Sarah passed her phone across to Matthew and he re-read the message a number of times to himself. ‘This message says a lot without saying much at all.’
Sarah’s chest rose significantly on her next inhale. ‘Her “see and be seen” comment has me wondering.’
‘More than that, who’s the us she’s referring to?’ Matthew added. ‘We should go.’
‘Yep. I agree.’ Sarah paused momentarily, then typed:Sounds great. When and where shall we meet you? Who will be there?
Margherita:8.30 in the piazza. Dress nice. All of Fiorellino.More kisses.
Matthew shook his head. ‘In keeping withlocal jurisdiction, I’m sure. I think this is going to be very informative.’
With a roll of her eyes, Sarah sighed. ‘Two coffees by eight-thirty. My poor tummy.’
Taking her by the hand and collecting their plates with other, he said, ‘You’re going to need the buzz, Ms Bumblebee. It’s time to play the game.’
Their first time in Fiorellino since the initial afternoon gathering supplies, both Sarah and Matthew knew that the impression of a loving, community-oriented couple was what this town expected. So they were sure to give it.
Wearing their Sunday best – or asbestas their modestly packed suitcases would allow – they looked the epitome of a newly married couple. Matthew had opted for his fail-proof navy chinos and white shirt combo, whereas Sarah had chosen her black jeans and a tucked-in baby blue linen shirt, unbuttoned just enough to show the lacy neckline of her white camisole.
Hands interlaced, walking tightly side-by-side, they radiated a bond which was hard to fault, even by the most discerning eye.
There were a few people milling about in the piazza, but no familiar faces and certainly no Margherita to be seen. But there were plenty of curious staring eyes.
Sarah and Matthew stood there, enjoying the warmth from the pocket of sunshine bursting through the shadows of overhanging buildings. Gently resting her head against Matthew’s right shoulder, Sarah inhaled deeply to settle her nerves. His cologne had begun to grow familiar to her, and its spicy citrus notes soothed the adrenaline she could feel trickling through her legs.
Matthew caught her chin with his hand and whispered, ‘You ok? I can feel you’re uneasy.’
She smiled, her bright brown eyes beaming back. ‘Just feeling it a little.’ He shifted to wrap his arm around her, and the two were locked together. Holding her a little tighter, he dropped a kiss into her hair. The feeling of his secure embrace helped tame the nervous vibrations which flickered through her. ‘Thank you,’ she said, snuggling deeper into his hold.
‘It will all be ok. I promise.’
Over the top of Matthew’s shoulder, Sarah suddenly locked eyes with a familiar face. ‘Marghe!’ Sarah called, pulling away from Matthew’s strong arms.
‘Buongiorno e buona domenica!’ Margherita said on her approach. ‘I’m so glad you could come.’ She offered both enthusiastic cheek kisses. ‘Are you ready to meet everyone?’
Lowering her voice, Sarah said, ‘I feel like we’re about to go on a massive blind date.’
‘Fiorellino is one big dysfunctional family. And every Sunday, most of the town gathers for coffee and apasseggiata.’
Sarah tried her best to repeat the word, but with minimal success. ‘Pass.Egg. . .’
‘Do you have your notepad?’ Margherita asked, motioning with her hand that she could write it down.
‘I do!’ Sarah rummaged through her bag and withdrew the small pad and pen Margherita had gifted her.
‘Ecco,’ she began. ‘Fare la passeggiata.’ She stressed each syllabic beat.
‘To take a stroll,’ Matthew piped up.
‘But so much more.’ Margherita’s eyes were wide. ‘Right now, when youdothepasseggiata, you’re on display.’
Sarah swallowed. ‘Display?’
‘Look around.’
Sure enough, the piazza, which had now filled a little more, featured a collection of groups and some lone individuals, each politely greeting and chatting, all the while casting meaningful glances and scrutinising each other as inconspicuously as possible. ‘La passeggiata, according to Fiorellino.’
Sarah lowered her voice. ‘But no one is strolling.’
