David hands me a helmet, and I jump on the back. We drive off, speeding down the little cobbled streets and weaving through the tourists. To start off with we drive pretty slowly, but within a few minutes David seems to get the hang of it. Actually, he gets more than the hang of it; he?s really enjoying it. I can tell by the way he keeps speeding up and throwing back his head.
?Lean to your left!? David shouts at me as we approach a corner, and instead of slowing down, we whiz round the bend. It?s scary, but so exciting. I never thought I?d be doing this with David. I always thought he?d say that scooters are actually a bit dangerous really and maybe we should get a nice car instead. I hold on tightly and he takes his left hand off its handle to give my hand a squeeze.
Riding a Vespa is the coolest. Now I know how Audrey Hepburn felt. We weave through the streets, looking, I think, like a pretty cool couple. The wind is kind of blowing my skirt up round my legs, and I start to enjoy the appreciative looks I?m getting from people on the streets. I wish Nigel could see me now! I am the girl on the Vespa. Actually, I think I?m going to get a scooter when I get back to London. I mean, how cool would that be? I could drive it to work, to parties . . .
We go over a bump in the road and I yelp, clinging on tighter to David. How come he?s so good at this, I wonder. It?s like he?s ridden one for years. It?s strange. I thought if I went to Rome I?d find a whole new me waiting to get out, but actually I seem to have found a whole new David instead. The faster we go, the tighter I find myself holding on to him. And not just because it?s safer.
Finally we stop in front of the Spanish Steps and David pulls off his helmet. I suppose he is still the David I know and love; none of the Italians are bothering with helmets.
?Recognize this??
I look up at the tearoom David is pointing at. Caffe Greco. It couldn?t be, could it? Sure enough, we are at the very cafe where Audrey and Gregory began to fall in love inRoman Holiday . David offers me his hand and we go inside. It?s exactly the same as it was in the film?like something out of the 1920s. The seats are all in plush red velvet, and beautiful paintings adorn the walls.
?You want to sit outside, right??
I nod gratefully. We order Earl Grey and our waiter, a man in his fifties, brings us a plate full of scones, pastries, and croissants.
I?m feeling a bit windswept after our Vespa outing?even the safety helmet hasn?t stopped my hair getting all tangled at the back. I comb it with my fingers. This is Rome, after all, home of style. Matted hair is really not on at all.
?You know,? murmurs David, leaning in and kissing me on the ear, ?I know you really want to do the wholeRoman Holiday thing, but you don?t really have to have your hair cut, do you? I mean, Audrey?s hair was all long and straggly before she cut it all off, wasn?t it. Whereas your hair is quite beautiful the way it is.?
He pulls a few loose strands of my hair and tucks them behind my ear.
?I never knew you liked my hair,? I say, suddenly feeling shy.
?Darling, there is so much I like about you, I hardly know where to start.?
I look at David intently. Does he really mean it? Is he really serious about me? I mean, I?m pretty sure he loves me, but I never know if he sees me as a proper long-term girlfriend or not. Or, you know, wife material. And the thing is, I know that I?ve been flirting with Mike and everything, but looking at David now I don?t think Mike is really a patch on him. Okay, Mike may be very good-looking, but be doesn?t have a strong face like David. He doesn?t ooze confidence like David does. Plus, he?s incredibly selfish, while David is really generous. And I don?t trust Mike, whereas David is so utterly dependable.
?I?m so glad . . . so glad you are here,? I breathe. I want to say more. I want to ask him where he sees us in five years. I also want to come clean about the Mike thing?you know, to be honest and open. But I don?t; I?m not stupid enough to ruin this perfect moment.
Instead I put my fingers through David?s hair, and we plan out what we?re doing next. I pretend that I?ve already been to the Vatican. (My guidebook is extremely good. David is very impressed by my in-depth knowledge of all the frescos.) And when we finally finish all the delicious cakes and sweet things at the Caffe Greco, David takes me for a wander through the streets of Rome. I press my nose up against the window of shoe shops, marvel at statues and frescos, and tie a scarf that David buys for me round my neck. I don?t think I?ve ever been so happy.
By seven, we?re exhausted, and find a restaurant. Over swordfish and roasted vegetables I tell David about the fiascos at work, and he laughs when he hears about Nigel?s conference. I don?t understand it, I think, looking at David?s generous features and strong jaw. I?ve been going out with this man for ages, and yet today I?ve seen a side to him I?ve never seen before. Following me here, hiring a Vespa, sweeping me off my feet. I always thought David was so predictable. And yet I feel like I?m almost getting to know him all over again.
?It?s nice, being out, isn?t it?? I say.
?Lovely,? David agrees.
?I mean . . . I think we should go out more,? I say with conviction. ?You know, properly going out.?
David looks at me for a moment before speaking. ?I really have been a pain, haven?t I?? he says softly. ?Always working, too tired to take you out.?
I smile. To be honest, I think it could actually be my fault that we stay in most of the time. Don?t get me wrong; I love going out. It?s just that since I?ve been going out with David I?ve got lazy. I?ve got into the habit of scanning the television pages every week and refusing to go out when any of my favorite programs are on, which means pretty much every evening except Monday. I thought that David just wasn?t as exciting as Mike, but maybe it?s me who?s holding him back.
?You?re not a pain,? I smile. ?But you do have to work a lot. It must be great being here and not being worried that some client is going to call you any minute. Couldn?t you do this more often??
David half smiles and takes a slug of wine.
?Oh, you?d hate having me around all the time,? he says jokingly. ?I?m sure I?d cramp your style.?
?I mean it,? I persist. ?For once, you?re doing something just for me?I mean, you?re meant to be in Geneva and you came here instead. You don?t know how much that means to me.?
