Page 72 of It's All Sun and Games

‘Mamma!’ Andrea calls out, beckoning his mother over.

Antonia quickly joins us, taking Nonna’s other hand, and before I know it, Andrea is lifting his nonna’s chair and stepping into the circle. We all move in and out, Hokey Cokey style, until the song finishes.

I can’t believe how amazing Andrea is, helping his gran to join in with the dancing like this. And I definitely can’t believe that Nonna will be one hundred tomorrow.

As the song comes to an end, everyone cheers, and Andrea puts his nonna back down safely on the ground. She shouts something to him.

‘Nonna says she really likes you,’ Andrea tells me with a grin. ‘She says you’re perfect for the family. She said she thought that I was going to be a playboy forever, but that you’re good for me.’

I smile, touched by his nonna’s kind words. It’s moments like these that make me feel like I belong here, even if it’s just for a little while.

I know that none of this is real, not really, but it’s nice to pretend while I can.

Now, where are those dessert courses?

31

As Andrea and I stroll through the gardens, it’s clear that we’re among the last guests to retire for the night. Slowly guests left, a few at a time, but not us. I’m pretty sure we were the last two on the dance floor, that’s for sure.

Members of the wedding party and their family members are all booked into these chic guest lodges that line the gardens here at the wedding venue. With everyone thinking that Andrea and I are engaged, it’s no surprise that we’re sharing a room. And yep, you called it, of course there is only one bed – and that’s where we’re heading now, after spending the day having fun together, and the last few hours quite literally joined at the hip on the dance floor.

Walking through the garden at night feels like strolling through a dream. The air is cool and crisp, carrying the faint scent of a mixture of all the flowers that are growing here. There isn’t much in the way of lighting, now that most of the lodges have their lights off for the night, so we have little more than the moon to light our way. It’s one hell of a bright one tonight, thankfully.

As we walk, the gentle rustle of leaves and the occasional chirp of crickets is about all you can hear now. The cool breeze feels so good on my skin – it’s warm work, dancing all night, especially when Andrea is the one you’re dancing with. Plus, after his nonna went to bed, then his parents, and then when it was finally just the young ones left on the dance floor, honestly, our dancing started to get raunchier and raunchier, until the DJ announced that the party was over. That soon pulled us apart, and gave us a bit of a reality check, I think.

‘So, are Italians just good at everything?’ I ask, nudging Andrea playfully as I break the silence. ‘You cook, you dance, you sing. You’re just perfect, really, aren’t you?’

Andrea laughs.

‘Dove sei stato tutta la mia vita?’ he replies, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Obviously, I have no idea what that means.

‘See, I don’t know what you just said, but somehow I just know that it’s nice,’ I tell him.

‘Well, you’ll never know unless you learn the language,’ Andrea teases.

‘How do you say “I love you”?’ I ask, the question slipping out before I can stop it. I’m just wondering out loud but, now that I think about it, it might seem a bit weird.

‘Ti amo,’ Andrea replies simply.

‘Wow, that sounds beautiful,’ I say.

‘It sounds even better when the right person says it,’ he tells me.

As Andrea unlocks the door to our garden room, I shift anxiously on the spot.

The fact that there is only one bed to sleep in aside, it’s a really nice space.

The decor is inviting, with muted tones of cream and pastel green and yellow shades, and the main pops of colour coming from the floral theme that runs throughout. It’s nice – a beautiful nod to the flowery garden outside – as opposed to the intense way the pattern dominated my grandparents’ bedroom in the nineties.

A large bed sits in the heart of the room but, otherwise, furniture is minimal. The bed is definitely the focal point, the main event, to the point where I’m starting to feel like it’s trying to pressure me into letting my hair, my guard and potentially my mother down.

There is only one other door in the room, that leads through to a small bathroom, and that’s pretty much it. Just me, Andrea and a bed – after what has felt like hours and hours of foreplay.

I need to stop thinking about that.

‘Maybe I’ll learn to speak the language one day,’ I say. ‘When I can be trusted to talk without accidentally committing a crime. I’m never going to live that one down.’

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