Page 2 of An Italian Wedding Adventure

‘I was picturing just a wreath of flowers. The big white dress isn’t my thing anyway,’ Lily explained. ‘It’s the experience that’s important to us.’

‘After the scare we had six months ago…’ Roman’s glance at his fiancée this time was haunted. He turned back to Sophie with an earnestness that was touching, even in her state of distraction. ‘We have a lot to celebrate. The doctors weren’t sure if Lil would walk again. But she made a complete recovery and we’re climbing just like before.’

‘Oh, thatissomething to celebrate.’ And a reason to get over her own stupid mistakes and make their dream a reality. ‘I’m so sorry you went through something so traumatic.’

‘As Roman said, I made a complete recovery,’ Lily explained. ‘It wasn’t even an accident or anything. I just developed sepsis from pneumonia – rare, but it could happen to anyone.’

‘I proposed to her while she was on life support,’ Roman added, his voice weaker. ‘But I had to propose again when she recovered, because she only remembered it in a bit of a haze.’ He gave a short laugh that Sophie knew hid his lingering trauma.

‘Well, I suppose we need to plan a wedding that’s at least as dramatic as your engagement,’ Sophie said, bolstering her smile. ‘Aside from the… summit, did you have any other specifics about the location? A country? I see you’re looking at September or October next year, which gives us plenty of time to book a venue – for the reception, I mean. For the Alps, we could look at France or Austria, or perhaps even Slovenia. We had one couple marry near Lake Bled two years ago and their budget stretched a little further there.’

Of course, the Alps ran through oneothercountry that she had failed to mention – perhaps on purpose. It was one of the most popular with her clients, the destination for the majority of the weddings she’d planned over the six years she’d worked for I Do.

She was an expert on Italian weddings. She knew all about the‘Atto Notorio’ and the ‘Nulla Osta’ and the intricacies of municipal politics in Tuscany and Verona and she’d even helped a pair of avid history buffs tie the knot near Pompeii last year.

But the combination of Italy and a mountaintop wedding clogged in her throat. She should have been over it. Shewasoverhim. She’d be a fool to still harbour romantic notions when the relationship had never been serious – to him at least. But that day, the 29thof February nearly eight years ago, had etched itself into her obsessively overthinking consciousness. She had to find a way to be a professional about it – although mostly, she was hoping they just picked Austria or Slovenia instead.

‘Before Lil got sick, we’d started looking at a holiday,’ Roman said.

Sophie’s stomach sank. He was going to say it. She couldfeelit. Smoothing her hair nervously, she wouldn’t have been surprised to find a wild tangle rather than the neat chignon in her favourite sparkly clip. She slurped her tea to tamp down on her panic.

‘And our parents love the idea,’ Lily continued, ‘of an Italian wedding.’

Oh, boy. ‘Who wouldn’t? Were you… thinking of the Alps or the Apennines? Piemonte or Tuscany, Dolomites or…’ She forced herself to say it. ‘South Tyrol?’Please don’t say South Tyrol.

‘Actually, we love water sports too, so we were hoping to find somewhere we could swim and windsurf as well – maybe for the bachelor party. Plus, our parents wanted somewhere to sit and enjoy the beach.’

‘Beachandmountains.’

‘Somewhere with local vineyards would be amazing too,’ Roman added. ‘We’d love a whole programme of activities for everyone – wine tasting, windsurfing, rock climbing.’

‘Beach, mountains – with a cross on top – vineyards and adventure activities,’ she repeated, blinking rapidly as she wrote the words painstakingly onto the blank page of her tablet with her stylus. Her script looked blurred and loopy – like these wild ideas.

It wasn’t a dream wedding – it was an organisational nightmare. But at least there were no beaches in South Tyrol. As long as she didn’t have to face constant reminders of her own stupidity while she planned and carried out this wedding, she could do what she always did: create an unforgettable day for her clients.

‘Roman,’ Lily chided her fiancé gently, ‘that’s starting to sound a bit ridiculous.’

Looking up, Sophie contradicted her with a sudden smile. ‘Not at all. I can think of at least three options off the top of my head. Let me find some photos for you.’

‘Great!’ Roman enthused, punctuating his eagerness with a kiss to Lily’s forehead.

‘Are you serious?’

She hadn’t yet earned Lily’s trust, but she was determined to do so. Taking down two of the many photo albums arranged alphabetically on the shelves, she opened the first to reveal a panorama shot of a bride and groom holding hands on the shore of a vast lake as sunlight rippled on the surface. Stones shimmered under the clear water in the foreground and in the background, looming green-and-grey mountains rose out of the water.

Lily drew in an excited breath that restored a measure of Sophie’s confidence.

Turning the page, she showed them a photo from the reception at a winery. Then she flipped back to the ceremony in the gardens of a villa, surrounded by trimmed hedges and palm trees, with a view of the lake, towering rock faces and a town of dappled clay roofs. Was it too much to hope that they’d change their minds and have a beautiful civil wedding in the villa?

‘This one’s not exactly “the beach”, it’s a large lake, but the area is very popular with windsurfers. If you’d like to look at?—’

‘It’s amazing,’ Lily said, tugging the album towards her as Sophie opened another.

‘Here we have Mediterranean beaches on Elba.’

Roman oohed and ahhed, but Lily was engrossed in the other album. ‘Look at these mountains – how high they must be. They come straight down into the water. Is this Lake Garda?’

Sophie nodded. ‘We have a hotel we often use in Limone sul Garda, but we have a long list of suppliers we’ve worked with that you could choose from.’

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