Chapter Fourteen

‘What’s to do? Shall we go see the relics of this town?’

(Twelfth Night)

After visiting Shakespeare’s grave again, the group wound their way down to the shaded riverside where Will expertly recited the same sonnet as yesterday, this time, of course, in luscious Italian. Kelsey had to look away to stop her mouth falling open. Who knew it was possible to make Shakespeare sound even more romantic? Kelsey looked at the notebook open on her lap; today’s page was blank. Excluded by the language barrier, she certainly wasn’t learning anything new, other than how flirtatious Will could be.

It wasn’t easy catching his attention as he stood in the middle of a circle of unbelievably glamorous women of all ages who crowded around him on the steps of the main theatre, but by eleven she’d had enough.

‘Will? Excuse me, Will.’

His momentary look of confusion told Kelsey he had completely forgotten she was tagging along, and that smarted a bit, though she wasn’t entirely sure why her pride would be stung. Will was just doing his job.

‘I haven’t a clue what you’re all saying. Do you mind if I sneak off the tour? I think I’d get more out of today if I just found a quiet spot and read through Norma’s information booklets again.’

‘Yeah, sure, no worries. Just meet us at the pub later. You know, for the Bard Crawl? We’ve got a few Yanks, and some Brits booked in. Five o’clock? Do you know where the starting point is?’

Shaking her head, she shrugged. ‘It’s a pub called the Yorick, isn’t it? But I’ve no idea where it is, Will.’

He made his way over to her, leaving the women to cluck crossly at his sudden neglect. Seeing the scowls, Kelsey felt inwardly rewarded. He smiled as he held her firmly by the arms and spun her round, pointing to the lovely old cottage pub she’d been standing in front of all along.

‘Seriously, look at your map, woman. It’s right there.’

Spinning her around again, he leaned in and kissed her on both cheeks as casually as though he’d known her all her life. Kelsey stood frozen to the spot, dazed and aware that she was grinning stupidly, wishing he wasn’t walking away from her. She watched as he disappeared, devoured by the ring of women already bombarding him with questions, each one jostling for his attention.

‘See you later,’ she offered, in a higher pitched voice than she expected, but Will was oblivious.

Turning with a deep breath to face the crowded riverside she was struck by a sudden giddy sense of freedom. The summer was in full swing, the sun was blazing down and she had the rest of the day to explore her new town. She knew exactly what she wanted to do.

With her camera cradled in her hands, she passed the theatres, heading down into the theatre gardens – a broad expanse of closely cropped grass criss-crossed with wide canals and bridges.

There in the canal basin, which had the air of a smart little marina, were narrow boats painted in every colour and moored in rows, some with little walkways jutting out into the water alongside them. A few boats had signs by them inviting visitors in. They were shops. Kelsey peeped inside the first one she came to, the brightest of them all. Its rooftop sign read ‘Roses and Castles.’

Inside Kelsey discovered a little gallery selling miniature paintings on tiny wood-framed easels, and red flowerpots, yellow milk urns and black metal jugs all boldly painted with flowers in green, white, and gold. Spotting a painted heart hanging on a ribbon she immediately thought of her mum at home and reached for her purse.

‘The colours are so vivid. Is it OK if I take some photographs in here?’ Kelsey asked, as the smiling lady behind the counter in the stern busily wrapped the gift in tissue paper. She didn’t mind one bit, even offering to pose for a shot in front of her workbench where she was painting a large box with a sloping lid that lifted up on hinges.

‘It’s a writing desk,’ she let Kelsey know, pointing out the sunken glass pot for the ink.

After taking a few carefully lit shots using her flash to warm up the boat’s dark interior, Kelsey thanked her before climbing out onto the gangplank that led back to the path. The next boat was even more tempting. It was an ice-cream barge.

Soon, Kelsey was sitting on the grass enjoying her mint choc-chip and watching the tourists bustling around the canal basin, feeling only a little guilty she wasn’t yet brushing up on Norma’s information booklets. She’d settle down to work soon. At times like this, only a selfie on a camera phone will do, so she did something she rarely attempted. Holding her phone up high, licking the melting ice cream and winking cheekily at herself on the screen, she tried to capture her best angle.

Eat your heart out Mirr! 32 degrees here and I found a boat full of ice cream. When are you getting here? Kelse xx

Shielding the screen from the sun’s glare she could just make out Mirren’s reply – a picture of her friend hunched over her desk in the newspaper office wearing a thick cardigan and miserably holding up a healthy muesli bar.

Sucks to be me right now. See you mid-July, got a whole weekend off. Also got a night in late August. Want a visitor then too?

Kelsey smiled broadly to herself as she finished her ice cream and sent back just one word: ‘YES!’

Kelsey’s eye was suddenly caught by the familiar thick black font on a sign that read, ‘Historic Walking Tours: Tickets Sold Here.’ The sign stood on a narrow jetty jutting out into the water alongside a broad boat that seemed taller than all the rest. Its shutters were opened wide and inside she could make out a man sitting by a cash register. Making her way over to him, she guessed he was possibly in his late forties, though his dark skin, chiselled features, and bulging muscles made him appear far younger at first glance. He was squeezed into the familiar burgundy agency uniform. From his name badge she knew that this was the renowned Gianfranco, the one Will had told her about, Norma’s squeeze. Just as she was about to introduce herself, Kelsey recognised a voice from further inside the boat.

‘All right, Gi-Gi, you keep pushing those tickets for the Bard Crawl, and I’ll see you tonight.’

Norma had just finished counting money from the till into a bank deposit bag, and was leaning down to kiss Gianfranco’s handsome, placid face, when she spotted Kelsey.

‘Kelsey, dear! How lovely to see you. Settling in all right, are we? Good, good.’ As usual there was no time to reply. Norma ploughed on. ‘Have you met Gianfranco? He’s our best ticket seller. Doesn’t say much, but the tourists love him.’

Norma’s eyes sparkled as she looked down at him, and he returned the unmistakeable look of a man deeply in lust.

‘Nice to meet you,’ said Kelsey with delight, reaching into the hatch to shake hands. Good for you, Norma.

Gianfranco smiled coyly, revealing a little gap between his front teeth, putting Kelsey in mind of Arnie Schwarzenegger.

‘Hello,’ he said in a lilting voice that didn’t seem to belong to this big beefy bloke. He had started tidying the already very tidy leaflets on the window ledge in front of him. Kelsey instantly understood why Norma liked this big shy hunk of muscles. He barely spoke. He just listened. Perfect for Norma.

‘Kelsey, dear, aren’t you with the Italians today? Little break, eh? Jolly good. Can’t stand here chatting all day. Off to the bank. Count out those pennies, eh?’

Norma gave the money bag a sharp shake before kissing Gianfranco on his silent upturned face, first on the lips and then leaving a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose. The pair smiled sweetly at each other, as Kelsey watched on, feeling every bit the gooseberry. He whispered something inaudible that seemed to make Norma blush as she clambered out the low door and down the gangway, rushing as usual, and a little flustered too.

‘Norma?’ Kelsey cried out after her. ‘Thank you so much for the lovely welcome gifts.’

‘My pleasure, darling,’ she called back as she marched off into the crowds.

Kelsey smiled at the blushing Gianfranco who was looking down at his broad thighs, trying not to meet her eye. I’m guessing Norma didn’t hire this big softie for his tour guiding skills.

‘So are you mainly ticket sales, then?’ She grasped for something to say in the awkward silence.

Gianfranco nodded, keeping his eyes cast down. ‘Yes. You will be with me soon, no? Selling tickets. On Tuesdays?’ He was practically whispering in his soft accent somewhere between Spanish and Italian.

Selling tickets on the barge? I forgot about that. That’s it, I am stapling that rota to my forehead. She manged a sensible, ‘Right, great. Well I’ll see you then.’ Looking forward to the great chats.

Gianfranco went back to shuffling the leaflets about with a silent, affable nod.

It was getting on for lunchtime and Kelsey’s stomach was starting to growl. One ice cream cone just wasn’t going to cut it, and she could smell the food cooking in the town’s restaurants and pubs that were by now in full-on lunch service mode. Calling out her goodbyes to Gianfranco she wandered on, not relishing the idea of a sunburned picnic on the riverside in the blazing heat.