You Had Me at Merlot: Part 2 Page 5

  As quickly as it started he broke away, slung an arm around me and strode us off across the piazza.

  Once we were a safe distance, and I was quite sure I wasn’t going to spontaneously combust, I pulled a grinning Jamie to a stop.

  ‘Sorry about that, but I had to tell them you were my wife, and I had to make it convincing.’

  ‘Were they going to deport me for taking a photo?’

  ‘No, but I just felt like it. Sometimes the little embellishments can make a story more fun.’

  ‘And what story did you tell them, exactly?’

  ‘That you were my new wife from a foreign land, and you didn’t understand Italian very well but are absolutely entranced by our culture anyway. And that you are very vain and like to take a lot of photos of yourself wherever you go.’

  ‘You told them I was taking a selfie?’

  ‘Yes. I was like, look how beautiful she is, why wouldn’t she take a lot of photos of herself?’

  ‘Thank you, for the compliment, and for saving me from ending up in an Italian prison. Can I buy you a gelato?’

  ‘Um, YES.’ Jamie led me straight into the nearest gelateria, of which there was practically one on every corner, and we were faced with the agonising decision of which flavour to choose from the rows of tubs overflowing with soft, pillowy ice cream, all swirled with sauces and decorated with carved fruit.

  ‘What’s fior di latte?’ I asked Jamie.

  ‘It’s “flower of milk” – it means the best bits of milk. It’s a little bit sweet, like thick cream.’

  ‘Sold, I like trying new flavours. What’ll you have?’

  ‘The best flavour, stracciatella. It’s the same as yours, but with chocolate flakes in it.’

  I ordered and paid, all in broken Italian which had Jamie sniggering beside me, and we stepped back outside onto the cobbled street.

  ‘I just have something I need to do, really quickly, and then I’m going to take you to secret Florence. Will you be okay just hanging out here for a few minutes?’

  ‘Of course,’ I said through a mouthful of gelato, which I couldn’t bring myself to stop eating, even to talk.

  Off he went, and I took a slow stroll down the street, peering through the glass in the many arched windows of the shops. I stopped outside an intimissimi, and gazed at the slim, slowly rotating mannequins with pert bottoms in chic, frilly undergarments.

  I took a spoonful of ice cream. I was not the owner of any chic undergarments. Don’t get me wrong, just because I’m single doesn’t mean I only wear multi-pack briefs from Tesco (or at least I only do on gym days). I possess a fabulous array of brightly coloured thongs and sequin-bedazzled bras, but it’s been an awfully long time since I’ve bothered to match them. Or buy anything sexy. The sexiest thing I own is a way-too-small corset I forked out for at an Ann Summers party at university, which I keep for that special occasion that has never happened and if I dragged it out now I’d feel like a right lemon.

  But this lingerie was pretty, feminine, stylish. It was all dusky pinks and creams and carbon greys. I wondered if I should get some.

  I took another spoonful of ice cream. Would Jamie like this kind of underwear?

  ‘Going shopping or just admiring the view?’ he asked, standing next to me and making me snort ice cream and blush all at once.

  ‘Well, those mannequins do have fantastic bums,’ I coughed. ‘Shall we go?’

  ‘I got you a present.’ He handed me a brown paper bag and I tried to shake from my mind the present I’d just been contemplating giving him. I pulled out an electric blue T-shirt and unfolded it to see emblazoned on the front, in the Coca-Cola font, the words ‘Ciao Bella’.

  ‘For me?’

  ‘For you. To remember Italy by. I thought it was perfect.’

  ‘As if I could forget Italy.’ I was touched and looked up at him, holding the T-shirt close to my chest. ‘Thanks Jamie, this is sweet of you.’

  ‘It’s nothing really, just … you suit the name Bella. It suits you.’

  I ran my fingers over the words. ‘I’m having the best time so far. I really didn’t think I would. And you’re helping.’

  ‘You didn’t think you’d have fun?’

  ‘Not this much fun. You know, with the whole not-looking-for-love thing.’

  ‘I’m having fun, too. Now, how are your feet? Can you handle a walk or do you want to take the bus to our final stop?’

  ‘I’m walking; I don’t want to miss a thing.’

  We set off, following broad, leafy roads to the outskirts of the city, crossing over the Arno River and on to the south bank, where we started to climb a hill, chatting all the way. Jamie was keen to know what my favourite parts of the day had been, and I was torn between the cathedral and the gelato.

  ‘It’s just that I’ve never tasted anything like fior di latte – it was just like frozen double cream, which is a big plus. But on the other hand, the basilica was kind of impressive too …’

  ‘The gelato has won, hasn’t it?’

  ‘I believe it has. Am I horrible tourist?’

  ‘My whole business is based on taste, and people enjoying a taste so much that they want to stay in that place. The fact you’ve chosen a flavour as your favourite thing about our day trip just makes me think more highly of you. We’re nearly there.’

  We reached the top and turned, and only then did I look up to see what we’d been aiming for. We stood looking down across the whole of Florence, a sea of sparkling red roofs with the majestic Duomo di Firenze rising above them all, shimmering in the late afternoon sun. ‘Wow. Look at that. Where are we?’

  ‘Piazzale Michelangelo,’ Jamie said, taking my hand and leading me to the walled edge, where we perched and admired the view. ‘This is Florence. This is Tuscany. Do you like my home, Elle?’

  ‘I like it so much I don’t want to go back to my home,’ I sighed. We were still holding hands, and though I was gazing ahead I was aware of Jamie looking at me. ‘Are you looking at me?’

  ‘A little bit.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I don’t know. Nice views all around, I guess.’

  I leant my head on his shoulder and we sat for a long time watching the sun sinking, looking like a happy couple, feeling like it was a first date.

  The minibus rolled back into the vineyard some time after eight. Laurie and her three men had boarded with stacks of pizza boxes for everyone, so there was no need to scavenge for food when we returned. Jamie helped me off the bus.

  ‘Can I show you something? If you can bear to be around me for a bit longer?’

  ‘Sure.’ Of course. He took my hand like it was the most natural thing in the world now and began leading me toward one of the outhouses. I looked back at Laurie who was stood giving me a dramatic lunge and two thumbs up, and I widened my eyes back at her. Where was he taking me? Were we going to make out again? I licked my lips in anticipation, hoping they wouldn’t taste of pizza.

  Inside the cool building, which was all stone walls and wooden beams, there was a thick aroma from the oak barrels that were stacked high.

  ‘Are these all full?’

  ‘Every one of them – this is the 2008 Merlot, which was a great year for us.’

  ‘That’s a lot of wine. Don’t let Laurie in here alone.’

  ‘Come on, this way.’ As he walked me to the far end of the room I ran my hand over barrel after barrel. At the end a wooden staircase led downwards, and when Jamie flicked a switch a line of dangling light bulbs lit the way to the cellar below. ‘After you. I promise I’m not going to murder you.’

  ‘If you’re a murderer, I can’t exactly trust that you aren’t a liar as well.’

  ‘This is true. What if I tell you there’s some open wine down there.’

  I shrugged.

  ‘And some chocolate.’

  ‘You better not be messing with me or so help me God …’

  ‘I would never joke about chocolate with you, trust me.’

  Dow
n I went, and the stairs opened out to a perfectly curved cellar, lined with more barrels, but these ones upright. There also seemed to be some cooking utensils at the end that appeared to have been stolen from the Bella Notte kitchen.

  ‘Take a seat.’ He gestured to one of the barrels and I hopped up. He handed me a glass and poured from a black bottle an inch of thick, blood-red liquid. ‘Try this and tell me what you think.’

  ‘Is it blood? Are you a vampire?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Well, it smells like wine, that’s good enough for me.’ I took a sip, and it was like a hundred raspberries bursting in my mouth – both sweet and tangy – and something more. Jamie was watching me carefully and shuffling on the spot, eager for my reaction. ‘Oh!’

  ‘What? What can you taste?’

  ‘Oh! It’s … oh, it’s spicy!’

  ‘Too spicy?’

  I took another, bigger sip. ‘No, it’s absolutely amazing. It’s delicious and moreish, and has more than a little fire.’ I looked directly at him, afraid I was sounding a little too soap-opera innuendo right now. He was looking down at me, watching me intently with those dark eyes. ‘And my, it’s potent,’ I said, polishing the glass off and dragging my gaze away. He topped me up another inch and poured himself a glass too, breaking into a happy grin.

  ‘You really like it?’

  ‘Mmm,’ I said through my gulp. ‘Did you make it?’

  ‘It’s just something I’ve been working on. The wine is fortified, and then I’ve been infusing chilli in it.’

  ‘Chilli, huh? May I have some more?’ He refilled my glass, this time with a slightly more decent measure. ‘You are a very talented chap.’

  ‘I’ve been working on it for a while but you’re the first to try what I think might be the finished product. My first attempt was so hot I cried for days!’

  ‘Well, I am honoured. It really is delicious.’ Jamie’s smile could have lit up the room if the light bulbs weren’t already doing so. It was nice to see him so happy, and so passionate about something. Was I ever this passionate about work? I know I loved my job and all, but did I ever beam like a ball of sunshine if someone complimented a report I’d done? I guess it’s different if it’s something you made from scratch, something that’s all for you and your own company.

  ‘It’s strong alcohol content though; be careful,’ he chuckled.

  ‘Yeah, yeah, I think you mentioned something about some chocolate?’

  ‘Right!’ He pulled out a cling-film wrapped brick of chocolate so dark it was nearly black. ‘I made this too,’ he said shyly, getting out a small hammer.

  A man who makes chilli wine and his own chocolate? I don’t care how much the ladies would be all ‘We told you so’, I had to walk down the aisle and marry him immediately.

  ‘Close your eyes,’ he instructed.

  Please kiss me. Something cold nudged my bottom lip and I breathed in sharply.

  ‘Drink,’ he murmured, and I took a long sip from the glass, perhaps more than I should have but a blissful tingling of nerves was setting in. ‘Now open your mouth.’ I opened it a touch, in an alluring way. Or in a slack-jawed, slightly drunk way. ‘A little more.’ I obeyed, because that definitely sounded like an invitation to snog with tongues.

  And then he placed a small chunk of smooth chocolate on my tongue and the flavours melted all over the fiery chilli. ‘You didn’t really make the chocolate too, did you? Because if you did I’m never leaving.’

  ‘I made the chocolate too.’

  I sighed with happiness and reached for my glass again, my body relaxing and swaying a little, my eyes still closed. ‘How do you have so much patience to make all these things yourself? What about supermarkets?’

  ‘Supermarkets can’t give me the exact combinations that I need, which is such a dark, bitter chocolate that it becomes mellow and balances the chilli. It’s like a science. But … tastier.’

  ‘Amen.’ I drank more, and then a little more. This wine was perfection, and it was making me heady quickly. ‘You could sell this anywhere. Seriously. Like, even at a baby shop. You could package it right up and sell it as a special offer when someone buys a pack of dummies.’

  ‘Dummies?’

  ‘You’re a dummy.’ I hiccupped and stood up. ‘Woo-wee, this really is strong.’ Gulp. ‘You’re coming home with me.’

  ‘Am I?’

  ‘Yes, to make me wine and chocolate for ever more.’

  ‘Okay. Are you feeling okay?’

  ‘I feel … unsteady.’ I laughed.

  ‘Maybe I should take you back to your room now.’

  ‘Really? Will you kiss me again?’ Hello, where did that come from?

  He chuckled. ‘Maybe. We’ll see. Come on.’ He led me up and out of the cellar, but not before I leant back and grabbed the rest of the bottle of chilli wine to take with me. I was drinking more than I ought to, knowing it was making me behave in a way I would never normally behave, and bringing me closer to Jamie than I’d dare.

  ‘Look at all these barrels,’ I said as we staggered through the top level, ‘2008 was a good year for us.’

  ‘Yes it was.’ He opened the door and I stepped outside, where it was now twilight and no one else was around.

  ‘No one else is around,’ I stage-whispered. ‘Maybe you should kiss me.’

  Jamie reached for the bottle and took a swig himself. ‘Chilli wine, what have you done to my sweet Bella Ella?’ We stumbled away from the outhouse, crunching through the pitch black, over the dirt path and in the direction of the main building, whose lights were glowing warmly from inside. Inside, where all the others probably were. George. Donna.

  I stopped. ‘Can I tell you a secret? Sometimes I get so bored at my work and I think, I hate you all, and I think that when I’m CEO I’m just going to fire them all for being boring and for making me talk about work aaaaalll the tiiiiiime.’

  ‘I don’t think you mean that.’

  I slumped against the wall. ‘You’re right. They’re all fine. Maybe I talk about work too much? Do I talk about work too much?’

  ‘Not to me.’

  ‘Well you’re special. Where’s my kiss?’

  Jamie moved in close and pulled my body weight against him, and kissed me softly on the forehead. I sighed and wrapped my arms around his chest, feeling like our bodies were magnetically drawn to each other.

  ‘Fine,’ I said. ‘But I really don’t want to go back in there. I don’t want to see everyone or have people asking all these questions like, “What’s going on with you and Jamie?” and “How yummy is Jamie’s chest?”’

  ‘What do you suggest, Bella?’ he murmured in my ear.

  ‘Where’s your room?’

  He was quiet for a moment and I just stood there, leaning against him and breathing in his neck, my mind swirling with wine-fuelled giddiness and small drips of crystal clarity about the implications of what I was saying.

  ‘You can stay in my room with me, if that’s what you’re sure you want.’

  ‘Yes please,’ I yawned. I didn’t want to move my head from his chest, I could suddenly have fallen asleep right there, but even with this cloudy mind my heart was thump-thumping.

  He took my hand and we turned, walking back through the vineyard.

  ‘Are you drunk?’ I side-eyed him.

  ‘No. Maybe a little, I’m a bit more used to it than you. Are you?’

  ‘Drunk in love,’ I sniggered, then let out another enormous and very attractive yawn.

  ‘Are you tired?’

  ‘Maybe a little. It’s been just the best day, but very long, and you have a lot of sunshine in Italy. And a lot of wine.’

  We stopped at what seemed like a garage, but on entering turned out to be a lovely converted studio. The stone walls had been painted white and small touches made it homely and warm inside. Jamie switched on a lamp and turned to face me, his face nervous and apologetic.

  ‘It’s not much, and it’s not as fancy as your guest room,
but it’s mine and it’s away from everything else.’

  I ran my hand over a collection of photos of Enzo in little wooden frames, from (still fairly massive) puppy to the huge dog he was now. ‘I think it’s perfect.’

  ‘Should I … leave you to …’

  ‘Can we lie down for just a minute? Do you mind?’ He shook his head, and I wondered if I was crossing the line, or being too forward. But I genuinely just wanted to rest, just for a moment.

  He climbed on to his bed and stretched his arm out for me to lie on. I went to him, and as we lay there I wondered why I’d left it so long to lie with someone. It felt nice to be this close to another person. Safe, warm, intimate. But also scary, and I didn’t know what to say any more because all I could think about was his breathing, and my breathing, and how much had changed in the space of a day.

  He sighed, exhaling through his nose, which blew a tuft of my hair up and over my face. Jamie reached over to push it back and I instinctively nuzzled into his hand, kissing his palm lightly.

  ‘Elle …’ he said, and I shifted my body up so my face was level with him. I wanted that kiss. Did he want it too?

  Suddenly he brought his head up and crushed his lips against mine. I hadn’t kissed anyone for a long time, bar earlier today, and my body wanted to make up for it. I had the feeling he was the same, from his urgency.

  We kissed, our tongues tingling from the chilli, and pressed our bodies together on his bed, and the roaring fire slowed to softly crackling embers as we melted into it. I hadn’t thought there was a more delicious combination than chilli, wine and chocolate, but add the fourth ingredient of Jamie’s lips and finally my mouth was in heaven.

  My mouth felt like I’d been chewing on cotton. And when I opened my eyes, sticky with yesterday’s mascara and found myself staring into the T-shirt of Jamie, half of it balled in my mouth, sucked in through a sleep vacuum, I realised this was exactly what had happened. I lifted my head very slowly from his chest, leaving a trail of dribble on the bunched-up T-shirt. I glanced up, but he was snoozing like a very attractive baby.