Tea and Sympathy by Cathy Bramley

Author:Cathy Bramley [Bramley, Cathy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Transworld
Published: 2017-05-30T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

Later that evening, Nonna and I shared our hotel bedroom’s little dressing table while we got ready to go out. I was trying to disguise my sunburned face with make-up and she was redoing her bun. Fifteen minutes ago she had been fast asleep after our busy day. But then the little gold alarm clock she’d brought with her from home had rung out and she’d woken up immediately and changed into a smart yellow dress.

‘My hair as black as coal when I was a girl, and even longer than this,’ said Nonna, setting her grips aside and brushing out her hair. ‘Always I left it down until I married Marco. He liked to pull it hard, so after that I keep it in a bun.’

I paused from patting concealer on to my nose and looked at the thick white hair tumbling over her shoulders. Her face was pink from the sunshine too and there was a sparkle in her eyes that had been missing for the last week. She might be an old lady now, but that girl was still there.

‘You should leave it down; it suits you, you look very youthful.’

She tilted her face from side to side and studied her reflection in the mirror. ‘Why not? Come on, let’s go.’

We stepped out of the hotel into the dusk. The evening air was warm and fragrant and the snowstorms of Derbyshire felt like a million miles away. We’d only been here twenty-four hours and already Sorrento felt like home.

We’d had a packed day. Our trip to the library revealed that Bar Salvatore had never been sold, and therefore had either gone out of business or was still in the family so we decided to try to go there for dinner tonight. Then at lunchtime, while we’d munched our way through slices of the most delicious pizza I’d ever tasted, Alba had called and invited Nonna for coffee before our flight home tomorrow. After that we spent the afternoon exploring. Nonna showed me around Piazza Tasso, Sorrento’s main square, and we’d done some shopping in the narrow cobbled streets which led from the magnificent cathedral. Nonna picked out a mug for Stanley with lemons on it and I bought some lemon-scented candles for Mum and a cookery book of traditional Sorrentine recipes for Lia. From there we’d peered into the lovely church of San Francesco with its tranquil Moorish-style cloisters and emerged into some pretty sculptured gardens edged with ornate railings.

‘The sea!’ I’d cried excitedly, pointing beyond the railings to the wide expanse of blue.

I’d taken my phone out and snapped away with the camera while Nonna pointed out the landmarks. To our far left was the little island of Capri, and to the right, around the bay, Vesuvius smouldered away in the distance, rising green and blue above the horizon with the sprawling city of Naples around its base. Directly below us was a bustling harbour teeming with life: bars, hotels and tavernas hugged the water’s edge, all with tables lined up facing the water.

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