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CHAPTER THREE
RAFEHADBUOYEDher up. The day felt brighter for the time she had spent with him.
And the night felt not so long, nor as dark, and Antonietta awoke the next morning with delicious anticipation.
Yes, even theprospectof seeing Rafe buoyed her up.
So much so that she decided to stroll into the village and do her shopping before her shift started.
In so many ways it was wonderful to be back. As Antonietta had explained to Rafe, when she had left Silibri it had been after a summer of fierce wild fires and the mountains and trees had been charred and black.
In fact the village had been slowly dying even before she was born, with shops and cafés closing and the youth moving on. Now, though, with the monastery refurbished, there was new growth all around. The trees were lush and there were winter wild flowers lining the roads. The village itself was thriving. Its produce and wares were now in demand, and the cafés were busy and vibrant.
She had already done some of her Christmas shopping—as well as presents for her parents and brother there was a lipstick for Aurora, which she bought faithfully each year. Just because her friend was newly rich, and could afford a lifetime’s supply of the vibrant red cosmetic, some things never changed.
Some thingsdidchange, though. Aurora was married now, and so Antonietta bought some chocolate for Nico at one of the craft stalls in the village square. And not just any chocolate. Hand-made Modica chocolate, which was so exquisite that even a man who had everything could never have enough.
Bizarrely, she thought of Rafe.
Or perhaps not so bizarrely. Because she had been thinking of him on and off since the previous day. More accurately, he had been popping into her thoughts since the day they had met.
‘Could I get the coffee flavour, too, please?’ Antonietta said impulsively to the stallholder—and then jumped when she heard her name.
‘Antonietta?’
It was Pino.
‘Did I catch you buying me a gift?’ he teased, when he saw her reddening cheeks.
‘No, no...’ Antonietta smiled back and then glanced at his shopping bag, which was empty. She knew that Pino was just killing time. ‘Are you on a day off?’
‘Yes, though I thought you were working?’
‘Not till midday. But Francesca wants me to go in a little early. No doubt because of our esteemed guest.’ She felt her cheeks go a little more pink.
‘That’s probably it.’ Pino rolled his eyes. ‘I heard he has asked not to have Chi-Chi service his suite again.’
‘Really?’ Antonietta’s eyes widened. ‘Why?’
‘I thought you didn’t like to gossip?’ Pino teased.
‘I don’t,’ Antonietta said, and hurriedly changed the subject. ‘Now, I have to choosetwopresents for Gabe—it is his first birthday next week, and then Christmas too.’
Pino was delighted to help, and soon they had a little wooden train for him, as well as a cute outfit, and Pino suggested they go for coffee.
‘I don’t have time,’ Antonietta said, which wasn’t quite true.
The sweet, spicy scent ofbuccellato—an Italian Christmas cake—wafted through a nearby café, and though she was tempted Antonietta was too nervous about bumping into her family to stop there for coffee and cake.
Instead, having said goodbye to Pino, she decided that she would bake her own, and headed into the village store. There she chose the figs and almonds that she needed to make the cake, and added a few other things to her basket before lining up to pay.
The shopkeeper was awkward with her, and did not make eye contact—and then Antonietta found out why.
‘Stronza!’
The insult came from behind, and Antonietta did not need to turn her head to know that the word was aimed at her. She had been called worse on previous trips to the shops. Steadfastly, she did not turn around, and though she was tempted to walk out without her groceries, she held her ground.
Another insult was hurled.‘Puttana!’
