Chapter 12

Finally the day of the ball arrived, and with it an atmosphere of mounting excitement. The weather, as Claudia had hoped, was clear and bright, and the gardens were looking their colourful best. No cloud appeared on the horizon to spoil the fresh beauty of the morning.

Claudia was expecting Stefano some time in the early afternoon. He would come by train as he thought it might not be advisable to drive back after a night of ‘revelry’, as he put it. He would take a taxi to St Hilda’s College.

Eagerly anticipating his arrival Claudia was ready in good time. She was not displeased with the reflection she saw in the mirror. Her hair which, most unusually, had benefited from a hairdresser’s skills, was pleasantly curled and shiny. The blue dress, on its hanger, awaiting the evening’s events, looked every bit as elegant as she had hoped. Her fellow students, unused to seeing Claudia at social events, were intrigued to see the man she had invited – especially when she volunteered that he was Italian and extremely handsome.

When he did arrive the sight of him took her breath away, and all she could think of was one of Maria’s favourite words – amazing. He looked like a film star, and he was carrying a beautiful bouquet of flowers.

‘Oh, Stefano! They’re lovely! Thank you very much.’

‘Not nearly as lovely as my partner! Claudia, I have never seen you look so beautiful. And I very much look forward to the ball.’

The evening, with all its promise of magic, was approaching, but first Claudia wanted to show her visitor a little of the glories Oxford had to offer.

‘Are you tired after your journey?’ she asked. ‘Could we go for a walk so that I can show you some of the local sights?’

‘That would be very good,’ he replied. ‘That I will like, and I will remember all that I see today.’

They set off from St Hilda’s, and walked over Magdalen Bridge, pausing to look down on the river below where punts lazily made their slow progress through the water.

‘Look! Look!’ cried Stefano. ‘Are they not like the gondolas in Venice? Already I feel at home!’

Continuing along the High Street they passed the glorious tower of Magdalen College and then turned right into Catte Street and Radcliffe Square, where Stefano gazed in awe at the circular, domed building known as the Radcliffe Camera. Claudia showed him the Bodleian Library on the far side of the square. Then she pointed out the University Church of St Mary the Virgin, Brasenose College and All Souls College. Stefano was clearly fascinated by it all. Using her Reader’s Card, she was able to take him up to the Upper Reading Room of the Radcliffe Camera and show him views of Central Oxford.

‘There’s one more place I would like to show you, before we go back, as I have a surprise lined up for you a little later this afternoon and we mustn’t be late.’ She took him further down Catte Street where they stood before the two halves of Hertford College and the ornate aerial corridor linking them.

‘There you are,’ she said. ‘That should make you feel even more at home. This is known as the Bridge of Sighs! Isn’t it a beautiful piece of architecture?’

‘It is lovely, but I think perhaps it resembles not so much the Bridge of Sighs in Venice but more the Rialto Bridge. We have a legend about our Bridge of Sighs, which I will tell you. It is said that lovers will be granted everlasting love and bliss if they kiss on a gondola at sunset under the bridge! But I do not think you could do that here, because there is no water!’

Laughing, they started to walk back to the college, where Claudia fetched a basket from her room. Then they set off again.

‘Let me carry that for you. Oh, it is quite heavy! What is in this mysterious basket?’

‘Be patient. You will find out very soon.’

‘Where are we going?’ he asked. ‘You will tire me out before the ball starts!’

‘I don’t think so. I am going to give you a true Oxford experience.’

She led him in the direction of the river, and towards the boathouse. He looked at the boats, and saw other students propelling them along in the water with the traditional long pole.

‘Is this what we are going to do?’

‘Yes. Do you think you can manage?’

‘It looks like a gondola, except there is no oar – only that funny long stick. Of course I can do it.’

The man in charge of the boathouse gave him a quick lesson. He showed him how to hold the pole, and feed it through his hands.

‘Don’t forget to pull it out of the water before your hands reach the end or you’ll be in trouble. If you can’t get it out in time, let go, or you’ll end up in the drink as well! There’s a paddle in the punt for emergencies so you can always go back for it, if you do lose it.’

In no time at all Stefano had mastered the technique and they set off, slowly winding their way along the river. They passed other punts, and Claudia, lying back in her seat, with plenty of time to appraise those in the passing craft, was in no doubt that she was being propelled along by the most handsome man on the river. She felt like a princess.

Once they had reached a quiet section, she suggested that he stop, and opening her basket, she produced two glasses, champagne and strawberries.

‘I like your Oxford traditions,’ observed Stefano.

They sat in the punt, the water gently lapping up against the boat, and ate and drank until the contents of the basket were gone.

‘Hm,’ murmured Stefano. ‘I feel so happy and the evening has not started yet. Will there be more champagne?’

‘Yes, and lots of other things. There will be dancing, of course, and an excellent supper. It’s going to be wonderful. Thank you very much for coming, Stefano. You have made an unforgettable ending to my time at Oxford. I shall always remember today.’

‘I also, I remember too. I am grateful that you ask me.’

Today was not the day for correcting errors. She was not in the mood. They returned to the college and she showed him where he could change. At long last she was ready, and as she descended the staircase she saw him waiting for her in the hall below. Again a thrill of pride shot through her – in his evening dress he looked unbelievably handsome. What had she done to deserve an evening of such heady delight? He received her with Italian gallantry, bowing and kissing her hand.

They passed through the hall to the spot where the college principal stood waiting to receive guests. Claudia presented Stefano and the principal held out her hand stiffly. On hearing the name of Claudia’s guest she asked politely, ‘Will you be in this country long, Mr Volpe?’

Stefano did not release her hand. Bowing slightly, he looked her straight in the eyes, his face lit up by his irresistible smile. ‘I am here for two months only, thank you. And in this time Claudia has been so kind as to give me English lessons. But soon I come back to live in your lovely country.’

Finally he released the hand, and the principal, a woman of renowned scholarly attributes and usually impervious to masculine charm, was actually blushing slightly, a warm glow diffusing her cheeks.

Claudia and Stefano danced, they talked, they frequently sipped their drinks, and they danced again. The music became slower and dreamier. In the small hours of the morning they walked arm-in-arm round the garden.

‘Are you tired now?’ he asked.

‘Oh no, I could go on for hours and hours. I don’t want it ever to stop.’ She smiled up at him, her eyes shining.

‘Let’s go for a walk,’ he said and there was a note of urgency in his voice. ‘I wish to walk beside that river.’

Claudia would have done anything he suggested. They set off, leaving behind the lively sounds of music and laughter, into the sharply contrasting quiet of the Cherwell river bank. The only sounds were the soft rustling of leaves and grass, disturbed by a light breeze. The trees swayed gently against a background of silvery light, as if they too had drunk of the evening’s champagne. The two young people strolled in the moonlight along the river path, arms round each other’s waists. Under a dark, overhanging tree he drew her close, and kissed her.

‘Maybe we are not under that bridge, but tonight, bella Claudia, you are very, very beautiful, and I must kiss you,’ he whispered.

‘Oh, Stefano.’ There could be no mistaking his meaning. Racing emotions overwhelmed her, as they slid down to the grassy ground, where she gave herself up to an unfamiliar world of sensations.

Afterwards he held her tight, kissing her hair, and murmuring how lovely she was. Idly she wondered what had happened to her blue dress, and the thought that this was how the original damage had occurred made her giggle. She was intoxicated, partly with wine, but mostly with love.

Stefano was still speaking. ‘You will make very marvellous wife,’ he said. ‘Would you like to marry?’

Sleepily she responded, ‘Yes please, darling, darling Stefano. Oh, yes, please.’

‘And then you make babies, doublequick, one, two, three, four – maybe five!’

Claudia was just awake enough to object to this. ‘Not yet, my dearest, not yet. I have worked so hard, I must establish my teaching career first. Plenty of time for babies later.’

Her head was resting against his shoulder, and sleep was overtaking her. She did not see his expression change.

‘I think, one day, you will make very lovely wife,’ he said, ‘for some lucky man.’

But Claudia was asleep.