Someone to Love (13 page)

“Welcome,” announced two young shop assistants with refined features.

“You've brought a friend, Signora Lucy?” another continued, carefully scrutinizing me.

My sister let out a chuckle. “Who, her?” she asked, pointing, as if I were a freak. “No, she's only my sister. I couldn't go out with friends who are dressed like this. So I absolutely need you to transform her,” she said with conviction.

The shop assistants exchanged suspicious glances, and indicated that I should follow Lucy to the room on the right.

A world I didn't know existed opened before my eyes. A girl was arranging a series of colourful leather bags on display.

“My God! Is this the new collection?” asked Lucy enthusiastically. I looked at her for a few moments, as her hand slid along the display.

“Oh, no not this one. This would look great on a little girl at her first communion… this one is really embarrassing… this might be fine.” She took some clothes and laid them over her bent arm. “Come on, Mia. Go and try these!” she commanded.

After having tried on several very uninspiring outfits, I looked at myself carefully in the large mirror of the dressing room. Not bad, I thought. I wore a tight black knee length skirt, a white shirt with a deep V-neckline and a bolero in a light ribbed cotton. I lifted my hair and I turned right and left, studying myself. I was excited.

“Are you all right in there?” asked a bored Lucy.

I opened the curtains, I swallowed and took a step forward.

Lucy's face brightened. She started jumping about joyfully, clapping her hands. “Yes! Yes! I created a masterpiece!” she exclaimed, satisfied with the combination. She ran off in search of something, passing an illuminated faux column.

Shoes were arranged in lines on long glass shelves. They looked like trophies.

My sister hurried back. “Try these,” she said, handing me a pair of ten-centimetre heeled open toe court shoes. They fitted to perfection.

I strutted in front of them, careful not to trip. I would have buried myself if I made a fool of myself like that in front of my sister.

“I'll take everything,” I said in a small voice. I was breathless with excitement.

The shop assistants nodded and accompanied me to the checkout. I swiped my credit card, oblivious of the amount. I was so excited that I didn't even look at the price tags. After all, once in a while I could afford some pampering.

I left the shop light headed and satisfied, clutching three Gucci bags tightly in my hands.

All in all, spending time with Lucy wasn't so tragic. In her own environment she seemed like another woman, less rigid and more accessible.

*

I sank into a warm bath, breathing in the vanilla perfume wafting through the room. I immersed myself until my nostrils touched the surface of the water. Then I settled more comfortably, put my head back on the edge of the tub and closed my eyes. It was one of my adolescent rituals, it had never changed with the passing of the years.

When I came out of the tub, I wrapped myself in a towel, and stood on the threshold of the bedroom: the wardrobe was in a state of total disarray. I chose one of the new outfits and took it from the hanger. Alberto would arrive soon.

I wanted to surprise and amaze him. The dress was elegant, fitted around the waist and falling just above my ankles. It left my shoulders bare, so I decided to wear a stole. I stood on tiptoes imagining what shoes I should wear.

Just a little makeup round the eyes and a thin layer of red lipstick. Nothing else.

I went downstairs, taking care not to trip on the high heels.

Bubu was asleep on the couch, but as soon as he heard the sound of my footsteps, he ran towards me.

“No, Bubu. It's not the right moment. When I come home, I promise you I'll take you out,” I said softly, reaching out to stroke him.

The sound of the bell warned me that Alberto had arrived. It was our first official date and it was natural that I was nervous.

“Ready!” I cried, running to the door.

I gave one last look in the mirror, I put on my necklace and left. Alberto was surprised and went to open the passenger door.

“Mia, you're… you're lovely,” he said, admiring me. “I'll have to fight off people who will be looking at you.”

I was hoping for a similar reaction because my style was usually more sober. I felt good about being courted and quickly overcame the initial embarrassment.

“You're exaggerating, it's nothing special. You look very good yourself,” I said. And it was true, someone should forbid him to wear that stylish outfit with a smile like that.

“Well then, that ‘nothing special' looks great on you.”

Alberto drove quietly and in a relaxed way, perhaps a little too carefully. When the car pulled up ten minutes later, I gasped: he had taken me to the chicest restaurant in the city. It was about fifteen minutes from the centre, on the Maddalena hill, the green lung of Turin. I had never been in such a fancy place. I had to admit that the dress I was wearing was perfect for the occasion.

The place was small but intimate. Alberto gave his name as we entered, and the waiter motioned us to follow him. Alberto's hand slid down my back, as if to invite me to precede him, but in that gesture and in his eyes I felt no gallantry. Only an unpleasant feeling of discomfort. Why did he keep looking around, and why was his expression so serious?

The waiter took us to a table in a secluded corner at the back of the restaurant.

The room was very elegant: light festoon curtains fell in front of the windows, the walls were covered with a damask fabric and the ceiling was of dark wooden beams. Each table was lit by a candle.

I was enchanted and didn't want to spoil the start of our first date with petty paranoia. I kept telling myself that everything was fine.

I looked at the menu, how many twists in words to describe a simple dish. I wanted to laugh.

“It's a joke, right?” I cried, when I saw the menu prices. “A dinner costs as much as one of the most expensive therapies at my clinic.”

“You shouldn't think about that,” he scolded. “Shall we choose a surprise?” asked Alberto, looking at the confused expression painted on my face.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“You'll see now,” he added, beckoning the waiter.

The waiter came over at once with a friendly smile.

“Bring us your best dish and a bottle of your best wine,” ordered Alberto, and returned the menu, smiling. “Certainly, sir,” replied the waiter, moving away at an orderly pace.

“I'm really curious. I've never been here.”

“Do you like it?”

“Yes, I like it, of course! It's so…” I began, without finding the right words.

Alberto stared at me with a look of satisfaction. “I was hoping this would be your reaction. I often come here and shortly you will understand why.”

“So, tell me about your day.”

“Very hard. I was in the hospital all day, I don't know if you heard on the news about that accident on the bypass.”

“Oh, don't tell me that…”

“Yes. I operated on the son urgently, but there was nothing we could do for the parents.”

There was a moment of silence. “I'm so sorry, I don't know what to say. Let's try to amuse ourselves tonight without thinking about work or sad things, what do you think?”

Alberto's face broke into a seductive smile as soon as the wine arrived.

“I propose a toast!” he exclaimed, lifting his glass.

I followed suit. “And what shall we drink to?”

“To us, with the best yet to come.”

Dinner went better than I had hoped. I let myself be enveloped by the intimate atmosphere created between us.

I'd only just met Alberto, but he was surrounded by an aura of mystery sufficient to raise my interest. Sometimes he talked too much and at other times he remained silent. He alternated glances of complicity and interest to a more detached attitude, as if he feared being watched. That behaviour made me a little wary, but I wasn't going to let him know that.

I discovered many things about him. He was smart, strong and determined. He always got what he wanted. After graduating and completing his specialization, he went to Africa, where he worked as a doctor. All his success was earned and had nothing to do with his family name. We were immersed in a conversation that prevented me from seeing what was around us.

“Your mother came round to say hello,” I dared to say at one point.

Alberto raised an eyebrow. “Oh yes? What did she want?” he asked, raising a glass to his mouth.

“A chat. She gave you an excellent review,” I said, pursing my lips.

“She'll never change,” he replied, shaking his head. “She wants, at all costs, to see me married, to a charming, smart woman like you,” he began with a wink.

I wrinkled my nose. “Don't be silly, I'm just like any other girl.”

“I don't think so, you have a lot of qualities.”

“Perhaps before than my qualities, I should first list my defects. I'm messy and I have a tendency to lose things, I'm perpetually anxious and often I see the glass as half empty. And I'm incapable of discernment when I am in front of a dessert…”

Alberto looked at me, interested. “You should have said so immediately. I'll order the house dessert.”

There was something about Alberto that attracted me and it had been a long time since I had been curious about someone. I didn't know if it was because of the evening or simply because he was a great man. It had been a long time since I had smiled that way.

I reflected on the inevitability of our encounter, and I would never have imagined being able to change my mind so soon: Fiamma was right.

“What are you thinking about?” Alberto's voice pulled me back from my thoughts.

“I was wondering why me.”

The bewildered expression on Alberto's face forced me to add “Sorry, it was a really stupid question. I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable, I often say things that don't make sense.”

Alberto patted my hand. “No, it's not. Specially if it's something that you need to know the answer to. From the first moment I saw you, I thought that I would like to spend time with you,” he paused. “And I haven't regretted it. I can say that a date with you is more entertaining than a Juventus match.”

“Hey, that's not a nice thing to say to a woman,” I cried, a little offended.

He almost burst out laughing before answering. “And you are quite touchy, I may add. I was making fun of you.”

“Oh…” I murmured, glancing at him unconvinced.

“I've met so many women and some very beautiful ones, just like you, but you're different. I feel that there is something special about you. Every time I think I understand something about you, everything changes.”

I attempted to laugh. “Is that good or bad?”

“I want to figure out who you really are, and there's nothing wrong with that.”

We stared at each other for a long time. I understood, without hesitation, in that moment that I wanted to kiss him.

The dessert arrived, a soft sponge cake with chocolate, stuffed with whipped cream and cherries.

“Try it and tell me how it is,” said Alberto.

I licked my lips. “Oh my, Alberto. You have to try this! It's delicious…”

Alberto studied me with a mischievous smile. Then he stood up and gave me a gentle kiss on the lips. “You're right, it tastes great,” he said, walking away.

My facial expression said it all. “I think I caught a slight irony in your gesture…”

“That's another thing I like about you. You can't lie like other women, when out to dinner. You're not afraid of losing face by showing who you really are and you don't pretend you're not hungry and order a miserable salad.”

“So, you've understood that it's cheaper to buy me clothes than to take me out to dinner, have you?” I asked, amused. Alberto sighed. “Oh, Mia, how did I manage before meeting you?”

*

It wasn't very cold outside and the stole was enough to keep the lightly blowing breeze from me. Alberto put his arm around my waist as we approached the car. With a careful gesture he opened the door and helped me to get in.

We arrived at the house and he accompanied me to the entrance. His face was a breath away from mine, and I knew that he wanted to be invited inside from the expression on his face. His eyes were fixed on my mouth, bliss. I was happy. Something in my life was finally changing for the better and that was enough to make me feel good.

“Thanks for the lovely evening, really,” I murmured softly. “I don't know what to say, the restaurant was amazing…”

Alberto moved a lock of hair from my shoulder and brought his lips to my neck while his hand rested gently on my side. Instinctively, I turned my face.

He shook his head. “I spent a wonderful evening with you and I don't want it to end,” he whispered, brushing his lips against mine.

We kissed passionately. I wanted him too and I was rapidly losing control of the situation. We were so close, yet I felt there was a distance between us that I had created.

“This self-flagellation is really unbearable. Could we continue this conversation inside?” he said as he kissed me.

I stepped back suddenly, looking into his eyes. “I…” I couldn't find the right words. “I'm sorry,” I said, confused. “I don't want to rush things, it's still early. I hope you understand…”

Alberto made me keep quiet, putting his index finger on my lips. “I know, you don't intend to go to bed with a man you've only known a few days. I want you to know that you don't have to explain anything.” He took a deep breath. “I'll wait for you, although it will be difficult,” he whispered in my ear.

“Believe me, for me it means a lot. I don't want to sound stupid, but I'm scared and I don't want to throw it all away. I want to live this relationship calmly.”