have discovered a new zest for life simply by allowing myself to enjoy the little things here in Rome. You should take a leaf out of my book and do the same. Take pleasure in the little things without feeling guilty for it. You love the details…take the time to discover them. It does wonders for your mood. I have been in a ridiculously good mood since I first stepped ashore and realised I needed this holiday. And it is addictive. Each new day, each new little thing to enjoy makes me happier. So far, I have not found a single thing I dislike about this city.’
‘Give it time, cara…you will. The heat in the summer, for instance, can be unbearable and brings out the worst in people. The roads outside the city are dreadful, making every journey a trial. Then there is the politics here…’ He rolled his eyes dramatically and she laughed at the horrified face he pulled. ‘It drains all the joy from your soul.’
‘Politics everywhere is draining.’
‘Indeed it is—but the Italian temperament suits it least of all, I think. So instead of sensible debate, reasoned arguments and compromise, all they do is shout over one another and gesticulate.’ He waved his cupped hand in the air in demonstration. ‘This becomes our main form of communication.’
‘I’ve seen them do that on the streets…’ She mimicked him, looking not the least bit Italian as she waved her hand in the air, because it was too reserved. Too English. ‘What does it mean?’
‘That basically the person gesticulating is angry.’ He stared at his hand in disgust, then threw up the other in a shrug. ‘Which only serves to make those around us angry as well.’
‘At least you Italians let it out. I think I should love to wave my arms about and throw a tantrum sometimes. In my country we are taught to keep anger inside. I am not sure that is a better solution than yours as it festers and only serves to make us more angry. We silently seethe and speak in over-polite clipped tones when we are offended. Like this…’ She sat straighter, still like a statue, and looked down her nose at him like a duchess. ‘Really. I see. If you must.’
‘No, thank you.’
She nodded enthusiastically at his attempt to mimic her accent. ‘Exactly. That is exactly what a furious English person would say.’
‘It is exactly what you said to me when I offered to scrub your back.’ He nudged her playfully beside him, enjoying reminding her that their relationship had not always been platonic and seeing her overly polite but flustered expression each time he did. ‘You look particularly lovely when you silently seethe, Lilian. I enjoyed your seething immensely.’ Then he grinned wolfishly at her stunned face and the little spots of colour on her beautifully pale English cheeks which he very much wanted to touch, despite knowing, if he did, he wouldn’t be able to stop. ‘Gracious, Lilian! Your advice works! Already my mood is brighter just thinking about how much I enjoyed that small pleasure—blessedly free of all the guilt at last.’
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