Alice was so nervous, she could hardly keep her hands steady to fasten the zip on her favourite black dress. She added strappy gold sandals with a belt to match, pinned up her hair, leaving some curly tendrils hanging loose, and inspected herself in the mirror. She felt happy with what she saw. Her skin was still lightly tanned from a recent walking holiday, and tonight she seemed to have a bloom that was nothing to do with make-up.
‘Calm down, woman,’ she told her reflection sternly. ‘You’re old enough to know better than to get into a state, just because an attractive Italian man pays you some attention.’
She hadn’t seen Roberto for a few days – he and his daughter Gabriella were visiting relatives in London and were due back tonight, New Year’s Eve.
Alice and some friends were joining them for a celebration dinner. They would be a happy crowd and everyone was looking forward to a relaxing evening.
Gabriella was the owner of a local Italian restaurant. A couple of years ago, she had approached Alice, who ran a delicatessen, and asked her to supply a range of Italian breads and pastries. It was a great opportunity for Alice and, since then, she had been kept so busy she had taken on an assistant, Frankie, who had fast become her right-hand man.
The weeks before Christmas had been a hectic whirl for them all. Alice had breathed a sigh of relief when Gabriella had announced that she was closing the restaurant for a couple of weeks after the festive rush, so she could spend some time with her father Roberto.
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