Page 49 of Livia in Rome
My heart skips a beat. The way he says my full name – low, teasing – hooks into something deep inside me. His tone is playful, but there’s something else too, something that makes the buzzing street around us blur. After all the wondering, all the tension, the relief of seeing him here, knowing he wasn’t with someone else – it’s almost too much.
‘Flaminia came to see the bike the other day, but she lives out in the suburbs. With the strike, shecouldn’t make it back to pick it up. And we needed the money today. She would have given me a lift, but she was already late for her summer job.’
A collective groan goes up around us, pulling us back to reality.
Harsh reality.
Ma and Signora Pedretti have finished the count.
‘We’re still fifteen hundred euros short,’ Signora Pedretti announces, her voice cracking with disappointment.
A wave of crushing defeat rolls over me. It’s not enough. Giulio’s tan pales to ash. He sold his Vespa – his most prized possession – and it still wasn’t enough.
Bertolli runs a finger along the crisp fold of a thick brown envelope before handing it to Ma. It’s real. This is it. The repossession order. ‘What a shame. This place has such...history. Now, as per the agreement, the bank will be taking possession of the bar. You can stay tonight and clear your things out tomorrow.’
Ren is standing in the doorway, his hands clenched into fists, and I see Kenzi and Sofia on the edge of the crowd, their faces taut with the same frustration and helplessness I’m feeling. It’s like we’re stuck in slow motion, watching everything slip away.
And then, just as Bertolli turns to leave, there’s yet another commotion at the end of the street. It’salmost absurd how people keep showing up tonight – first Bertolli, then Giulio.
But it’s only a taxi, the driver complaining that our fundraiser has blocked the road...only, a wheelchair is being lowered from the back of the vehicle.
Nina!’
‘Mamma!’
Ma and I rush down to the fountain, where Nina is sitting ramrod-straight in her wheelchair. Her leg cast is mostly hidden by a long, pleated skirt, and she’s wearing a silky red blouse with a single wedge heel on her good foot.
‘What are you doing here?’ Ma looks at Nina as if she’s lost her mind. ‘You should—’
‘Tsss!’Nina hisses through her teeth. ‘I knew something was going on when no one brought me lunch today.’
I sense Giulio at my shoulder before I see him, and we share a silent message. Nina hasn’t discharged herself from hospital...for food, has she?
‘I got one of the nurses to do a little digging,’ Nina continues, swivelling her chair towards the near-empty stalls and overflowing bins. ‘I know what you’ve been doing, Livia.’
I gulp as she beckons me closer.
And closer.
Then, when I’m right in front of her, she reaches for my hand and pulls me down until we are Roman nose to Roman nose – her intense espresso eyes look straight into mine as she clasps my face...and kisses me.
She. Kisses. Me.
My chest heaves and I swallow a sob as the kiss becomes a tight embrace and she whispers, ‘I’m so proud of you.’
I taste a salty tear at the corner of my mouth. ‘Don’t...I messed up. We didn’t make it and I spent the takings and we promised to give the donations to charity if we failed and Giulio sold—’
‘Tsss!’Nina hisses again, pulling back to wipe my tears with the pads of her thumbs. ‘I’m here now. And we’re not done yet.’
Chin held high, she wheels herself right up to Bertolli. ‘You think you can take my bar?’
Bertolli scoffs. ‘Unless you have fifteen hundred euros stashed in that wheelchair, I’m afraid there’s not a thing you can do.’
‘We’ll see about that.’ Nina spins herself around and joins the musicians who are watching the drama unfold with everyone else. A moment later, she has the singer’s microphone in her hand.
‘I never thought I’d have to ask strangers for help,’she says, over a screech of feedback. ‘But my bar is my heart. It’s been my life’s work – a place where I’ve met friends, shared stories and kept my family’s legacy alive. It’s where I raised my daughter...’
She searches the crowd for Ma, who’s smearing her eye make-up with a soggy tissue.
