‘Chi è?’ Marcella asked cautiously, as if reading Stella’s concerned expression.
‘Sono Sylvia!’ a sultry seductive female voice announced from the other side of the door.
Both exhaled their relief.
‘Sylvia . . .?’ Stella asked, checking through the peephole. ‘Ahhh!’ she squealed, throwing open the door.
There stood Carlotta, glamorous as always. With her long blonde hair set in a series of side waves, flowing over her right shoulder, she wore a bustier-style black floor length gown with high split in the front. Stella and Marcella were speechless.
‘Someone requested Iconic Roma,no? What do you think?’ She twirled dramatically.
‘You’re Sylvia fromLa Dolce Vita! Amazing!’ Stella inspected the gown closely. ‘Did you make this or buy it on eBay?’
‘Of course I made it. I don’t wear synthetic fibres.’ She stepped inside the apartment she used to share with the girls, dropping her overnight bag on the floor. ‘I just wore this on the H from Termini. I needvino. It needs to be red. And I need it now.’
The others started to arrive at seven o’clock, each making their own special entrance. Giulio and Elda decided on making sandwich board costumes depicting the Colosseum and Trevi Fountain. Giulio, dressed as the latter, was pleased to see that Carlotta had opted for Sylvia, and insisted on taking several awkward photos recreating the iconic scene where Anita Ekberg’s character dances in the waters of the famous fountain.
Giacomino looked the part as a gladiator. He braved the cold, barelegged and bare-chested, revealing a large temporary SPQR tattoo across his back. Giuseppe made the perfect Emperor Nero, complete with a long flowing toga and gold laurel wreath on his head.
Marco looked handsome as Gregory Peck’s character, Joe Bradley, the American reporter inRoman Holiday. He’d chosen a 1960s-style suit, with a newspaper tucked under his arm. He graciously posed with Stella on a chair, emulating the scene where both characters ride the Vespa through the streets of Rome. It all ended in a fit of laughter, with Marco finishing on the floor.
The last to arrive, half an hour later than expected, was Ignazio, dressed in full AS Roma kit, featuring Francesco Totti’s famous number 10. A different vibe,yes, but iconic Rome all the same. Stella noted how Ignazio was wearing the Roma scarf Stella had gifted Marco, and she beamed.
I’ll make Romanisti out of you yet!
As the girls were yet to meet Ignazio, even after all these months, his arrival was monumental. Marcella and Stella thanked him profusely for the beautiful cake he had made for the occasion, and Carlotta vowed she would devour the greatest portion herself.
It wasn’t until the three of them were alone in the kitchen that Carlotta whispered, ‘What do we know about Ignazio?’
‘He’s Marco’s cousin and he’s a pastry chef. Also from Messina. Really shy. Apparently a very sensitive soul. That’s all I know. That wasliterallythe first time I’ve met him,’ Stella replied.
‘He’s very handsome. I could definitely get used tosensitive.’ Carlotta chewed her bottom lip, peering around the kitchen corner. ‘He’s so much fairer than the other two.’
‘Yeah. Green eyes and that kind of sandy blonde hair. Wasn’t expecting him to look like that,’ Stella added.
Stella and Marcella shared a loaded look punctuated by raised hopeful eyebrows as Carlotta made her way over to talk with Ignazio.
‘Sheis next on my list,’ Marcella muttered under her breath to Stella, and the two shared a private giggle. ‘Ok!’ Marcella eventually bellowed, banging the bottom of a saucepan with a wooden spoon. ‘Tutti a tavola!Si mangia!’
Tapping a fork against the side of her wine glass, Stella grabbed the attention of her guests. Standing, she smiled at the calibre of the company.
‘Speech!’ demanded Giacomino.
‘That’s what I was going for,’ she laughed. ‘I just wanted to thank you all for coming along tonight. I know it’s just a few days before Christmas and you probably have better things to be doing, but it means a lot that you’re all here.’ She took a sip of wine for strength. ‘My life was thrown into complete chaos a year ago. I had already lost my partner, then I lost my job, so I came here for a change of scenery. I found Giulio and Elda,’ she smiled at them both lovingly, ‘in the Campo de’ Fiori one day. Giulio, I’ll never forget what you said to me . . .’
‘I said, “You need Roma”,’ he called.
‘Yes, and you were right. I never intended to stay as long as I have. If you’d have told me then that I would still be here, a year on, I would have laughed in your face. But, here I am. I would like to thank Marcella and Carlotta for always looking out for me. You are like sisters to me and I love you both very much. You mean the world to me.’
‘We love you too, Stellina!’ Marcella cried, fuelled only slightly by red wine.
‘Marco, thank you for being such an amazing support; for believing in me, my talent, and for giving me the opportunity to explore a new style of painting I would never have had the courage to try otherwise. You are so patient and kind, and I cherish our friendship.’ She blew him a kiss across the table and he feigned catching it, raising his glass in her honour.
‘And Giuseppe and Ignazio. Thanks for all the yummy food and coffee at Bar Luna e Lupa, and for your generosity today. You are quickly becoming family, and I can’t wait to get to know you both better over the time to come.
‘And Giacomino, thanks for helping Marcella and Carlotta with their plan. You know what that means.’ She blushed slightly, taking another sip. ‘And, thanks for making Marcella so happy. She deserves it.’
Wrapping his left arm around Marcella’s shoulders, he smiled. ‘Prego.’
