The Italian Affair Read Online Free PDF Page A

coffee and a cigarette” he chuckled.
    Issy grabbed at the chance to talk to someone English especially as he had such a good taste in books. “Yes. That sounds great,” she said before adding “but only if we’ve got time?”
    “Yup” said Dan without checking his watch. “You’ll soon find out that nothing in Italy – and especially here in the South – starts on time. It just starts when it does. I’d say we’ve got loads of time before our induction starts, even though we haven‘t really if you see what I mean. But I’m desperate for a caffeine and nicotine fix so sod it let’s go. All the rules in this place are meant to be broken most of the time. It can be quite fun once you’ve got the hang of it.”
    Even after only a few words, it was clear that Dan was deliciously camp and looked and sounded like he lived by his own rules all of the time.
    Issy warmed to him immediately. She liked people who were different and weren’t afraid to show it.
    “I got here in late July to do some travelling,” Dan said casually as they both ran down the stone stairs together that led directly to a bar underneath. “And this place is even crazier than I am…which is saying something. Do you speak Italian?”
    “I don’t speak it that well,” replied Issy trying to keep up with him “but I can understand quite a bit of what’s being said as I studied Latin which I think helps a lot. What about you?”
    “Not brilliantly” Dan laughed, “but I’m getting there. I really want to speak fluently, so I try and spend my spare time with Italians rather than other English teachers and I buy a newspaper each day with the aim of reading one full article by the end of it with the help of my big Collins dictionary of course.”
    Eager to take up the olive branch of friendship, Issy laughed and picked up on the crazy theme and said “Naples is certainly different – I had no idea it was going to be so chaotic and the driving is nuts.”
    “I know,” Dan replied as they entered the small café under the school. “When I came in from the airport I thought I was almost certainly going to die before the end of the journey, but Gennaro assured me as I held onto one of his dried pigs legs that it’s safer to drive like a maniac in Naples than it is to drive normally. The logic being that no-one else drives carefully so you’d end up causing loads of accidents if you ever tried it!”
    “He told me the exact same thing,” Issy laughed as they were hit in the face with the all pervasive and seductive aroma of freshly ground dark rich Neapolitan coffee beans.
    Once inside the bar, Issy scanned the interior. It looked like an old-fashioned Italian café, with a long chrome bar behind which stood a short darkly tanned barista, wearing a white coat. He tended to his Gaggia (otherwise known as an Italian coffee machine) intently, whilst having an animated conversation with an older, fatter Neapolitan sat at the till in charge of the money.
    “I’ve always wondered why it’s called cappuccino,” Dan said as the barista sprinkled shaved chocolate on top of one he had just finished making for another customer.
    “Funny you should ask that as someone randomly told me why at university,” Issy said as they waited to be served.
    “Oh do tell me then darling,” Dan replied as he checked his hair in the mirror behind the bar which was lined with various bottles. “I love discovering new bits of information.”
    “Well interestingly,” Issy said. “It’s called cappuccino after an order of Friars called Capuchin because it’s the same colour as their habits.”
    “I would never have guessed that the answer could be traced to a monastery,” Dan laughed “but your news hasn’t put me off my morning fix even one tiny bit. And in addition to a coffee I think we should celebrate being here with a pastry. All we need to decide now is which one we should eat with our friar’s habit today?” Dan murmured as he surveyed the