‘Ready!’ cried Stefano from the top of the ladder.
Elena handed him the string of tartan bunting. ‘Be careful.’
Meanwhile, Matteo was conducting sound checks and ironing out technical issues with Jamie and the band over Zoom, while Alfonso was laying out the shot glasses for the whisky tasting.
Lucy, looking oh so glam in hairnet and white coat, was in the kitchen, peeling the last of the tatties and neeps to accompany the haggis.
‘Here’s the final guest list,’ announced Valentina, bursting through the door, excitedly waving the printout.
‘How many more?’ asked Lucy mid-peel, hardly daring to ask, in case there wasn’t enough haggis to go round.
To say Lucy and Elena had underestimated the amount of interest their ceilidh would generate was putting it mildly. The website Valentina had designed with its timeless images of Scottish mists, hills and heather, accompanied by Clanadonia playing in thebackground, had caused a social media frenzy, while the boxes of promotional flyers they had delivered to the school, the factory, the pizzeria, the police station and the church had all been snatched within hours.
‘Don’t get me wrong,’ Lucy had said to Elena during their planning meeting, ‘I’m thrilled at the response, but…’
Elena poured her another glass of wine. ‘I understand why you don’t want the press there, Lucy, but it’s all over the net. It’s gone viral. There’s no avoiding it. Anyhow, we must make it clear that they can’t stop us. It’s the only way things will change.’
‘Yes, I know, but…’
‘I appreciate it attracts attention, but it’s good for business – not only for the factory and the teashop, but for your brother’s band as well.’
‘Sure,’ Lucy had conceded, flicking her pen back and forth, doing her best to smile. ‘It’s… it’s a good thing.’
On the way to the ceilidh, Dario and his fellow plainclothes officer found themselves behind a truck loaded with tomatoes.
Dario hit the accelerator and flicked on the blue light. His young protégé shot him a fleeting quizzical look.
‘What’s the hurry? Do you really think there’ll be trouble tonight?’
Dario shook his head. ‘I doubt it. But they are expecting around ninety guests – some outsiders. We need to get there before they arrive, just to check who’s coming in and out.Capito?’
‘Capito.’
‘Oh, and remind me of your main duty this evening…’
The officer shrugged his shoulders. ‘Dunno.’
‘If you’re to remain inconspicuous, then you have to join in with the Scottish dancing.’
‘Vaffanculo!’
‘Eh, no swearing on duty!’ Dario replied, taking a playful swipe at him.
As Lucy and Valentina diced and mashed the tatties and neeps in time to theRed Hot Chilli Pipers, Lucy couldn’t help but wonder what Giancarlo would have made of all of this.
As if reading her mind, Valentina turned to her and said, ‘My brother, he loved Scotland and would have been so happy…’ A huge tear sploshed into the pan.
Lucy threw down her knife and wrapped her arms around her.
Valentina sniffed. ‘Scusa.I try to be strong for the family, but sometimes…’
‘It’s okay,’ said Lucy, handing her a tissue. ‘It’s good to let it out. I can’t begin to know how it must feel.’
All at once the door swung open, to reveal a wobbly tower of pizza boxes.
‘Attenzione,Franco!’ cried Valentina, as he stumbled into the kitchen. ‘This way,’ she said, gently guiding him to the counter.
‘Mamma mia!’Franco wheezed, letting the boxes scatter hither and thither.
