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The Italian Matchmaker(87)

By:Santa Montefiore


Luca walked through the big doors. The air was thick with incense, the candles twinkling through the gloom like small stars. When he couldn’t see Cosima he wandered around, looking in the little chapels built out to the sides of the main church where tea lights flickered on glittering altars of their own. It was only when he reached the nave that he saw her, at the back of the church adjacent to the altar, deep in discussion with the priest. They were sitting whispering, their heads together. Luca watched them for a while, not wanting to interrupt. He thought he caught the words London and England.

When she saw him, Cosima looked startled, said something to the priest then stood up. ‘Luca, can I introduce you to Father Filippo?’ She beckoned him over.

Father Filippo got to his feet and sandwiched Luca’s hand between his. ‘It is a pleasure to meet you, Luca,’ he said kindly. ‘Cosima has told me a lot about you.’

Luca didn’t know how to talk to a priest. ‘You have a beautiful church.’ It was a lame remark.

‘Thank you. We like it, don’t we, Cosima?’

‘It’s a place of great comfort and tranquillity,’ she replied, smiling at Luca.

‘I didn’t want to interrupt,’ he explained.

‘That’s all right, we’ve finished.’ Father Filippo turned to Cosima. ‘You’ll be okay?’

She nodded. ‘Thank you. Come, Luca, let’s go and have lunch.’

‘How did you know I was here?’ she asked as they walked back down the aisle.

‘Francesco showed me.’

‘Francesco?’

‘Yes, he was scaring a trio of old ladies by blowing in their faces. He pointed in here.’ Luca shrugged. ‘He’s proving quite useful.’

Cosima wanted to believe more than anything in the world but, while she couldn’t see Francesco herself, there remained a grain of doubt. ‘I wish I could hold him,’ she said softly.

‘He’s a spirit, Cosi. Not until you join him will you be able to hold him.’

They walked across the square in silence. Francesco had gone. The old ladies continued to gossip as if nothing had happened.

‘I want to believe you, I really do. But are you telling me what I want to hear to make me happy? Is this all a trick to make me fall in love with you?’

He was shocked that she could doubt him. ‘What have you and Father Filippo been talking about?’

‘Nothing!’ Tears welled in her eyes. ‘But why is it only you who can see him? Why can’t I?’

Luca held her upper arms. ‘I don’t know, Cosi. Please don’t doubt me like this. I wish I could prove it to you, but I can’t.’

‘Maybe Francesco could tell you something that only he and I know?’

‘He doesn’t tell me anything at all. He’s a little boy. He’s probably as confused as we are. Most likely it hasn’t even occurred to him. All he wants is to be close to you.’

‘And I want to be close to him.’ She looked around. ‘Where is he now?’

‘I can’t see him.’

‘You can’t see him? Why not? Why do you only see him when I’m not with you? If you really can see him, then get him here now and talk to him!’

Luca looked pained. ‘I can’t,’ he admitted. ‘This is all new to me, you know. I don’t know how it works either.’

Then he had a crazy idea. ‘Come!’ he instructed, taking her by the hand and dragging her across the square towards the old women. ‘We’ll ask them.’

‘They’ll think you’re mad.’

‘They can think what they like.’

The three women stopped talking and stared at them. Cosima winced with embarrassment while Luca introduced himself confidently. ‘Good afternoon, ladies,’ he said, bowing slightly. ‘My name is Luca Chancellor. I’m sorry to interrupt such a tranquil scene, and my question is more than a little strange.’ The three widows gazed up at him as if he were an alien. ‘Tell me, a little while ago did you all feel as if someone was blowing into your faces? I know it sounds odd, but it’s really important.’ The smallest began to chew on her gums while the fat one muttered something inaudible.

The third grinned, revealing a set of small yellow teeth. ‘So it was you!’ she chuckled. ‘If you weren’t so handsome I’d knock you down with my handbag!’

The smallest leaned forward to take a better look. ‘Was it you blowing on our faces? It’s very rude, you know.’

‘Promise you, it wasn’t me,’ he said, backing away. ‘It was a spirit, but my friend here doesn’t believe me.’