‘YOU ARE TENSE,’ Antonietta commented as she massaged Vincenzo’s shoulders.
As part of her training she was still practising on the staff, but they were actually asking for her now, and a couple of them had told her that they would be her clients if she ever set up on her own.
‘Isn’t everyone tense at Christmas?’ asked Vincenzo, who was lying face-down.
‘No!’ Antonietta smiled. ‘It’s supposed to be a happy time.’
‘Well, you should be happy!’ Vincenzo said. ‘It would seem you made the right choice!’
‘Sorry?’
‘With Sylvester. You know...because his wife left him?’
Her hands stilled on Vincenzo’s shoulders.
‘You haven’t heard?’
‘No,’ Antonietta said.
As Vincenzo spoke on she discovered that it had been a terrible break-up—and, no, it did not make her happy to hear it.
She poured more oil on her hands and got to work on Vincenzo’s knotted neck. Some clients preferred silence, which Antonietta was very good at, and usually Vincenzo was one of them, but today he seemed keen to talk.
‘I am so over Christmas, and it isn’t even here yet,’ Vincenzo said.
‘You’re off to Florence tonight?’ Antonietta checked.
‘Yes, but my family are driving me crazy.’ He sighed. ‘They expect me to come home, yet they don’t want me to bring a guest...’
Antonietta’s hands paused and, unseen by Vincenzo, she frowned, though she kept her voice light. ‘My family don’t want me home with or without a guest, so I win.’
He laughed and relaxed a little. ‘I don’t know how to keep everyone happy,’ he admitted.
‘I think it’s time to make your own traditions, Vincenzo. I know I’ve been relying on other people to make this Christmas a happy one.’
An idea was forming, though she did not share it with Vincenzo as he was now half asleep. But when he was done, and it was time for her break, Antonietta knocked on Francesca’s door.
‘Come in, Antonietta,’ Francesca said.
‘I lied to you.’
Antonietta saw Francesca’s curious frown as she took a seat in her office.
‘About what?’ Francesca asked. ‘Are you intending to open a bordello here?’
They shared a small smile before Antonietta answered. ‘Of course not. But I do want to take advantage of my friendship with Aurora and Nico. I wanted to speak with you about it beforehand. I don’t want to go over your head.’
‘I’m curious,’ Francesca admitted.
‘I came to Silibri hoping for a wonderful Christmas,’ Antonietta said, ‘and I’ve realised I have done little to bring it about.’
Francesca frowned.
‘I have left my fate in other people’s hands for too long,’ Antonietta said. ‘I have been waiting for my parents to decide how I spend my days, and what will make me happy, but no more.’
‘What do you have in mind?’
‘Cake,’ Antonietta said. ‘And lots of it. And decorations. And a feast shared with the people I care about and who care about me.’
‘Who?’ Francesca asked.
‘You!’ Antonietta smiled. ‘And anyone else who isn’t getting the Christmas they hoped for. Of course it would only take place after all the guests have been taken care of...’
‘I have loathed Christmas ever since my divorce,’ Francesca admitted—and then perked up. ‘We could use the grand dining room,’ Francesca said. ‘Tony would cook, I’m sure of it, and Pino...’ She gave a pained sigh. ‘I have been so worried about him spending Christmas alone.’
‘And me,’ Antonietta admitted.
‘I was going to invite him over for dinner,’ Francesca admitted, ‘but you know how the villagers talk...’
‘Believe me, I know,’ Antonietta said. ‘But of course you are just being...’ She was about to say that of course Francesca was just being friendly, but her voice trailed off as her manager went a little bit pink.
Francesca and Pino?
But Pino was grieving Rosa so deeply he would never look at Francesca in that way, Antonietta was sure.
Oh, love was so difficult and cruel—but, given that she couldn’t fix her own love-life, she certainly couldn’t help anyone else with theirs, so she got back to organising the party.
‘We would need Nico’s permission.’
‘He will never give it.’ Francesca shook her head. ‘He is like the Grinch. He didn’t even want a Christmas tree in the foyer.’
‘It’s his first Christmas with Aurora and his first as a father...’
‘Do you think Aurora could persuade him?’
‘Oh, yes.’ Antonietta smiled.
‘Then on this occasion,’ Francesca said, ‘I have no problem with you going over my head.’
Antonietta called Aurora. And since Aurora thought it a brilliant idea she said she would be delighted to ‘work on Nico’.
‘Ha-ha!’ Aurora added.
Antonietta would have frowned at that just a few short weeks ago. She had been utterly clueless back then.
‘Enjoy!’ Antonietta said instead, and then communicated her response back to Francesca.
‘We have the go-ahead? Nico approves?’ Francesca checked.
‘Aurora is working on him.’
‘Lucky Aurora!’
Soon they had gathered all the staff who would be working on Christmas Day.
‘Do we get paid for staying on?’ Chi-Chi asked.
‘It’s a party,’ Francesca said. ‘Of course not.’
‘Then you can count me out,’ Chi-Chi said, and left.
‘Well, I think it’s a great idea,’ Pino said. ‘I’ve been dreading Christmas. I know I said I didn’t mind that my daughter is with her husband’s family, but really...’
As it turned out, he wasn’t the only one who felt lonely at this time of year.
Vera, who worked in the laundry, and could have had the day off but had chosen to work, was another who admitted she struggled. ‘I can make a lasagne,’ she said.
‘No, I am making the lasagne,’ Tony insisted. ‘But, Vera, your cannelloni is the best I have ever tasted...’ His voice trailed off as Vincenzo came in.
‘What’s going on?’ Vincenzo asked.
‘We’re having a meal—a staff party for those who have to...’ Antonietta paused ‘...for those who have chosen to work on Christmas Day.’
‘Oh!’ Vincenzo just stood there.
‘Well, it doesn’t apply to you,’ Tony said rather spitefully. ‘You’re spending Christmas with family.’
* * *
Though it was not quite the perfect remedy for getting over a broken heart, it was fun to organise everything, and in her time off Antonietta baked.
And cried.
But mainly she baked.
Or mainly she cried.
But there was cake involved, which always helped.
What didn’t help was finding on Christmas Eve the coffee-flavoured Modica chocolate that she had bought for Rafe.
Well, not really. But she had certainly bought it with Rafe in mind, never knowing that that very night they would make love.
It had been so good.
At least it had been for her.
But then she reminded herself of his cruel departure, and those horrible harsh words, and told herself to get over him.
And she would.
Oh, she would...
But first she had to weep for him.
Yet she knew that once she’d started she wouldn’t be able to stop.
She would have to mourn him later, Antonietta decided. For now, the show must go on.
And so, dressing for the Christmas Eve bonfire that night, she put on the gorgeous dress, tights and boots he had bought her.
And though there was no sign of Rafe’s black helicopter, still a chariot awaited...
Well, the hotel put on a car to take the people who were working till late into the village for the last hour of the bonfire before everyone headed to church.
Poor Pino, Antonietta thought as she climbed in. He looked pensive as they drove up the winding hill.
But then he gave her a little pep talk. ‘If there are any problems tonight, just come and find me.’
‘I’ll be fine, Pino. My family might not be talking to me, but they’re not going to make a scene at the Christmas Eve bonfire.’
‘You probably haven’t heard the news,’ said Francesca.
‘I know about Sylvester,’ Antonietta said.
‘It’s nothing to do with you, of course,’ Francesca soothed, ‘but from what I’ve heard emotions are a little raw.’
‘Emotions are always a little raw with the Riccis.’ Antonietta shrugged. ‘You’re right—Sylvester and his marriage are nothing to do with me.’
She shut down the conversation—and not just because she refused to gossip. She shut down the conversation because it hurt. Though she had no feelings at all for Sylvester, another person’s misery still didn’t feel like a triumph. There was enough sadness in the world, and right now she was busy dealing with her own.
Antonietta was at the start of her life without Rafe. Oh, they had been together for only a short time, but it had been long enough for her heart to know it was love.
The bonfire would be a nice place to weep unnoticed.
It was huge. The children were all laughing and playing, and there were cheers and celebrations as the orange flames licked up towards the sky—she would blame the smoke for her watery eyes, should anyone see. But she refused to break down completely.
‘Antonietta...’
She turned at the sound of her name, and there stood her mamma.
‘Have you heard about Sylvester?’
‘What does that have to do with me?’
‘It would seem you were right to have doubts,’ her mother said. ‘Come to us tomorrow,’ she offered. ‘Have Christmas Day with your family.’
It was everything she had once wished for. Everything she had come to Silibri for.
And yet Rafe had been right when he’d asked her if she would ever be able to forgive her parents. It had seemed a ridiculous question at the time, but it made perfect sense now.
Antonietta looked at her mother, and though she could stand there now, vindicated and redeemed in her mother’s eyes, there was too much hurt.
‘I have plans for tomorrow,’ Antonietta said.
‘Antonietta, don’t do this. I have missed you so much...’
‘Then why didn’t you pick up the phone?’ Antonietta retorted, and walked off.
‘Hey,’ Pino said. ‘Is everything all right?’
‘I got what I wanted,’ Antonietta said. ‘Or what I thought I wanted. But it’s too little, too late.’
‘So carry on the fight, then,’ Pino said. ‘And we can all be miserable this Christmas.’
He made her smile.
‘I know that I don’t want to be miserable any longer,’ Pino said. ‘I was talking to Signor Dupont before he left. He told me to go and look at the ruins. Said that life can still be beautiful even without Rosa.’
‘He told you that?’ Antonietta said. It angered her rather than soothed her, for she loathed the thought of Rafe just going on with his beautiful life.
‘He did. And if he hadn’t been a guest—and a royal one at that—I might have hit him,’ Pino said.
‘But you didn’t?’
‘No, because I think he might be right. I want to make peace with the past, and I want to embrace the rest of my life. Call me old-fashioned, but I believe life is better with family.’
‘Even when they hurt you?’
‘Of course,’ Pino said. ‘Love isn’t always easy. My daughter has hurt me...’
‘Have you told her?’
‘No,’ Pino said. ‘For there might come a time when I hurt her too. I just have to hope she’ll be happy for me...’
Was he talking about Francesca? Antonietta pondered. Surely it was too soon? But then, who was she to judge?
She looked at Pino’s tired, kind face and gave him a little squeeze on the arm. ‘I’d be happy for you, Pino.’
He’d given her good advice. And so she walked over to her mother, who stood by the fire, when it would have been so much easier, even justified, to walk away.
‘I have plans tomorrow, Mamma, but I could come over in the evening, perhaps, for a drink.’
And biscotti and cake and pizzelles, no doubt. For there was no such thing as just a drink in Silibri.
It would be awkward, and difficult, but it would be a start—and, wrongly or rightly, she could not turn her back on her family.
‘I’d love that,’ said her mamma.
‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’
‘You’re not coming to church?’
‘No.’ Antonietta gave a wry smile. ‘That would be too many Riccis under the same roof for me.’
Her mamma actually smiled.
And Antonietta smiled too, until she got home. And then she gave in to tears and cried more than she ever had.
She was home.
All was sorted.
Except she had let her heart go to a playboy.
And she didn’t know how to even start to get it back.