‘Sì?’ she said from the inside, standing as tall and strong as her flagging spirits would allow.
‘Must we speak through the glass?’ he asked, his words muffled. ‘Lucia?’
Reluctantly Lucia opened the door, then leaned against the frame. ‘Scusami,’ she apologised.
His eyes assessed her for a moment, taking in the now staunch and stiff woman in front of him, so different from the broken, sad soul he had witnessed just hours before at thecimitero. ‘I don’t know what happened this morning. And you don’t need to tell me. But I heard your colleague’s screams and I am just checking to make sure you are ok. All of you.’ He smiled uncertainly. ‘Areyou ok?’
Lucia’s lagoon-green eyes traced his face, and all she could read there was genuine concern. It was so far from the sarcastic, taunting front of Vittorio Gatti. Something about Alex showing up for her like this brought her great relief. He was being kind, clearly keeping up his end of their agreement to move forward respectfully. She allowed some of her armour to fall metaphorically to her feet, and replied, ‘We are ok. We will be fine.’
He looked her up and down with his rich warm eyes before turning to leave, but caught himself after a few steps. He pivoted, and with Lucia still watching from the doorframe, he added, ‘I’m glad, Lucia. I’m just here, across . . . but you . . . you know that.’
Is he nervous? He suddenly can’t form a sentence to save himself.
‘If you ever need me . . .need help, I mean.’
She nodded. ‘Grazie.’
He held her gaze a few more beats, and Lucia felt something in her stomach flip. That deep, intoxicating gaze – it was delicious and unsettling at the same time.
Giving her a meek wave, he tucked his hands into his pockets and retreated.
Alessandro Scarpa . . . this new you is a very handsome change.
trentasei
As the lights dimmed and the curtain rose at the Il Camino theatre that Friday night, the audience fell silent.
Lucia watched from the wings stage right, where she had found a private nook behind the folded pleats of the heavy velour drapes. It was comforting, like an embrace with a life-long friend. And that scent of the old theatre permeated every stitch and fibre – Lucia was sure she would come away with the smell clinging to her clothes.
As the stage lights rose and the opening scene ofLa Locandierakicked off, she felt as if the worries of the week began to ebb from her and seep away through the painted black floorboards. With her students beside her, her sole focus for the evening was on supporting them.
Thanks to Olivia, Francesco was sitting in the front row and had an excellent vantage point from which to collect footage for theVenezia, Ovunque!project. Knowing this, Lucia smiled into the darkness, releasing her students one by one onto the stage with the arrival of the opening applause.
Even in the darkness of the wings, Alex knew that silhouette. The flick of the long sleek ponytail gathered over one shoulder, those slender legs leaning to the right, the nervous tapping of the left boot.
Alex felt a tingle spread from his wrists to the tips of his fingers. It brought with it a nervous fidgeting energy he couldn’t shake. But he had become used to this, as it was the reaction Lucia had begun to stir in him. Even at thecomune, and on that walk home, he had intuitively allowed his footsteps to find a natural rhythm with hers. It felt as if something inside him had tethered itself to Lucia. Like they were connected by some unifying thread known only by the universe.
All he knew for certain was that he wanted to talk to her. And despite the complete inappropriateness of the moment, he felt this was too good an opportunity to pass up on.
So, he approached.
Standing just inches behind Lucia, he could smell the familiar kick of her perfume: a heady mix of vanilla and amber. It was warm and inviting, and it brought with it the sensation of how her hands had clung to his forearms in the school’s lobby. His heart beat a little faster.
He leaned forward slightly and whispered, ‘Lucia . . .’ and she glanced at him. Even in the shadows of the stage wings, he could see her expression of surprise.
In a low voice she said, ‘Yes, Alex?’
‘Are you feeling ok after Monday’s ordeal?’
‘Less rattled. Yes.Grazie.’
‘I . . . uhm. I also wanted to apologise for the other evening. After thecomunemeeting.’
‘For what, exactly?’
‘For that moment at the door. Sorry. It was inappropriate.’
Clearly, her curiosity had been piqued, because she turned completely to face him. ‘What do you mean?’
