Page 44 of The Start of Something Wonderful

‘Buongiorno, principessa!’ he says rising and pullingout a seat. ‘Cappuccino?’

‘Mmm, please,’ I say launching myself up onto the stool. I peer at the book lying on the table and rummage in my bag for my glasses –Italian for Beginners.

I shoot him a specky-four-eyes grin. He winks at me and disappears to the counter.

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Verbs

avere – to have

ho – I have

hai – you have

ha – he, she, it has

abbiamo – wehave

avete – you (pl.) have

hanno – they have

ho una bicicletta – I have a bicycle

Francesco sets down my coffee.

‘Grazie.’

As we talk, I dare to study his face close-up: aquiline nose, square jaw, deep-set eyes, teeth slightly out of kilter, dark, wavy hair, tinged with grey; not handsome, in a smooth, Johnny-Depp way, but more of a Tom-Hardy type – rugged, raw yet charming;the type of man who’d protect you in a street brawl …

‘Allora …’

‘What? Oh …’ I flip the book open again. ‘Ho una bicicletta.’

He shakes his head and fighting back a smirk, says, ‘No, no, no. The “h” is silent – like “o”. Ouna bicicletta.’

I slurp my cappuccino and repeat, ‘Ouna bicicletta.’

He fires me a bemused look over the rim of his coffee cup.

‘What?’ I say awkwardly.

He indicates my mouth. Is he making fun of me?

‘O - UNA - BICICLETTA,’ I repeat, louder this time.

He smiles, leans across the table, and gently wipes cappuccino froth from my top lip. His gaze is unflinching. My heart speeds up.

‘O una bicicletta,’ I say hurriedly, blushing madly.

‘Bravissimo!’ he exclaims, high-fiving me.

* * *

And so two afternoons a week I buy Francescocoffee and he teaches me Italian.

If I get stuck and break into English, he puts on his serious face and says, ‘Non è permesso.’

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