Chasing Daisy

was only taking a break for a few days.’
    ‘I couldn’t be sure of that. I couldn’t take the risk.’
    ‘I’m surprised you’d care that much.’
    He looks up suddenly and stares straight into my eyes. ‘I need you more than you think.’
    My heart does something funny and it dawns on me at that moment that maybe I need him, too. I know I need him to be right again, and if he thinks I can help, then I’ll consider that my job for the time being.
    Nonna comes into the room. ‘Here you go,’ she says, handing coffee cups to each of us.
    ‘So when are you going to have that shave?’ I give Luis an amused look.
    He shrugs. ‘Sometime before the next race. I was quite liking my beardy look.’
    ‘I bet Simon hates it.’
    ‘Simon’s not my biggest fan at the moment, anyway.’
    ‘So I’ve heard.’
    He takes a sip of his coffee.
    ‘What’s this?’ Nonna asks. I fill her in about Luis’s promise to shave off his beard and she stands up and hurries out of the room with determination. Luis and I look after her, curiously. She returns a minute later with a small bag and hands it to Luis. He opens it and pulls out an old-fashioned razor and shaving brush.
    ‘Carlo’s,’ Nonna tells me. ‘They were my husband’s,’ she says to Luis.
    ‘Er, thanks,’ he replies, lifting up the blade and inspecting it. ‘I’m, um, not sure I’ll know how to use this. I usually use an electric one,’ he explains to Nonna. I translate.
    ‘Give them to me,’ she urges, and Luis hands them over. ‘I’ll do it for you.’
    ‘What, now ?’ he asks, disconcerted.
    ‘Yes, now,’ Nonna replies, standing up and pointing in the direction of the bathroom. ‘Time for a fresh start. You wait here,’ Nonna tells me. ‘Not enough room. Come.’ She holds her hand down to Luis, who reluctantly takes it and follows her, shooting a worried look at me over his shoulder. I stifle a giggle. Ten minutes later, Nonna produces a clean-shaven Luis.
    ‘Wow,’ I say, as he jokingly rubs his face. ‘No cuts?’
    ‘Not a single one.’ He grins and sits back down on the sofa. ‘Thank you,’ he says to Nonna.
    ‘You’re welcome,’ she replies in English, with wry amusement.
    Luis sighs. ‘I guess I should be getting off.’
    ‘Off? Where is he going?’ Nonna asks me in Italian.
    ‘I have to get back to Milan,’ Luis explains, and I translate.
    ‘You can’t drive in this weather. No. You stay on sofa,’ Nonna says, as I experience a feeling of déjà vu.
    ‘No, honestly, I’ll be fine,’ Luis assures her, making to stand up.
    ‘Absolutely not!’ she insists. ‘This storm is too fierce!’ A loud crack of thunder helpfully illustrates her point.
    ‘I’m a racing driver.’ Luis grins. ‘I’m used to driving in tough conditions.’
    ‘Tell him to wipe that smile off his face.’ Nonna’s tone is ferocious. She glares at Luis. ‘My husband, he died on these roads!’
    I stare at my grandmother through narrowed eyes as Luis looks shamefaced. ‘I’m so sorry.’
    ‘I’ll be back with the bedding.’ She bustles off.
    ‘Sorry about that,’ I say to Luis. ‘But you may as well sleep here and set off in the morning.’
    ‘Will you come back to Milan with me?’ he asks hopefully.
    ‘No,’ I reply. ‘I’d like to spend some time with Nonna. But I will come back. I promise.’
    He relaxes back into the sofa as she re-enters the room with sheets and blankets.
    ‘Just leave them there, Nonna, I’ll do it,’ I say.
    ‘Fine. I’m off to listen to my radio show,’ Nonna replies. ‘Good night!’ she calls as she hurries off.
    ‘I’m going to head off to bed, too,’ I say, sadly recalling my evening here with Will.
    ‘Okay,’ Luis answers. He helps me make up the sofa and then climbs under the covers.
    ‘Well done on your podium result,’ I say, standing by the door.
    ‘Thanks, bun tart.’
    He leaves early the next morning, but not before Nonna has persuaded him to eat some breakfast. The storm has passed, although it’s still overcast. We wave him off from the door as he pulls his rental car out of the lane onto the main mountain road, tooting the horn as he goes.
    I follow Nonna back inside, still dumbfounded that he came all this way for me. We sit at the kitchen table and I sip at my coffee.
    ‘I like that one,’ she says after a moment.
    ‘Luis?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘More than Will?’ I can’t help but ask.
    ‘Not more. They’re very different. He likes you.’
    ‘Will liked