‘No. Should I?’
Satisfied by the vacant, puzzled expression which had filled his face, she said, ‘It’s refreshing that you don’t.’
‘I don’t engage with social media or the papers. If those are somehow connected.’
She cocked her head to the side. ‘Why is that?’
‘I have my reasons. But mostly, I think they’re dangerous.’
She exhaled a short breath as she nodded in agreement. ‘You’ve got that right.’ Lucia emptied the last of the moka into her cup, then rose to her feet. ‘I’ll just get some water.’ Without thinking she grabbed his upper arm as she walked past and gave it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. It felt lovely and natural, and represented the peace offering she had laid on the table.
What Lucia didn’t see, however, was how Alex’s head hung low behind her turned back, or the way he frowned disapprovingly at himself.
No. Should I?
Those lie-soaked words taunted him, seeming to bundle up at the back of his throat before dropping heavily to his lungs. He felt he might drown under the weight of his deception.
But then, it wasn’t just Lucia he was deceiving.
Francesco suddenly appeared on the other side of the glass pane of La Scuola Rosa’s door on Monday morning.
Lucia, who was setting places with diagnostic tests for the incoming students, stopped and took stock of him. He grinned, zeroed in on the glass, then exhaled his warm breath onto the pane. With a finger he drew the outline of a heart in the condensation, complete with L.T. and A. S. in the middle.
Lucia scowled. ‘Basta!’
Delighted with himself, Francesco pointed over his shoulder to La Commedia, then turned so that his back was facing Lucia. He wrapped his hands around his own torso and caressed himself, so that from Lucia’s angle it looked as if he were passionately kissing someone.
‘Checco!’ she warned, but it was too late. He already had an audience of a few students who had gathered in thecalle.
Lucia’s expression dropped into a sarcastic ‘told you so’ pout, but Francesco only laughed. He sauntered in, setting his lesson notes down on the welcome desk with a dramatic flourish.
‘So . . .’ he started smoothly. ‘Was there kissing? And do you need lip balm?’ He proffered her a stick, which she promptly waved away.
She grunted. ‘No. And you couldn’t be farther from the truth.’
‘Oh. Really?’ He raised an eyebrow.
‘Sì. We just talked. He was lovely but still . . . he felt distant. Or, like he was holding me at arm’s-length. Something has changed.’
Francesco’s face drained of all its previous joy and playfulness. ‘Didyoufeel anything towardshim?’
‘Romantically?’
‘Sì.’
Lucia tried to busy herself with the papers once more. ‘I . . . I don’t know. He’s very—’
‘Good-looking. Yes, we established that a while ago. I mean, feelings-wise?’
‘I’m not sure. I don’t think so.’
‘Something is holdingyouback, Lucia.’ He stepped forward to assess her a little more closely. ‘I can see it in your eyes.’
‘Something in me wants closure. That’s all.’
‘Closure for what?’
‘The masked kisser. I know it makesnosense to dive back into that swamp of trouble. But, I guess I wish I knew who . . . There are so many loose ends in my life at the moment. It would be nice to tie this one off.’
