To Rome, with Love. T Williams A

hair. Glynis, now firmly reunited with her phone, and Jo couldn’t take their eyes off him and Sarah felt an inexplicable flash of what could almost have been jealousy. She instantly chased this off with a mental shrug as just some sort of crazy, mixed-up result of the pounding her emotions had taken over the last few weeks. She led Gianluca up to their table and introduced him. This was when she got her next surprise of the day, as the Italian replied to their greetings in English.

      ‘Hi, everybody, it’s good to meet you all. I’m really looking forward to what should be a great ride. Come and see me any time if you need help with your bikes.’ He spoke really good English, with hardly any Italian accent at all.

      As they made their way over to a free table, Sarah looked across and addressed him in English. ‘Hey, Gianluca, your English is amazing.’

      ‘Like a native…’ Polly was obviously as surprised as Sarah.

      He waved away their compliments. ‘Actually, French is my first foreign language. I picked my English up on the road. Cycling’s a really cosmopolitan sport these days. I was with a Dutch team for a good few years and everything was in English.’ As he spoke, Sarah could hear a faint, almost American twang in his accent. ‘Besides, Sarah, your Italian’s really good, and your grammar’s a hell of a lot better than mine. Where did you learn to speak like that?’

      ‘I did Spanish and Italian at university.’

      Sarah was feeling surprisingly good now. She had slept a bit better last night, without so much of the soul-searching she had been doing for the past week. Although she felt she had been getting better at keeping a lid on her emotions during daylight hours, her subconscious had still been giving her a hard time at night. For days now, she had found herself questioning if she was somehow to blame for the sudden end of her relationship with James. Yes, she knew she worked hard and was often away at conferences and travel shows. Yes, she had her hobbies and came home late a few times a week, and often went for long bike rides at the weekend. But then, so did he. And she had never objected to his hobbies and outside interests while, given his way, he would no doubt have preferred her to do nothing but stay in the house and cook him dinner. The more she thought about it, the more she was coming round to thinking that maybe marriage to James wouldn’t have been such a great idea, after all. Armed with that thought, she had managed a clear four or five hours sleep for once.

      She looked round. The sun was shining outside, her hungover guide had emerged, butterfly-like, from his scruffy chrysalis, and Miles was actually remembering her advice and smiling for a change, although not at her and not at his brother. The fact that he was smiling at a bunch of pretty girls was unimportant. He was smiling and that meant, surely, he was satisfied with the way things were going so far. And if he was happy with the way things were going, that meant he had to be happy with how she was doing. After the staring contest of the previous evening, she felt a sense of relief that her future boss appeared to be settling down and relaxing.

      She spotted Terri sitting all on her own and led the other two across to her table. ‘All right if we join you, Terri?’ She got an enthusiastic nod in return. ‘You already know Polly, and this is Gianluca, our cycling expert. He used to be a pro.’ The morning of surprises hadn’t finished. Terri’s reply was really unexpected.

      ‘So did I.’ In response to the looks on their faces, she explained. ‘Only for six months, almost eight years ago now.’ She looked across at Gianluca. ‘Women’s cycling was only just taking off in those days and the team I was riding for couldn’t get sponsorship for the following season so, before we knew it, we were all out of a job again. I know you, Gianluca. I’ve seen you race.’

      ‘You have?’ Now it was his turn to look surprised, and pleased.

      ‘We were training in the Alps and we caught a couple of stages of the Critérium. You’re a climber, and a very good one. I remember seeing you leading the peloton up the Col du Galibier.’ She grinned. ‘We climbed it the next day, but we didn’t go up there anything like as fast as you guys.’

      ‘Well, well, well, it’s a small world.’

      Sarah left the two of them exchanging cycling stories and went off to get herself a bowl of muesli and a glass of orange juice. She mentally ticked off Terri on her list. It looked like she was well introduced to the group. And, even better, she was definitely one who wouldn’t need a ride in the minibus.

      ‘Good morning, Sarah. Sleep well?’ She looked round to find Lars smiling down at her. He, too, was wearing his official jersey and cycling shorts, his lanky legs sticking out like poles. She gave him a big smile and found herself thinking that this definitely hadn’t involved any strain to the face muscles at all. Yes, she thought to herself, maybe she was going to enjoy this ride, after all.

      ‘Hi, Lars. Yes, thanks, I slept like a log.’ It wasn’t strictly true, but her problems were hers, not his. ‘You all ready for the ride?’

      ‘Hopefully. I maybe had a bit too much grappa last night, but I’ll live. I’ve asked for a bike with a big frame, otherwise my feet are going to be touching the ground. As for the fitness side of things, we’ll see. I’ve had a busy few months so I haven’t got round to doing as much training as I would have liked.’

      ‘You look fit enough to me. You’ll be fine, you’ll see. As for the grappa, ask Gianluca to tell you about the grappa his granddad used to make. I’ve seen the results. It’s scary stuff.’

      ***

      They set off shortly after nine. While they were waiting around, Sarah had the opportunity to chat to all the participants and was delighted to hear everybody sounding positive about the hotel and the trip so far. She was also delighted to hear from Jo that Glynis had been checked and was carrying her phone. Sarah gave them both a grin. A few people were apprehensive about what awaited them, but she was able to allay their fears by telling them that their route that day was going to be dead flat.

      ‘From the map, the highest point we reach is seven metres.’ She grinned and pointed to a fine palm tree in the hotel grounds. ‘That tree over there’s higher than that.’

      The route that day, from a logistical point of view, was complicated. The plan was to cycle all the way round the Venice lagoon and they would need to take no fewer than three ferries to help them complete the circular ride. Although it was possible to take bikes on two of the ferries, the third was only for pedestrians so Sarah had had to book a boat specially for their group. She was fervently hoping it would arrive as planned and be big enough, otherwise they were likely to find themselves marooned on a long, thin island for the night.

      They set off along a busy main road, but soon turned off onto quieter country roads, riding only a few metres from the waters of the lagoon. Big, tall Lars got a better view than anybody else, but even little Terri must have managed to glimpse the vast extent of water, dotted with little islands, most little more than swampy islets, some with clumps of cypress trees. There were numerous elegant white ibis and occasional statuesque grey herons in the shallows, accompanied by a variety of ducks and geese. From time to time they caught sight of boats, mostly flat-bottomed punts being sculled along, gondola-style. It was a really beautiful, and a very easy, ride.

      After a while, they emerged onto the coast road, riding alongside a vast, sandy beach facing south, punctuated by wooden groynes to protect the precious sand from being washed away. Already now, in mid June, there were quite a few tourists to be seen, and the beach was a hive of activity as the owners of the never-ending succession of private bathing establishments set out their sunbeds and umbrellas ready for the onslaught that would start in less than a week, when the school holidays began. Sarah was glad they would be well away from the seaside by then.

      It was just as they were setting off again after their coffee break, so as to catch their first ferry, due to leave at half past twelve, that Sarah heard a voice from behind her.

      ‘Sarah.’

      She immediately recognised Miles’s voice. She braked and fell back alongside him. The bright-yellow bike the rental company had supplied for him was unmistakable.

      ‘Hi, Miles.