The morning sun streamed into the classroom casting a dazzling light and Bruno the teacher strode across to close the shutters. Flora watched his fluid movements and felt her heart beat loudly. She was sitting in the front row, her book open and her pencils at the ready. She sighed and gazed at Bruno.
This was the last day of the short summer course. It had been a gift from her mother for her birthday.
'Look Flora you need a fresh start, you need to get over that Daniel and stop wallowing and crying and do something for yourself. It's been a year now, and he really doesn't deserve any of your tears after what he did to you.'
If there had been a hint of impatience in her mother's tone Flora chose to ignore it and thanked her with an affectionate smile. 'I know, you're right, I know he's not coming back now. I just didn't see it coming. I feel so old and ugly and...' she stifled a sob.
Her mother had hugged her hard. 'I understand how much he hurt you, going off with your best friend like that but you've done really well not to become bitter and I'm really proud of you. Now I think the best medicine will be a change of scene and I would like to treat you to an exciting trip somewhere. You never had a gap year after uni and you work so hard. You need the trip of a lifetime. What about backpacking like your friends , the ones that went to Vietnam and Cambodia or America coast to coast or the Rocky Mountains or Japan or going to Australia on a farm?'
Flora couldn't help smiling at her mother's enthusiasm and her shoulders relaxed.
I know mum, you think I have an alter ego that travels the world with just a bikini and a pair of jeans but I'm a bit high maintenance which is probably what put Daniel off me. ' She sighed, 'I just wish he'd told me first.'
Her mother scoffed. 'You're not high maintenance at all, whatever that means, you and your new fangled expressions.' She waved a magazine in Flora's face and pointed to an advertisement.
'Look ! If you don't want to go travelling what about this course. You would just get a plane to Pisa or Florence and eat lots of lovely Italian food and make new friends. You'll love it and come back and use your sewing machine again and learn about textiles and patterns and have a new start.' Her mother paused for breath, 'go on Flora, a ttrip away, a change of scene and you'll be able to put things in perspective.'
That had been a couple of month's ago and now here she was on the course. Flora had indeed always loved sewing and knitting and embroidery. It had always been a hobby but now she was thinking of starting up a business making her own designs. She had been working from home for a solicitor for some years and now, as her mum kept repeating, she did really need a change.
She jumped as she realized Bruno was asking her a question and standing right in front of her. She gazed entranced at his shirt which was a deep denim blue her favourite colour. Bruno leant towards her and she glimpsed the writing on the inside of his collar, pure linen. His top button had come undone and she caught her breath. Something stirred inside her, memories of warm summer days by the river, the feel of grass on her bare legs, the humming of bees. She lifted her eyes to his face and their eyes locked.
He cleared his throat and stepped back. He turned and spoke loudly to the class,
'I was just asking Flora if this week she has felt her senses come alive? Do you all feel the sensuality of materials, textures, the quality of the colours, the patterns and the weaving techniques we have been talking about?'
Randi, an American from Atlanta sitting near Flora, nodded vigorously.
'Sure thing, I never wore anything but polyester before, and all my wardrobe's non-iron synthetics. I'm always gonna read the labels on clothes now.'
Randi turned to the tall Texan, Greg, sitting next to her and he nodded in agreement.
Bruno had flinched at the word 'polyester' and Flora stifled a giggle.
There was an outbreak of lively chatter. Bruno clapped his hands. 'Okay, coffee break now and then I will read out your essays.'
Flora stood up and found herself standing very close to Bruno, she caught her breath as he smiled at her, his warm brown eyes sparkling with kindness, 'May I offer you an espresso?'
They walked towards the bar area and Bruno ordered them two espressos and two brioches. Flora breathed in the rich warm smell of the coffee and bit into her brioche. She sighed with pleasure as she reached the cream inside.
Bruno downed his coffee and she felt him studying her, when he spoke it was like a caress. 'Flora I have watched you this week, you are opening like a flower in the spring.' Flora almost choked on the crumbs. 'You Italians,' She laughed, 'You are such charmers.' But part of her knew what he meant. She felt different. She felt more alive. She felt more aware.
They went back to the classroom and Bruno started to read out their essays. Randi's was all about the facts they had learned, about how silk is made from silkworms and they feed on mulberry leaves and silk from Tuscany is soft and shiny. Linen goes back from before the Romans and is ideal for the hot Italian summers and doesn't attract moths and bugs. Cashmere comes from goats in Mongolia and is considered a noble and precious material and, when combined with silk, is like gold and can regenerate your soul.
At these words Bruno paused and looked around the class. 'Well done Randi, I like this very much.'
He picked up the next one and it was all about life being like a tapestry and how important it is to make sure you use good quality threads to weave your life story, to put love in every stitch when you embroider or knit or sew, to empty your head of negative thoughts and make sure you purify your heart and treat materials with care and respect. About rich colours and vibrant prints and intriguing patterns. About the similarity between weaving a story every day and weaving threads to produce luxurious textures and materials. About making sure there was lightness and brightness in your threads.
There was silence in the room. Randi clapped and cooed 'Oh, I love it! Who wrote that? It's just darling.'
Bruno pointed at Flora and she felt her face go red. She stammered 'I was just repeating what Bruno said.'
A bell rang to end the lesson and Bruno spoke above the chatter that broke out. 'Remember, this evening there is going to be the Grand Gala. Just one bit of trivia for you as you get ready the evening, the word toilette comes from toile meaning linen and means a little piece of linen cloth which was used to put brushes and other things for personal hygiene.'
***
Flora was in her room getting ready for the Gala evening when Randi came in wearing a short, tight shiny silver dress. She twirled around in front of the mirror, 'Do you think is it too much? I really like that Greg, do you think I have a chance?'
Flora smiled at her 'You look gorgeous and I think Greg really likes you too. What do you think of my dress? I bought it for a special event with my ex, but things didn't work out. But it's such beautiful fabric and I feel really good in it'
Randi gasped, 'Oh my what a fool to pass you up Flora, you're beautiful!! Yes, you really do look amazing in that dress. It will bring you luck this evening, I can tell.' then she nudged Flora with her elbow, 'What about Bruno the teacher? The way he looks at you!!' Flora lowered her eyes and smoothed her dress, which glimmered with the golden threads woven in the fabric. 'He's very charming I must say.'
The two girls linked arms and walked to the ball room. At the sight of Randi, Greg rushed to her side and held out his arm which she grabbed and turned to wink at Flora.
Flora searched the room for Bruno and saw him coming towards her holding two glasses of Prosecco.
He was wearing a very smart dark blue suit and a crisp white shirt. She caught her breath and smiled at him as he held out a glass to her.
Bruno raised his glass to her and the warmth of his smile and his kind eyes made something shift inside her, some healing in her heart had taken place this week and now, standing here, she felt she could release all the hurt caused by Daniel's betrayal, a new beginning stirring within her.
Bruno touched her lightly on the arm, 'Your dress is beautiful Flora, the way it flows around you and follows your movements.' He stopped, embarrassed by his own words. He had been waiting all week for this moment when he was no longer the teacher and now he didn't know how to go forward. He had never felt like this before about a woman. He had watched Flora blossom in front of him over the past week. Part of him knew it had something to do with him, the magic hidden within the beautiful fabrics, and the way they can awaken senses and emotions ... He had never wanted a woman so much. He took a deep breath.
'Flora, if you have time to stay in Florence a little longer, I would love to show you my city. I have finished teaching for the summer now, I could show you the countryside and take you to meet my family in Fiesole and along the Arno and..' he was gabbling and then Flora reached up and kissed him firmly on the mouth.
'I have been wanting to do that all week, Bruno.' Flora whispered softly. 'As you told us today, life is full of threads that can be woven into beautiful patterns. Sometimes we have lose ends that need tidying up, sometimes we can start with a new colour, start a new pattern.' She stopped as Bruno pulled her closer and kissed her back with a passion which held the promise of a wonderful new beginning and maybe just maybe the trip of a lifetime.
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