A Villain for Christmas (The Holyoake Christmas Series, Book 2)

Riding into the Sunset

Billie could see now why Dair was adamant to get away from the cinema world. The whole Our Mutual Friend vibe was most distasteful.

"It's for the best, Sybil," Aunt Hazel went on. She once again glanced at Delia, and the latter gave her an encouraging nod. "We'd had a better look into Federico's lineage and his star alignments, and it turned out he couldn't possibly be the Man!" The older woman inhaled and announced dramatically, "The Cerretellis only have sons!"

Billie's hand with a spoon full of sugar stopped above her builder's.

What the sagan?!

"Alright, all the witchy nonsense aside," she said and finally plunged the utensil into her cuppa, "Cerretelli is his Mother's surname. Clearly, there was at least one girl in that family."

"She's a miracle baby," Delia cut in. "We've contacted our Tuscany colleagues. They have a record of a ritual performed under the Oak of the Witches near Lucca. It's also called Pinoccio's Oak. So, you see, Sybil, he can't possibly be the Man. With me being ace, and Phee's endometriosis, we can't risk it. We can't know for sure if the Oak's magic could overpower his family's curse."

Billie snorted into her brew that she was nonchalantly drinking. In the last week and a half she'd had quite a few revelations; and the idea that men weren't that bad as a collective, was one of them. Would having a son - Dair's son - be that much of a curse, really? She was asking purely theoretically, obviously. 

"He's also got a sister, Paloma," Billie brought up her last argument.

She wasn't sure why she was even discussing it with her family, to think of it. It's not like she was planning to take their opinion into consideration.

"She's a trans woman," Delia answered sharply. "We googled her."

Billie once again told herself that she was being a bad ragazza to Federico Cerretelli. She needed to do her research! 

More so, she might even force herself to watch a film of his - or even two! She wouldn't manage one of those preposterous blockbusters, but surely she could survive two hours of nonsense for the sake of seeing him fight with a giant sword or ride a horse. She'd appreciated the view of him chopping wood! She could just block out the plot and the dialogue, and ogle the man.

"I'm not arguing that she is a woman," Delia added, "but not at birth. Again, we can't take this risk, Sybil!"

Billie thought of his soft locks, the warm rumbly noises he made, and his funnily ticklish sides; shrugged; and took her tea and a plate of biscuits to her extension. She had a mystery to solve.

It's not that she needed another reason to, in the words of Federico Cerretelli, 'put her every effort in' - but this profound, well overdue rebellion against her family was just the cherry on the cake of her upcoming dalliances with a fit half-Italian totty!

***

While consuming her treats, she picked up the project proposal for Monte Cristo.

On the later pages, she found quite a few of bright-coloured post-its. Billie could deduce the author of the notes based on the hardly legible nature of the letters and an occasional inverted digit, just like on the card that Dair had left for her.

It was when she ran into the fourth alternative spelling of the words 'Monte Cristo,' it finally dawned on her.

"Oh Mr. Holmes," she exhaled. "I'm such an idiot!"

Dair's tender murmur echoed in her mind. "And you were c-cute. N-not an idiot, cara. Never an idiot."

She shuffled the digits in the number that he'd written down for her, based on the jumble algorithm; and dialled. She'd always been great at anagrams, after all. There was a reason why her family had refused to play Scrabble and Boggle with her since she was six.

The first and the third number she dialled were non-operational. The second sent her to a voicemail of someone named Lucia. The fifth and sixth were wrong too; and she managed to apologise in broken Italian, reading the words off the screen of her laptop. The seventh and the eighth were once again non-existent.

Her caller number nine said 'Pronto!' - and Billie jumped to her feet.

"Hi," she exhaled. "Federico?"

"Amore." His velvet baritone wrapped around the word.

Billie laughed happily, though rather shakily.

"Hi," she repeated shyly. "May I, please, come to Rome and stay with you?"

***

On the plane she watched two thirds of his latest film; deemed her duty as his paramour fulfilled; and with a satisfied sigh, took out the P&P edition he'd given her.

She couldn't focus on the familiar lines, however; the events of the past fourteen hours bouncing in her mind.

A talk with Bondarenko. A talk with Yolanda. A talk with Jackie. To summarise, a lot of talking in a very short period of time. Billie was lucky that pretty much the whole population and every visitor to Fleckney had attended the Fashion Show.

Bondarenko had dismissed her. Yola had congratulated her. Jackie had congratulated Billie as well, and promised to keep her in the loop regarding Monte Cristo.

Billie had escaped the Show mid-way and rushed back to Crow's Vespers to pack. She'd gone through her whole wardrobe; had a melt down; and then pulled herself together and resumed her labours. The fact that they were only spending one night in Rome and then travelling to Lucca to his family for Christmas, wasn't helping. She was going to meet Esther Spruce and Rhys T. Holyoake! 

Billie had to remind herself several times that she - and Dair - liked her 'shape' - and that was the only thing that mattered. Plus, she could always make a quick stop somewhere to get better clothes if she wanted. She had a stylish Italian celebrity to ask for advice, if she chose to. She was going to be fine.

She'd left a note for her Aunts and sisters on the kitchen table. Ever since she'd read The Exploits of Moominpappa at the age of six, she'd dreamt of doing just that. She only regretted that she couldn't quote the book and use the best post scriptum in the history of world literature: 'P.S I'm taking a pot of pumpkin mash with me.'

She'd half-napped on the train, half-breathed through another meltdown; caught her flight - and here she was.

She spotted him lingering at the back of the Arrival area. He was probably trying to avoid being recognised; hence, the sunglasses and the baseball cap. If only he wasn't towering over pretty much everyone! He lifted his eyes from his phone, and Billie grinned.

He rushed forward; so did Billie.

Look, Billie! This is not one of your books! This is your life! 

And it's glorious!

He scooped and lifted her, and Billie burst into laughter. He was twirling her; and then he was kissing her, and that made her head spin even more that the twirling. One of his forearms was supporting her under her backside; his massive palm was cradling the back of her head; and people were probably staring; and she couldn't care less!

"W-welcome to Italy, polpetta."

THE END