looked like an illuminated wedding cake. Over to her right, a couple were locked in each other’s arms, kissing. To the left, someone else was building a snowman. A few other people, drawn by the snow, were taking photographs and a woman in a full-length white faux-fur coat carried a dachshund in her arms as she made her way diagonally across the square and passed the Campanile before disappearing from view.
Didi pushed her hands into the pockets of her own rather less glamorous outfit, more of a knee-length padded anorak than a coat, but at least it was warm and waterproof. Having observed the energetic creator of the snowman for a couple of minutes, she found herself moving closer before realising with a jolt who it was.
Oh great. Instinctively she spun around, facing away and catching her breath whilst working out what to do next. A part of her was furious with Shay Mason for ruining this once-in-a-lifetime experience, because up until five seconds ago she’d been so blissfully wrapped up in the wonder of it, and now she was going to have to head back to the—
Whoomph! A snowball hit the ground just to the left of her, skidding past before disintegrating like powdered smoke.
Ha, not as clever as he thought he was. With an air of triumph, Didi turned and said, ‘Missed.’
Across the ten-metre distance separating them, Shay Mason called back, ‘I meant to miss.’
‘Of course you did.’
‘Don’t move,’ he ordered, reaching down to scoop up and swiftly pack together another snowball.
Didi stayed where she was, wondering if it was going to hit her in the chest. Like a fast bowler, Shay took aim and threw the snowball. The first had landed two feet to her left. This one landed two feet to the other side of her. Shay did a small bow, then broke into a grin. ‘If I’d wanted to get you, I could. But I’m a gentleman, so I wouldn’t do that.’
‘You’re never going to win a snowball fight.’ Didi found herself reluctantly smiling in return.
‘I’m a lover, not a fighter.’ He paused, then shook his head. ‘That’s probably the wrong thing to say. All I really want to do is finish building this snowman. You could give me a hand if you like.’
‘Could I?’
His eyes were bright. ‘You can even sing.’
‘Oh dear,’ said Didi. ‘You had to go there.’
‘I was only teasing earlier.’ The grin broadened. ‘You have the voice of an angel.’
‘The voice of an angel who sometimes sings off-key. It’s OK, I know it’s not always great. I just love doing it anyway.’
He tilted his head. ‘So are you going to stay and give me a hand?’
‘May as well.’ Snowflakes were landing on his hair and lashes, settling on the shoulders of his navy jacket. ‘Seems like you could do with some help from an expert.’
It took them a good thirty minutes, but at last their snowman was completed and looking magnificent. Standing five feet high, with twenty-cent coins for eyes, an abandoned stripy scarf wrapped around his neck and Didi’s yellow bobble hat providing the finishing touch, he wore a jaunty smile fashioned from discarded bottle caps.
A group of Spanish tourists applauded their efforts and offered them a swig from their bottle of Prosecco. Spotting another unopened bottle protruding from the overcoat pocket of one of the men, Shay asked in broken Spanish if he could buy it and offered him a twenty-euro note.
When the Spaniards had left, they collected two chairs from the dozens laid out in front of the café behind them and planted them next to their magnificent creation. As the snowflakes continued to tumble helter-skelter, Shay removed the wire cage from around the bottle’s cork and passed it to Didi, who used it to give their snowman a nose. He popped the cork and they took it in turns to drink from the bottle before setting it down in the snow between them. Then together they sat back, side by side, to properly take in the beauty of their surroundings.
‘So here we are.’ Shay’s bare fingers were loosely clasped as they rested on his chest. ‘I know your name and I know where you live, but not much more than that. Why don’t you tell me something fascinating about you?’
Didi considered the question. They both lived in Elliscombe and were in their last year at school, but the social circles they moved in were entirely different and seldom overlapped. She and Layla attended Stonebank Hall, several miles