old T-shirt and second-hand suede jacket. Despite the heat of the evening, he insisted on wearing it, like always.
‘You don’t think it’s some scam by the old man and we’re going to get mugged under the bridge.’
‘Mugged?’ I laugh, jerking my head¢€erking my Kead up. ‘By who?’
He gestures to the gondolier and does a mock-scary face.
‘You’re crazy,’ I giggle.
‘You say that now, but . . .’ He puts his mouth up close to my ear and whispers, ‘Have you never seen The Godfather?’ He draws a finger across his throat and makes a choking sound.
I crack up and punch him in the ribs.
‘Ow,’ he yelps, flopping back against the cushion. ‘That’s a mean left hook you’ve got there. I need to be careful.’ He grabs hold of my fist.
‘Uh-huh.’ I nod, meeting his eyes.
‘Very, very careful.’ He starts slowly uncurling my fingers, stretching out my palm and tracing the lines upon it with his fingertips.
I lie back, enjoying the sensation of his fingers brushing against mine, feeling the mood change, like a summer breeze. His touch is light, feathery, gentle, yet its effect upon me is like a thousand volts coursing through my veins. Now I know what people mean when they talk about electricity between two people. It’s as if someone has just plugged me straight into the mains. I feel alive. As if I spent the first nineteen years of my life asleep and it was only when I met Nate that I finally woke up.
‘Hey, can you hear that?’
Nate’s voice brings me back. His head is tilted, his eyes searching the air around him, a smile spreading slowly across his face.
‘What—’ I begin, but he puts a finger to my lips.
‘Ssh, listen.’
The warm evening air surrounds us with its pillow-softness, its scents of red wine and fresh pizza, cigarettes and aftershave, mingled with the sounds of music, voices, a woman in the apartment above us washing dishes . . .
And something else.
In the distance I can hear something. I listen closer. Is that . . .? Could that be . . .?
‘Bells,’ I whisper, feeling a sudden thrill. I glance back at Nate. His eyes are twinkling with excitement.
‘This is it.’ He grins and my stomach releases a cage of butterflies. ‘It’s happeningve, g.’
With the soft peal of bells being carried on the breeze, we glance up ahead to see the bridge. Arching majestically over the canal, it glows in the golden light, the white marble a blank canvas for the setting sun. Streaks of vermilion mixed with tinges of burnt umber and yellow ochre create a shimmering rainbow reflected in the water. We drift slowly towards it, both filled with anticipation, excitement, laughter, love . . .
Closer and closer . . .
And now the gondolier is falling into the shade and we are gliding slowly under the bridge. Inch by inch, by inch. We have only a few seconds. Our eyes lock. Our laughter falls silent. The joking stops. Everything stops.
In that split second everything slows right down. Like a movie gone into slow motion, the frame freezes. It’s just me and Nate. The two of us. The only people to exist in the whole wide world.
Two halves of one whole . . . Out of nowhere the old Italian’s voice pops into my head and I feel a shiver tingle all the way up my spine. You will have everlasting and eternal love. You will be together for ever and nothing will ever break you apart. As his words echo inside, the air suddenly turns cooler and goose bumps prickle my arms.
Something’s different. There’s an energy. A certainty. A powerful sensation all around me that I can’t describe. It feels like . . . like . . .
I look at Nate. He’s leaning towards me . . .The bells are chiming . . .The sky is blazing . . . and my breath is held so tight in my chest I feel as if I’m going to burst with the sheer exhilaration of the moment, of him pulling me close, of him telling me he loves me.
Magic. That’s what it feels like.
It feels like magic.
‘And?’
I snap back to see the barman standing stock still behind the bar, gripping the beer pumps as he waits anxiously.
A warm glow envelops me. ‘And we kissed,’ I reply simply.
It’s as if the whole bar has been holding its breath. All at once there’s a loud exhalation of giddy relief. There’s even a slight ripple of applause, and someone, somewhere