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THE NEXT DAY BROKE, as all the others had, with the gentle whispers of the bay, the birds adding their accents, and the sun doing what it always did best in southern Italy, and that is, shining in a gloriously blue sky.
“So, Mr Moncrieff, I have you committed to shopping today ... yes?”
Hazel was out on the terrace, pouring from the carafe of richly aromatic orange juice.
The pretty tablecloth on their breakfast table flapped in the breeze, and Jeffrey drank in the figure before him and those long, tanned legs.
“I guess I am captive to your commands today, madam, and so shopping I will go, but do be kind and bear in mind my sensitive disposition.”
Jeffrey adopted a concerned countenance as if pondering the taxing ordeal before him.
Hazel sat down opposite him and prepared to indulge in this new breakfast ritual of seasonal fruit: melon slices wrapped in prosciutto, ripe peaches, and a small bowl of wild strawberries with a little yogurt spooned on top. Delicious!
“Oh I will, don’t worry. Anyway, I hate going shopping for clothes. I’m only doing it because you insisted.”
She smiled at him in their game playing and gazed with growing familiarity at her bay.
After breakfast, they prepared for their outing and the toll that the dramatically inclined village streets would take on their legs.
Positano is famously built on a hillside and, in this case, hillside means that going anywhere there requires a definite amount of climbing stairs and steep slopes. But the arrival at one’s destination is always worth the effort especially when, after having demanded so much of one’s leg muscles, one can stop and rest, and turn to look out from that elevated vantage point onto the blissfully blue Tyrrhenian Sea.
“God, that was some climb!”
Jeffrey was catching his breath and wondering why on earth he had ever mentioned the idea of going shopping in this steeply pitched, narrow-laned, temptation-filled craziness of a town.
But he already knew the answer. Visiting the shops in Positano was inevitable, and missing out on the experience unthinkable when a lady was involved. On the plus side, the boutiques were very colourful and uplifting to the spirit, and the length of many of the dresses on display was some small compensation for the weary companion or lover indulging his main interest in her quest for the quintessential Amalfi Coast alla moda couture.
Despite her stated aversion to going shopping, Hazel’s eyes were flitting from rack to rack as she happily scanned the cascading rows of garments strung out onto the pavements in a riotous display of the joy of the season.
“How about this one?” Jeffrey was making a gallant attempt at being involved in the mayhem, and Hazel looked briefly towards him ready to send polite appreciation his way and assure him that the only involvement required of him was that of mere spectator. After all, this was a dress shop – although there were also hats and scarves and belts and shoes – but this was definitely a shop for ladies, and she didn’t believe Jeffrey was adequately equipped for such voracious blood sports.
However, the dress he held out tentatively for consideration was in fact very, very fetching. The fabric of the skirt was flimsy with cascades of sheer, lightweight summer nothings flouncing towards a deep blue hem. A fairly high belt with a beautifully worked metal buckle, itself a piece of art, shaped the narrow waist of the closely fitted bodice.
The fabric colours were like an echo of that beautiful bay she would observe each morning from their terrace, and the play of the light azure and bright turquoise against the underlying deeper blue shades made the dress flow and move like the ocean waves rolling in under that eternal sunshine.
“Oh, Jeffrey, that looks gorgeous ... let me go try it on.”
Hazel looked around and found the attentive, smiling eyes of one of the staff who ushered her towards a changing room at the back, having observed the enthusiasm in the looks exchanged between them.
Hazel slipped into the unique creation, and against her now deeper tan, the dress looked terrific. It was short, not exactly a mini but not far from it, and it displayed her slender figure and long legs to full advantage.
She pulled the curtain along the changing room rail and stepped out confidently, presenting the outfit for his appraisal, and Jeffrey felt his eyes might embarrass him if anyone was watching. He was taken with the dress and even more taken with Hazel.
She looked just short of incendiary, and he noticed a couple of local young men, waiting for their girlfriends to exit the changing rooms, nudge each other and make what he fully understood to be fantasized gestures of interest in Hazel and her figure.
She walked towards him and twirled and, out of the corner of his eye, Jeffrey checked the observations from Hazel’s admirers.
Their interest was now beyond complimentary, it was somewhat explicit, and he felt a slight challenge, but reasoned that this was Italy, and Italian men were very direct in expressing their appreciation of female beauty.
What d’you think?” she asked, oblivious to the eyes following those hips and those legs.
“It’s beautiful, and you are beautiful in it. Buy it! If you don’t, I will ... Wait, what am I saying? Of course I will. It’s simply stellar, Hazel.”
He leaned in close to her cheek to confide the effect she was having on him. “You’re making me hot!” he breathed in her ear.
Hazel smiled happily. “Okay, I’ll take it.”
As she turned, she caught the appreciative and assessing glances of the two young men, just in time to see one of them receive a rather subduing look from his just-returned girlfriend.
Hazel smiled a little acknowledgement to herself as she watched the man’s face drop into an admonished ‘caught out’ expression, whilst his friend made a brave attempt at indifference and ignorance of all proceedings.
“Now what about we find something you can wear in the evenings in London.”
Jeffrey was thinking about their life when they got back and envisaging with some pleasure Hazel gliding in and out of restaurants and theatres on his arm.
“Something long and elegant but very, very alla moda ... but not something that’s going to garner the same sort of attention as that bombshell one you just bought. I don’t want you leaning out of our front door to get the newspaper in that sort of thing ... would give the paperboy a heart attack.”
Hazel was enjoying herself immensely and basking in all the complimentary glances.
Jeffrey pointed to a rack of floor-length gowns, and she started sorting through some glamorous evening creations.
“How about this?”
She draped the dress experimentally against her body, and he nodded his approval. Everything, it seemed, looked good on her now, with the sun using the trees lining the charmingly narrow lane to cast atmospheric shadows and making the scene of street shopping suitably continental and festive.
“Looks great, Hazel. Buy it.”
“You say that about everything, Jeffrey.”
“Yes, I know.”
“Why?”
“Because, my dear Hazel, you look great in all of them, and I’m a sucker for beauty, and in these you look sensational. But I’ll tell you all about it when we’re more private.”
He smiled a promise for the evening which Hazel could easily guess.
* * * * *
THAT NIGHT THEY DINED on their terrazza again and felt very elegant as they talked and joked and built more blocks of knowledge about each other, all the while both being fully aware that they were descending into a much greater closeness and a deeper connection.
They had now somehow become “we” in their minds. It was a subtle change, but unstoppable in its inevitability. They were now, to all intents and purposes, a unit, a couple.
The moonlit bay worked its magic, as it had the night before, and somehow even the moon now gave off a certain amount of heat as they watched those irrepressible, soft waves tumble and curl, before finally succumbing to the embrace of the shore.
As they ended their evening stepping back into the plush living room area of their villa, there was a moment of hesitation and anticipation as they both felt the tender sensitivity of that moment but also recognized and accepted the progress they had made in their relationship.
Acutely aware of what was crossing Jeffrey’s mind, Hazel breathed a soft tenderness close to his ear as she stepped into his goodnight embrace, just outside the door to his bedroom.
“Shall I stay tonight?” She could see deep into his eyes, and she already knew what his answer would be, but just to be sure she added, “Shall I sleep here, with you?”
Jeffrey thought how this was going to be just the beginning of so much more and, squeezing her to him to emphasize his commitment and emotion, he huskily confirmed, “Yes ... please. And not just tonight.”
The End
