The Postcard from Italy: Absolutely gripping and heartbreaking WW2 historical fiction by Angela Petch

Author:Angela Petch [Petch, Angela]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781800199620
Publisher: Bookouture
Published: 2022-03-15T16:00:00+00:00

Still feeling delicate – and knickerless beneath her jeans as she hadn’t the courage to knock on the downstairs flat to retrieve them – Susannah sat on the restaurant terrace with Giacomo and ate most of the surprisingly delicious spaghetti.

‘In England, it’s usually curry after a heavy night,’ she said, putting down her fork in surrender.

‘And which do you prefer?’

‘You have to understand this is all most unlike my usual behaviour, Giacomo. In fact, I lead a simple life back in Hastings.’

He smiled. ‘It’s good to be brought out of yourself once in a while.’

‘Yes, but not like this. I’m so embarrassed.’

‘What’s to be embarrassed about amongst friends?’ He got up and removed her plate. ‘Coffee?’

‘What I’d really love is a strong cup of builder’s tea.’

‘I can do that for you. I brought back tea leaves from England. Got into the habit of drinking it myself.’

‘You are a wonder-man, do you know that?’

‘Keep dishing out the compliments. I like them.’

She followed him into the kitchen and watched as he set a pan of water on the stove for tea. ‘You know, Susannah: what you told me about Mario. It won’t be the first time a straniera is seduced and it definitely won’t be the last. I’m afraid it’s a kind of sport for young Italian men, chasing foreign girls.’

‘I know that. Apart from the fact that he’s not a young Italian, I didn’t want it to be me: the foreign-girl-on-holiday cliché. I misjudged Mario totally and thought he genuinely liked me. And he reminded me of that Venetian guy who presents the TV programmes about Venice: same steel-grey hair, cheeky grin – a kind of anything-is-possible-if-you’re-with-me guy…’ She blushed as she thought about the possibilities that Mario had shown her in bed.

Giacomo frowned. ‘Not sure which TV guy you’re talking about, but I’m sure Mario does genuinely like you. What’s not to like?’ He handed her a cup. ‘Here’s your tea.’

‘Let’s change the subject, Giacomo. And… thank you for looking after me.’

‘My pleasure. By the way, you christened me with a new name last night. Jack is the new Giacomo.’

‘Did I really? Jack is less of a mouthful than Giacomo, but… I don’t remember much about last night.’

‘It’s what my English friends used to call me too. So, Jack I am. They used to say I was Jack the lad – whatever that meant.’

Her head sore, it was too difficult to explain. ‘Don’t think you’re a Jack the lad. Hope not. Couldn’t cope.’

‘Whatever! Listen – I can drop you back to the masseria this morning. I need to go that way to see one of my suppliers.’

‘Thank you so much. I kind of regret returning the car hire now. I didn’t think I needed it anymore. Jack, there’s something I want to show you when we get there.’

‘Oh yes. You did say something about a box. But I wondered if it was some kind of euphemism.’ He winked at her and she swiped him with a tea towel.

‘Don’t be ridiculous!

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