To Rome, with Love

If he was disappointed, he didn’t show it. With a parting glance at Melissa that elicited another outbreak of blushing, he headed back towards the door. ‘A bientôt.’ And he left.

As she had predicted, Sarah didn’t even have a lunch break and she preferred it that way, so as to avoid having to meet people. After the cupcakes had done the rounds, she felt sure everybody would now know what had happened to her and she dreaded being asked to talk about it. She spent all morning and most of the afternoon working her way through her emails. She knew she had a reputation in the company as a meticulous stickler for accuracy and she was going to do her best not to let a little thing like being dumped at the altar get in the way of that. Also, the deeper she immersed herself in her job, the less time she had to think about that tall, blue-eyed, handsome bastard, James. At least, that was the plan.

Just before four o’clock, she had a visitor. There was a tap on her door and she looked up to see that it was Paul’s brother, Miles. She hadn’t seen him for a couple of years and, although he looked a whole lot more handsome than she remembered, her first impression wasn’t promising. He was scowling.

‘Hi, Miles, long time no see.’

‘Hello, Sarah. How are you?’ His tone was polite, but she sensed he was just being very English and going through the motions before exploding with rage. What, she asked herself in genuine puzzlement, had she done to put that expression of impending Armageddon on his face? Still, she did her best to sound nonchalant.

‘So, Miles, do you want to come in and sit down?’

‘No.’ His terse answer must have struck even him as rude, so he qualified it. ‘No, thank you. I haven’t got time. Listen, there’s been an accident.’

‘An accident?’

‘It’s Lynnie Green – she’s been knocked off her bike.’

Sarah sat bolt upright. Lynnie was a good friend and one of their very best tour leaders who had started at Hall’s round about the same time as she had. Lynnie had accompanied groups of intrepid tourists to faraway places all around the globe, into jungles, and even across the snowy wastes of the Arctic.

‘We’ve just heard from her. She was knocked off her bike this morning and she’s in hospital with a broken leg. Fortunately, it’s not too bad, but she’ll be on crutches for a few months.’ He paused so that Sarah could realise the ramifications of this development as far as the company was concerned. The penny dropped just as Miles spelt it out. ‘Yes, that’s right. She was all set to lead the charity cycle ride in Italy starting on Sunday, the one I’m going on.’

Sarah didn’t reply immediately, her brain desperately turning over alternative reps for the job. Apart from being such a good, friendly, sociable leader, Lynnie was also an excellent cyclist and, indeed, one of Sarah’s regular companions on longer rides outside London. Finding a replacement wasn’t going to be easy, and the trip was scheduled to start at the weekend, only four and a half days away. It soon became clear that Miles had already worked out a solution.

‘I don’t see any alternative, Sarah; I’m afraid it’ll have to be you.’ His tone brooked no dissent and she felt her hackles rise. ‘There just isn’t anybody else available at such short notice. I’m coming along and I’ll do my best to lend a hand, but I’ve got a million other things to do over the next few weeks so I can’t commit to playing the leading role. You spent a good few years as a tour leader and your results speak for themselves. You were one of the best we’ve ever had.’ Somehow, he even managed to make this compliment sound grudging and Sarah cleared her throat, ready to retort. ‘It has to be you.’

‘Thank you for those kind words, Miles.’ Her tone was dripping with irony. She took a deep breath, reminding herself she was talking to the future head of the company. No good would come of making an enemy of him. ‘But surely there’s somebody else we can call. There must be.’ Her heart sank as she thought it through. He was right; it wasn’t going to be easy to find a replacement at such short notice. Lynnie hadn’t just been a helper on the ride; she had been the leader. Although, as Miles had said, Sarah hadn’t been out on the road with tourists for some years now, she had done a lot in her time and didn’t need Miles to tell her she had been good at her job. Under normal circumstances, particularly as this trip involved cycling, her favourite sport and hobby, and Italy, one of her favourite countries, she would have leapt at it but, the way she was feeling right now, the idea of two weeks of unrelenting cheerfulness and sunny smiles really didn’t appeal. She opened her mouth to tell Miles she just couldn’t do it, but then closed it again. He really was right. She was the only logical choice. With a very heavy heart, she nodded and replied.

‘Of course, you’re right, Miles. I suppose it’ll have to be me.’

‘That’s very good news.’ For a moment, a look of what might almost have been gratitude crossed his face and he even gave Sarah a little smile. ‘Anyway, you never know, you might enjoy yourself. Some fresh air, some exercise and all those lovely little endorphins flooding through your body may be just what you need.’ To her surprise, he added a personal observation. ‘You’re looking a bit pale and wan today. I remembered you as more active, more of an outdoor sort.’

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him that she was still an active, outdoor sort, when she had the time away from the office. It had been James – miserable, selfish, bloody James – objecting over and over again to her going off for weeks at a time that had made her transfer to a desk job. For the first time since Miles’s arrival at her door, she felt a glimmer of optimism. If she and James had still been together, this situation would have caused a God-Almighty row. At least now, without him whining offstage, she could make her own decisions again. With far less difficulty than she had expected, she found herself smiling back at Miles.

‘You might well be right. The idea of a couple of weeks in sunny Italy is really rather appealing.’ Then she had a thought. ‘But, hang on, I gather your brother’s coming along as well. Couldn’t the two of you manage it without me? Surely he could be of help?’

The smile on Miles’s face disappeared in an instant. ‘Don’t count on Paul for anything. I certainly don’t.’

Sarah had to restrain herself from querying this assertion. Certainly, it didn’t sound very brotherly. Her momentary burst of optimism at the idea of going on this bike ride was suddenly extinguished as she realised it sounded as though she was going to find herself in the middle of a family feud.

She gave a sigh and then changed the subject as another thought occurred to her.

‘Are you and Paul going to be up for the cycling? It’s a thousand kilometres and it’s going to be pretty hilly, isn’t it?’

Miles nodded. ‘I’ll be okay, thanks.’ He didn’t go into detail so Sarah hoped he was right. It would be embarrassing if the future head of the company wasn’t up to the challenge and had to be carted round in the back-up wagon. Mind you, she admitted to herself, he certainly did look fit. There wasn’t an ounce of excess fat on him. ‘As for Paul, he spends more time on his bike than he does in the office.’

‘Office? I thought he’d been doing an MBA.’

For the first time Miles sounded slightly shifty. ‘Yes, well, anyway, now that he’s supposed to be coming into the company, he’ll need to get his priorities right.’ Sarah couldn’t help noticing how he emphasised the word supposed. Clearly, the notion of being joined by Paul didn’t appeal to Miles in the slightest. Once again, Sarah had to bite her tongue. Thankfully, Miles now turned the subject away from his younger brother. ‘And what about you, Sarah? Are you fit enough?’

‘Fitness is the least of my worries. Did you realise that almost all the people on this ride are going to be from the travel trade, mostly our competitors? You can bet your life they’ll be rubbing their hands with glee if I screw up.’

‘You won’t screw up, Sarah.’ For the first time, Miles sounded encouraging. ‘Besides, you’ll have Polly driving the van and a former pro cyclist as a guide on the road. His name’s Gianluca and we haven’t used him before. Let’s hope he works out all right.’

Chapter 3 (#ulink_bf339be2-f0bc-5a04-9442-a35101faddf9)

Sarah’s first sight of Gianluca was not auspicious.

She had deliberately chosen the very early flight on Sunday morning from London to Venice Marco Polo airport, so as to be able to meet the people taking part in the charity ride as they all arrived over the course of the day from different parts of the world. She was travelling with Polly from the adventure tours department, who was an old friend. Polly had worked at the company for a good few years now and spent almost half her year abroad with groups of tourists. It would be her job to drive the back-up vehicle with all the luggage and, if necessary, anybody who got into difficulty on the trip.

It was a bright, sunny day and the Venice lagoon was clearly visible below them in all its beauty as the aircraft came in over the red roofs and domes of Venice and landed on the runway that had been built sticking right out into the water. They had arranged to meet Gianluca first thing in the morning as soon as they stepped off their plane. In consequence, considering they had arrived in Venice just after eight, but the cycle guide didn’t turn up until gone eleven o’clock, Sarah was far from impressed. The fact that he looked as if he had just been pulled through a hedge backwards also didn’t help. In fact, when he sidled up to them as they waited by the Arrivals gate, Sarah took one look at him and very nearly called Security.

‘Signorina Sara?’ It was only the fact that he used her name that convinced her he was who he claimed to be and not a potential mugger.

She answered him in Italian. ‘Yes, are you Gianluca?’

‘Si.’

Sarah groaned inwardly. He was a very slim man, about as tall as she was, maybe in his late thirties or even early forties. He could have been quite good-looking, but for the fact that, this morning, his eyes were more bloodshot than your average vampire and he was quite patently suffering the effects of a hangover of Rabelaisian proportions. Whatever he had been drinking the night before, it was probably more commonly used for cleaning grease-caked derailleurs than as a civilised beverage. Sarah took two steps back and resolved to get the map out tonight and go over the route. From the state of their guide, they could well end up in Croatia otherwise.

‘You’re going to be our mechanic and guide?’

‘Si.’

Clearly he wasn’t given to long sentences. He didn’t hold out his hand in greeting. From the look of him, the effort would have exhausted him. Sarah shot a glance across at Polly and decided to make the best of a bad job. If he was all they’d got, he would have to do. For now.

‘We expected you earlier.’

‘Si. Scusi.’ No explanation offered, but his bloodshot eyes were all the explanation she needed.

‘We want to set off tomorrow morning before nine o’clock, and the rental bikes are being delivered at eight. We need you to be there to check them and fit them. Can you promise me you’ll be at our hotel before eight?’

‘Si.’

Sarah reached into her bag and pulled out a fresh yellow cycling jersey in a plastic bag. ‘Here, will you make sure you’re wearing this tomorrow, please?’

‘Si.’

He took the jersey with what could have been an attempt at a thank you, but his voice didn’t reach as far as Sarah’s ears. She caught his eye.

‘Do you know which hotel we’re staying in?’

‘Si.’

At least that sounded positive, but she decided to put him to the test anyway. ‘What’s it called?’

‘Hotel Internazionale.’ At least he could manage more than single syllables.

‘And you know where it is?’