Read Online Laura's Locket by Tima Maria Lacoba - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Tima Maria Lacoba
Ads: Link
Beth said.
I shook my head. ‘No way!’ I had no intention of doing anything of the sort, but the prospect of meeting a hot Italian guy was exciting. I was on holidays, so why not have a little romance? The problem is my handicap. It’s not a physical one, more like a weird genetic anomaly—I age slowly, very slowly. At eighteen, in the prime of life, I hadn’t got my period yet. And, I was still a virgin . How embarrassing!
‘We’re here!’ Angie squealed. The train rounded another bend and began to slow. She leant her head further out, gripping her oversized, fur hat. ‘It’s so pretty.’
Clusters of red-roofed houses and three-to-four-storey buildings honeycombed the cliff side all the way to the sea. In the marina, only a few boats bobbed on the waves, large luxury yachts among them.
Beth and I tried to see past Angie, but the wind stung my eyes. I flopped back into my seat and threw on my jumper. ‘C’mon you guys, we’ll be there any minute. Better get your stuff together.’
‘Should we get a taxi or walk to the hotel?’ Angie’s voice sounded muffled as she struggled into her shocking-pink anorak.
‘No way we’re going to lose you in a crowd wearing that thing,’ I teased.
Angie laughed and dipped her knee in a mock curtsy. ‘No way, matey. Besides, it’s so this season.’
I rolled my eyes, but I admired Angie’s love of bright colours and her ability to wear them with such unabashed confidence.
‘Laura, you’ve got the map.’ Beth took charge. ‘How far’s the hotel from the station?’ She checked her reflection in the aisle window and adjusted her beret.
I retrieved the Lonely Planet Guidebook from my coat pocket. ‘Um… on here it looks really close; down the hill from the station. Fifteen to twenty minutes to the Piazza Tasso maybe?’
‘Okay, walk then?’ She turned to face us, eyebrows raised. We’d elected Beth as our unofficial leader, being the oldest. At nineteen she was already engaged to her long-time boyfriend, Ashley. She was even on the Pill.
Angie looked at me and shrugged. ‘Sure. We’ve been sitting for ages.’
She had a point. After the first twelve hours of the twenty-two hour flight from Sydney, the novelty had worn off and I couldn’t wait to land. At the Bangkok stopover, I practically ran from one end of the terminal to the other; not so much to catch our connecting flight, but for some exercise.
The train stopped, and we followed the other passengers along the platform. Heads down, faces concealed in scarves and bundled up against the cold, they dispersed leaving us staring at a sparsely populated square—the Piazza Angelina Lauro.
In less than fifteen minutes we stood before a set of tall, scrolled wrought-iron gates, behind which we glimpsed an imposing, terracotta-coloured building. The sign read: Grand Excelsior Vittoria Hotel.
It would be our home for the next three days.
* * *
Several hours later, we’d unpacked, napped and now sought food. It was dark, but the piazza teemed with people, their faces illuminated by the decorative street lanterns that swayed in the evening breeze. It was magical. The only drawback was the local boys who whistled and followed us down the street as if they had nothing better to do.
Angie and I giggled, but Beth shooed them away. I did my best to ignore them by looking in the shop windows, as we explored the old part of town, and putting my hands in my coat pockets when they tried to grab hold of them. My stomach grumbled in anticipation as the enticing aromas of cooked garlic and olive oil, interspersed with the sweet scent of lemoncello, wafted from each café and restaurant we passed.
One of the boys, with enticing brown eyes and his dark hair curling over his collar, approached me, whispered something in Italian, and kissed me full on the mouth. I pushed him back.
That’s when he appeared.
Tall, commanding
I shook my head. ‘No way!’ I had no intention of doing anything of the sort, but the prospect of meeting a hot Italian guy was exciting. I was on holidays, so why not have a little romance? The problem is my handicap. It’s not a physical one, more like a weird genetic anomaly—I age slowly, very slowly. At eighteen, in the prime of life, I hadn’t got my period yet. And, I was still a virgin . How embarrassing!
‘We’re here!’ Angie squealed. The train rounded another bend and began to slow. She leant her head further out, gripping her oversized, fur hat. ‘It’s so pretty.’
Clusters of red-roofed houses and three-to-four-storey buildings honeycombed the cliff side all the way to the sea. In the marina, only a few boats bobbed on the waves, large luxury yachts among them.
Beth and I tried to see past Angie, but the wind stung my eyes. I flopped back into my seat and threw on my jumper. ‘C’mon you guys, we’ll be there any minute. Better get your stuff together.’
‘Should we get a taxi or walk to the hotel?’ Angie’s voice sounded muffled as she struggled into her shocking-pink anorak.
‘No way we’re going to lose you in a crowd wearing that thing,’ I teased.
Angie laughed and dipped her knee in a mock curtsy. ‘No way, matey. Besides, it’s so this season.’
I rolled my eyes, but I admired Angie’s love of bright colours and her ability to wear them with such unabashed confidence.
‘Laura, you’ve got the map.’ Beth took charge. ‘How far’s the hotel from the station?’ She checked her reflection in the aisle window and adjusted her beret.
I retrieved the Lonely Planet Guidebook from my coat pocket. ‘Um… on here it looks really close; down the hill from the station. Fifteen to twenty minutes to the Piazza Tasso maybe?’
‘Okay, walk then?’ She turned to face us, eyebrows raised. We’d elected Beth as our unofficial leader, being the oldest. At nineteen she was already engaged to her long-time boyfriend, Ashley. She was even on the Pill.
Angie looked at me and shrugged. ‘Sure. We’ve been sitting for ages.’
She had a point. After the first twelve hours of the twenty-two hour flight from Sydney, the novelty had worn off and I couldn’t wait to land. At the Bangkok stopover, I practically ran from one end of the terminal to the other; not so much to catch our connecting flight, but for some exercise.
The train stopped, and we followed the other passengers along the platform. Heads down, faces concealed in scarves and bundled up against the cold, they dispersed leaving us staring at a sparsely populated square—the Piazza Angelina Lauro.
In less than fifteen minutes we stood before a set of tall, scrolled wrought-iron gates, behind which we glimpsed an imposing, terracotta-coloured building. The sign read: Grand Excelsior Vittoria Hotel.
It would be our home for the next three days.
* * *
Several hours later, we’d unpacked, napped and now sought food. It was dark, but the piazza teemed with people, their faces illuminated by the decorative street lanterns that swayed in the evening breeze. It was magical. The only drawback was the local boys who whistled and followed us down the street as if they had nothing better to do.
Angie and I giggled, but Beth shooed them away. I did my best to ignore them by looking in the shop windows, as we explored the old part of town, and putting my hands in my coat pockets when they tried to grab hold of them. My stomach grumbled in anticipation as the enticing aromas of cooked garlic and olive oil, interspersed with the sweet scent of lemoncello, wafted from each café and restaurant we passed.
One of the boys, with enticing brown eyes and his dark hair curling over his collar, approached me, whispered something in Italian, and kissed me full on the mouth. I pushed him back.
That’s when he appeared.
Tall, commanding
Similar Books
