He nodded again. ‘Ah, yes, the end of the Belle Époque, one of my favourites. That was the time when everybody thought everything was going right for the world, while the spectre of what would be the bloodiest war in history loomed before them. My period’s pretty much any time between the Risorgimento – that’s the unification of Italy in the mid-eighteen-hundreds – and the Second World War.’
‘Your period? Are you a teacher?’
‘No, but I did a degree in history and that period was my favourite. I’ve kept up an interest in it ever since. You maybe know I’m part-Italian, so I’ve always been fascinated by the history of this country.’ He gave her a gentle smile. ‘And, boy, does Italy have a lot of history!’
As he was speaking, Emma found herself surreptitiously checking him out. He was tall – not as tall as Rich or his father, but over six feet. He looked as if he was around her age or maybe a year or two older, maybe even nudging forty. His hair was light brown and cropped fairly short. His eyes were an unusual blue-grey colour and he looked as though he had been out in the sun. His face and his strong forearms were tanned a light golden colour which contrasted well against the crumpled white linen shirt he was wearing. His shoulders were broad and he appeared fit and healthy. There was no doubt about it, he was a very good-looking man, and Emma couldn’t deny the annoying feeling of attraction building inside her.
It was annoying because this sort of thing just didn’t happen to her.
After years without any but the most casual – mainly just physical – interest in men, she couldn’t understand why her brain had suddenly reacted like this, and before he had even spoken to her. She did her best to ignore the confusion in her head, but it was far from easy. Taking a firm grip on her emotions, she waved to the waitress to order a drink as a distraction from the turmoil swirling inside her after her reaction to meeting this man. As the waitress arrived at their table, the girl gave him a far broader smile of welcome than she had given Emma. Clearly, Emma wasn’t the only one to find this man attractive.
Shrugging off what could only be explained as a spark of jealousy, Emma waited until he had ordered a cold beer in perfect Italian and the girl had retired before asking about the history of Bordighera. His reply confirmed that he knew what he was talking about.
‘This part of the coast was pretty much invented, or at least discovered, by the English. In the late eighteen hundreds, the railway finally linked this part of the coast to Paris and then, in 1885, to London. Instead of weeks bumping about in a horse-drawn carriage, people could travel from London to Bordighera in comfort in less than twenty-four hours. As word got out of the mild winters down here, more and more wealthy Englishmen started building villas here. Up until then, there had been little more than fishing villages along this coast, but within a few years, around the turn of the century, they were transformed into chic watering holes for the very well off.’
‘So the villas we saw on our way into town would have already been here in 1910?’
He nodded. ‘Many of them, yes. Like this place.’ The waitress returned with his beer and he rewarded her with a smile that actually made the girl blush. He, however, appeared totally unaware of her reaction and turned back to Emma, raising the beer bottle before putting it to his lips and taking a sip. ‘Cheers. I needed that. It’s taken me six hours to get here, and the trains were crowded.’
‘Where’ve you come from?’
‘Umbria.’ Seeing the expression on her face, he elaborated. ‘The most beautiful region in Italy – well, in my humble opinion anyway. It’s to the south and east of Florence. You must have heard of places like Assisi and Perugia. And then, of course, there’s Orvieto.’
Emma nodded. ‘And you live in Umbria?’
He nodded. ‘I do now. As of a year ago.’
‘And you say it’s very beautiful. Maybe we should swing through there as part of this tour.’ At that moment Marina reappeared and Emma turned the question to her. ‘What do you think, Marina? Mark says Umbria’s gorgeous. Could we add a visit to that region or is it out of our way?’
Marina sat down and nodded. ‘Of course we can. In fact, it’s already on my list with a question mark alongside it. Mark’s right about it being very, very lovely.’
As Marina spoke his name, that same ridiculous sensation of jealousy struck Emma once more. What on earth was going on? She was jealous of another woman saying his name? Without thinking, she took a big spoonful of ice cream, followed by an even larger mouthful of sparkling water and only then realised this had been a serious mistake. As the freezing cold mixture in her mouth fizzed and bubbled and threatened to go up her nose, she had a horrible feeling she might be about to spit it out across the table and the result of that was too awful to contemplate. She was reaching for a handful of paper napkins from the chrome dispenser on the table when she heard Mark’s voice, his question directed at her, apparently unaware of her agitation.
‘Can you tell me a bit about the movie, Emma, or is it a secret?’
One thing was for sure: speaking was out of the question for now, unless she wanted to sandblast everybody around the table. Holding the napkins to her mouth, she looked desperately towards Rich and was mightily relieved to see him realise she was in difficulty and pick up the gauntlet. He gave Mark a sketchy outline of the plot and Emma had time to collect herself and finally clear her mouth. As the ice cream disappeared down her throat, she took a couple of big breaths and a much smaller sip of water, gradually recovering her composure. When Rich came to the end of his exposé, she shot him a grateful look and picked up the conversation.
‘The girl in the movie, Emily, has been involved with the suffragette movement and she’s here not because she wants to be, but because her father said so.’
‘Fascinating.’ He sounded as if he meant it. ‘Who came up with that idea?’
‘My boss, Rich’s father.’
Mark nodded across the table at Rich. ‘Great idea.’ He returned his attention towards Emma. ‘I’d better read up on the suffragette movement, I think.’
‘You do that.’ Emma did her best to sound like a Hollywood executive after her moments of unexpected disorientation. ‘Anyway, I’m delighted we’re going to visit Umbria after what you’ve said. That sounds great. It’s not such a big name as Tuscany and that’s what we’re looking for. Our brief is to find beautiful places that aren’t as familiar as more famous ones.’ She caught Marina’s eye. ‘What about tomorrow? Can you think of anywhere around here that’s a bit off the grid, but beautiful?’
Marina nodded. It didn’t surprise Emma to hear she had already thought about this. ‘Yes, I have something in mind that I believe would suit, but can you remind me where we’re at in the movie?’
‘Emily’s either just met or she’s about to meet Robert, the young British army officer she falls in love with.’
‘So it needs to be somewhere particularly romantic. Unless you find somewhere here in Bordighera that particularly appeals to you, I think we could take a trip inland to the little town of Dolceacqua. It’s only ten kilometres or so from here and it looks very historic, very scenic and, although I’ve never been there, very romantic with its narrow, winding streets, old buildings, a medieval castle on the hill, that sort of thing.’ She glanced across at Mark. ‘Do you know it?’