AVA CHECKED HER reflection in the pretty full-length mirror in her bedroom and gave a satisfied nod. The white dress with the poppy-red pattern was perfect: swirly, flirty, fun and it made her look good without being overtly revealing or too noticeable. Topping it with a fleece-lined denim jacket for warmth, she would blend into the tourist crowd. She tugged her trademark blonde hair into a ponytail. One last swipe of lip gloss, a press of her lips, and she exited the room and headed downstairs. Twenty minutes later they were on the cobbled streets of the town and Ava gasped as she took in the architecture of the buildings.
‘I had read about the trulli but the pictures don’t do them justice.’ She halted to appreciate the sheer unique quality of the small stone whitewashed buildings topped with conical roofs. ‘They are straight out of a fairy tale.’
‘Maybe they are—they were built centuries ago, just in this part of the world as far as I know. Some people believe they were built in order to avoid tax.’
Ava turned to him in question. ‘I assumed they were houses or storage units.’
‘The story goes that the King charged the local lord a dwelling tax. So they figured out a way of building dwellings that could be dismantled whenever the tax inspector paid a visit and put back up when he left.’
‘Ingenious.’ She gazed at the cluster of buildings. ‘I can’t believe they are still standing.’
‘Yup. It does show that, for all the gains we have made with technology, there are still plenty of structural wonders that come from our history. And these definitely count.’
‘Do people still live in them?’
‘In some of them, but they are mostly used for commercial purposes—shops, restaurants or holiday lets.’
‘Could we go to the shops? I’d like to pick up some gifts before we meet your family tomorrow.’ The idea rippled nerves through her and she reminded herself that it was essential to do a ‘meet the family’ with Bea before their relationship became properly public.
As they made their way along the sun-drenched streets she sensed his glance and turned to look at him. He nodded towards a couple walking ahead of them, arms draped around each other’s waists. ‘In case we are spotted, and also as a kind of practice, do you think we should...hold hands?’
Ava bit her lip. ‘Yes. You’re right. We should.’
‘Yet you didn’t suggest it. And you’re the detail guy.’ His cobalt gaze held a perception that was becoming all too familiar. ‘So I’m guessing the idea doesn’t appeal, which is fine by me.’
Ava hauled in breath. ‘No. You’re right. It’s a good idea. It shows affection and proves we are close. I’m just a bit funny about it. I remember being asked to hold hands for a modelling shoot—the idea was to show a married couple’s intimacy and it made me realise there is something really intimate about it.’ It had also made her question her own capacity to be intimate. Because after that shoot she had realised that she and Nick never held hands. Because it hadn’t ever felt natural. ‘I guess there’s also a bit of worry. I mean, what if your hand is sweaty, or uncomfortable to hold or...?’ She held her hand out and surveyed it. ‘And now I’ve managed to make something insignificant into something huge.’
‘Nope. I think you’re right.’ He frowned and she sensed a sudden pain in his voice, wondered if he was remembering walking hand in hand with Jess. ‘Holding hands is intimate. It links you, creates a connection, an implication of a bond, a desire to be close. It’s also a way of communicating—you can squeeze someone’s hand to show support or commiseration or in warning. So yes, it is a big thing and maybe that’s why some people don’t feel comfortable with it. If we were really a couple I guess we’d both have taken a while before we felt ready to hold hands.’
‘But we have now supposedly been together for three months and it would be a bit strange if we didn’t hold hands.’ Yet she’d been with Nick for eighteen months and hadn’t held hands even once. ‘So we’re going to have to do it.’
‘Maybe, but not now.’ Liam indicated ahead of them. ‘This shop looks like what you’re looking for.’
It did indeed. The whitewashed trullo was bedecked with vivid hand-painted signs and wooden shelves stacked with intriguing pottery that tempted the eye. They entered the shop and Ava gave a small cry of delight. The shop was filled with local items, textiles of every hue, ceramics painted with vivid imagery, miniature trulli completed in exquisite detail, alongside black and white photographs of the village in times gone by. ‘It’s like a treasure trove.’
The proprietor stepped forward. ‘Many of the items have been made by local artisans. The linens have been hand-woven and there are also some beautiful examples of filet lace.’
‘They are all beautiful.’ She turned to Liam. ‘Let’s start with your mum.’
‘Um...’ He glanced round, a slightly helpless look on his face. ‘We don’t usually do holiday gifts.’
‘Yes, well. This is different. You’re bringing a girlfriend home. And not any old girlfriend. A Casseveti. Your mum will hardly be thrilled to see me—the least we can do is take her and the rest of the family gifts.’ She picked up a jug, beautifully hand crafted with a picture of a rooster and a flower on the side.
‘Maybe not that. The symbols represent fertility.’
Ava placed it down hurriedly. ‘OK. But there is plenty to choose from. What did you get her for Christmas?’
‘Mum sorts out the gifts for me—she tells me what everyone would like and I give her the money.’ He shifted from foot to foot. ‘That way everyone gets what they want. Seems easier.’
‘OK. But you must have some idea. What does she like? What makes her smile? What’s her favourite colour? Does she have any hobbies? Does she like clothes?’ Ava walked over to a selection of beautiful patterned scarves. ‘Perhaps a scarf?’
Now finally she saw Liam engage as he studied the scarves. ‘She is very elegant,’ he said finally. ‘She always made a point of looking good. She’d go out and scour the charity shops and find amazing things. She even taught herself how to make her own clothes.’
He tugged his phone out of his pocket and Ava looked at the photograph. Liam’s mum was pretty, her copper hair faded with age, but her grey eyes were still bright. Her smile was slightly wary, but there was a serenity about her that Ava liked. She studied her clothes. Elegant grey skirt with a white blouse. Nice and simple, but livened up by a bright red cardigan.
‘I think she’d definitely like a scarf or some jewellery. You pick.’
Liam studied the items on display, picked a couple of scarves up and held them to the light, chose a dark red patterned one. ‘I think she’d like this.’
‘Perfect. Now for my mum.’ Ava sighed. ‘I wish I could get her a magic wand that would make her feel better. Less miserable.’ Less vindictive, less angry... Perhaps she could cast a spell that would somehow make her mother forgive Ava for refusing to try to overturn the will.
Liam pointed at a display of crystals. ‘Maybe a crystal—some people believe that crystals have healing properties or can help in times of grief.’
‘Do you believe that?’ The man really was a whole heap of surprises.
‘I don’t know. I do think that it is possible.’
‘I think that’s a brilliant gift.’ Ava looked at the crystals and then back at him. ‘I don’t think Mum is a believer but I think I’ll get one anyway. Maybe they work even without belief.’ She tried to keep sadness from her voice, knew she’d failed when he looked more closely at her.
‘I assume she has taken it hard. Every article I ever read showed how close your parents were.’
‘Yes.’ No way would she expose the illusion her mum had so painstakingly set up, tell Liam that her father had still loved his first wife, just not enough to stay with her. Had loved Karen’s money and connections more, but hadn’t loved Karen herself. Sometimes Ava wondered if it had been worth it—he had sacrificed love to live a life cushioned by money, but also trapped by it. The fate of Dolci caught up in his marriage, in the Casseveti brand. And so he’d been a prisoner of his own ambitions. Had he ever just wanted to break free, abandon his second family and return to his first?
‘I’ll get Mum this as well.’ She picked up a simple terracotta jug. ‘I think we should get something for your stepdad and brother as well.’
‘I really wouldn’t have a clue what to get John or Max. I never lived with them and there is no blood tie so we aren’t close.’ There was an emptiness to his tone, a careful flatness, and his eyes held trouble in their depths.
‘I know you didn’t choose their gifts but you must have watched them open them.’ His expression was one of reluctance and a sudden suspicion touched her. ‘I mean, you did spend Christmas there, didn’t you?’
‘I popped in a few days after.’ He rubbed the back of his neck. ‘I was away over Christmas.’
‘Where did you go?’
‘Business trip.’
‘On Christmas Day?’
‘Yes. I was in a five-star hotel in India and that was fine.’ His stance suggested the subject was closed. ‘But looking back, I do remember that Max thanked me for my gift. I got him a pair of Rollerblades. He is roller skating mad. He plays roller hockey and does speed skating. Works as a skate guard at a local rink.’
Ava pointed at a small table with trays of beaded bracelets. ‘Look. They look cool and I bet he could wear that to rollerblade.’
They walked over to them and she watched as Liam went through the merchandise, a small frown of concentration on his face. ‘I’m pretty sure the Rollerblades were this colour, so this should work.’
‘What about John?’
‘I’ll buy him some Italian beer or some interesting food ingredients. He does a lot of their cooking.’
‘Good idea.’ It occurred to Ava that in actual fact Liam knew more about John and Max than he cared to admit, or perhaps even realised. She waited whilst Liam paid for his purchase.
‘Where would you like to go now?’ he asked.
‘I thought we should get some photos of us. We can post them on social media as evidence of our relationship. I think that’s the best way to let people know—a kind of subtle approach, rather than an official announcement.’
‘Makes sense.’
‘Where would be a good place for some photos? I was thinking somewhere romantic.’ A flush heated her cheekbones. ‘Just for the detail.’
‘How about a beach setting? There is a beach not too far from here though I’ve never been. It’s a nature preserve, so it’s fairly secluded.’
‘Sounds perfect.’
‘I’ll call Pierre to drop us off.’