Page 60 of It's All Sun and Games

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I’m absolutely stuffed after that insanely good three-course meal. It’s here, now, in this moment, that I understand why some people say you shouldn’t swim after you eat because, if I got in the sea right now, I would sink straight to the bottom, like a necklace off the Titanic (although I would probably go down more like the back end of the boat).

Back at home, my meals usually consist of just one course – or one and a dessert, if we’re being honest – but I’m really starting to get onboard with the multiple courses that seem to be the norm here. Well, why have just one thing for dinner when you can have several? That said, I’m low-key in pain, I think they’re like growing pains, as my body updates its capacity for food, but it could also be from just how much we’ve all laughed tonight.

Andrea must be exhausted from being the translator all evening because the conversation and the laughter have been nonstop. It isn’t just Rick who seems to adore Andrea, it seems like Beppe is having some kind of bromance with him too. Andrea has everyone well and truly charmed – even me, I must admit.

He looks beyond dreamy in his smart outfit tonight. He’s wearing a crisp white button-down shirt that perfectly complements his olive skin, with the sleeves casually rolled up to his elbows. Paired with tailored trousers and loafers, he looks like he should be on the cover of Vogue or something. I’ve done my best to match his style, in a chic little black dress (one of the few things I packed that I already owned), and while I might not look as effortless, I do feel good about what I’m wearing. I looked at my new outfits – the ones that were supposed to impress Rick – as a sort of armour but, with Andrea watching my back, I’m not so sure I need anything else.

Despite the warm evening, Andrea manages to look cool and composed – as always. There’s this relaxed confidence about him – something I wish I could manifest – and his posture is always impeccable, and his smile infectious – oh, boy. Sorry, I’ve had quite a bit to drink, and I think it’s making me all starry-eyed. My point is that… What is my point? I guess just that Andrea is handsome, cool, a snappy dresser – and all in a way that just seems so effortless. He isn’t trying to be anything, this is just him. And what a him he is. Yep, pretty sure that’s what I mean.

Beppe chats with the waiter and then, soon enough, another round of limoncello appears on the table.

Oh, boy, I’m already feeling tipsy, the last thing I need is another super-strong shot, but this is practically work, and if everyone else is drinking then it’s going to make me look bad if I’m the only one who doesn’t drink.

‘Salute!’ Beppe declares, raising his glass in a toast.

‘Cin cin,’ Andrea adds.

‘Is this a cheers?’ Rick asks, slurring his words. ‘Cheers.’

I raise my glass before knocking back my shot.

Limoncello is a funny one. It’s nice, it’s just so strong, and I keep going into it expecting it to taste, well, more like lemons.

I make a funny noise, and an even funnier face, stretching out my mouth – the shot equivalent of ‘walking it off’.

‘Beppe says he’s going to meet his driver,’ Andrea translates. ‘He says good night.’

‘How do you say good night in Italian?’ Rick asks him.

‘Buonanotte,’ Andrea replies.

Whatever it is that Rick says to Beppe, it isn’t that.

Beppe walks off, laughing to himself as he goes. You can just tell that he’s had a great night, and surely being a part of it can only help my chances – that’s if he’s not so drunk he won’t remember it tomorrow.

Rick, looking equally inebriated, just about manages to get on his feet.

‘I’m heading to bed,’ he announces, swaying on the spot a little. ‘Thank goodness none of us have far to go, huh?’

I nod in agreement, but it only shakes up my boozy brain.

‘Buonanotte,’ Andrea says to Rick.

‘Yeah, yeah, good night, Mambo Italiano,’ Rick replies – then he falls about laughing. ‘Hey, we should call you Rambo Italiano, because of all those muscles.’

My eyebrows shoot up. Andrea just laughs it off.

We watch Rick practically stumble off before making a move ourselves.

‘Shall we walk along the beach?’ Andrea suggests. ‘Get some fresh air.’

‘Sure,’ I reply. ‘I think I could do with it. Also, now I have “Mambo Italiano” stuck in my head. Do you like that song, or is that a bit like asking Scottish people if they like The Proclaimers?’

‘I don’t know what most of that means,’ Andrea replies with a bemused laugh. ‘But I love the song – of course.’

I try to sing a little but, as I’m finding out in real time, I don’t know any of the words beyond the ones in the title, so much of my singing is simply going: ‘Da-da-da da-da-da-da-da-da-da.’

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