Luca is a history professor at a prestigious university.
You’d think with his education, there might be something he’d come across that might warn him of the folly of careless words.
But, alas, apparently not.
So this year, for the sake of our marriage, I devised Operation Valentine.
For the last month, I’ve been dropping hints about spa days.
I’ve scattered spa brochures around the house.
I’ve repeatedly left the computer browser showing the webpage of our local health spa, and I’ve talked a lot about the pressures of modern life and the benefits of aromatherapy and massage.
Unfortunately, I realised I’d maybe gone too far with this strategy when my daughter phoned me from work in a panic.
“Mum, is everything OK?” she asked, her voice full of concern.
“Yes, of course,” I answered, mystified. “Why ever wouldn’t it be?”
“Dad messaged me,” she explained.
“He thinks you’re stressed and taking on too much at work.
“He’s even wondering if you’re about to have a breakdown.
“Can I help? I can visit tomorrow for a couple of days if you want.”
Ella lives four hours away by the coast.
She has a job in a bank, two young children and a new puppy.
She must be worried about me to consider dropping everything.
It’s at this point, I must admit, I did have a qualm or two about my plan.
However, at least my message was getting through, and Luca was finally catching on.
All I needed now was for him to arrive at the right solution.
Once I’d stopped laughing and explained all this to Ella, she was totally on board with Operation Valentine.
She even started dropping a few hints on my behalf.
Then last week, bingo! Luca asked when my days off were and if I had anything planned.
Success. Finally, I could relax.
He’d surely booked us a romantic spa day, I thought.
“Come on,” Luca says, jolting me back to the present.
“Your surprise. It’s outside.”
A twinge of unease uncurls inside me as I follow Luca on to the drive.
“What do you think?” he asks, grinning.
I stare around, confused.
“The car.” He points at my Mini. “Look closer.
“I’ve bought you spotlights and had winter tyres fitted. It’s been a bad winter.
“I worry about you driving home from work in the dark. You’ve been so stressed lately.
“Now you have one less thing to worry about, and doesn’t the car look sporty now?”
He carries on talking, but I zone out.
I don’t believe it.
He was trying to book the car into the garage, not book a surprise spa day.
I was so sure he’d got it right this year, I’m wearing my swimming costume under my clothes.
I’ve even packed an overnight bag just in case.
How could I have got it so wrong?
I smile and try to appear interested.
Oblivious, Luca is still excitedly talking about stripes, spotlights and wheels.
“Come on, let’s jump in and go for a ride.
“I can explain about the tyres,” Luca enthuses. “And don’t worry about the cost.
“It’s worth it to keep you safe.”
“What do you think?” Luca asks as we head out of town on the dual carriageway.
“Doesn’t it feel like the car is hugging the road?”
He presses his foot on the accelerator, demonstrating how safe we are.
“You’ll feel much better driving in dangerous conditions.”
“Slow down,” I say automatically, even though he’s driving way under the speed limit.
However, ending up in A and E wearing my swimming costume is not on my to-do list.
I glance over at my lovely husband, wanting to laugh.
He’s so earnest, and I know he means well.
You see, we’ve been here before.
This is another thoughtful, if misguided, gift.
The tyres will make the car safer, just like the cordless vacuum was such a great time saver and the slow cooker so useful.
Also, I had to agree he was right in the end – the surprise trip to the World Cup final was an experience of a lifetime.
Yes, Luca’s heart is in the right place, even if his head is in the clouds.
Luckily, he’s considerate and caring in a hundred small ways throughout the year.
He brings me coffee in the mornings, presents me with bunches of flowers from the garden for no reason, and always supports my hopes and dreams.
He doesn’t always get everything right, but he’s a keeper, my Luca.
We’ve had an interesting marriage.
Things haven’t always been plain sailing, but so far, we’ve always managed to pull through together.
He’s the same handsome man I fell in love with.
Only now, his sideburns are peppered with grey, and he has a few laughter lines.
But I’ve also changed throughout the seasons of our marriage.
Every year, I have to work a little harder to fit in my jeans.
My back sometimes aches and, as Luca helpfully pointed out last Valentine’s, these menopause years are challenging.
Yet, I know none of that matters, really.
We are blessed, and I console myself that at least Ella will understand when I message her later.
Hopefully, I’ll have rallied by then, and we can laugh about the whole thing.
We continue driving out of town, and Luca switches on the radio and starts singing along.
He’s so happy and pleased with himself that I don’t want to spoil our weekend by bursting his bubble.
We can still enjoy a nice day.
Maybe we could call in at the supermarket on the way home and buy a couple of steaks and a good bottle of wine?
Then perhaps rent a romantic movie?
“I’ll turn around here,” he says, pulling through a pair of elegant gates leading to goodness knows where.
“Luca!” I say, the panic spiralling inside me.
“This could be someone’s drive.
“Do a three-point turn.”
“Don’t worry,” he says, waving my concerns aside.
“There’ll be somewhere to turn around soon.”
I cringe as we head up the imposing drive, and a beautiful country house appears at the end of the treeline avenue.
“Turn here,” I hiss.
“They’re bound to have a CCTV camera.
“We’re trespassing. We’ll be arrested.”
Luca ignores me and pulls up outside the house.
“I know I messed up last year.”
He turns the engine off.
“However, I hope this Valentine’s will be one to remember for all the right reasons.”
I still don’t understand.
But then I see the discreet sign on the front of the building – Tunstall House Hotel and Spa.
It’s where all the celebrities go. It’s so exclusive I hadn’t even looked at their website.
“Is this all right?” he asks.
“I might not always get it spot on, but I can take a hint, particularly when Ella started going on about spas as well!”
Tears pool in my eyes and I fling my arms around him.
“I can’t believe it. Thank you.” I reach into my bag and pull out an envelope.
“Here, open your present.”
Looking apprehensive, he slides the card out and starts reading.
“A voucher,” he says, confused.
“For an Italian cookery course.”
“Yes.” I beam at him.
“So you can embrace your Italian roots.
“You’re not the only one who can take a hint. I know you’ve been missing going to Gianni’s.
“Now you can cook all our favourite meals at home.”
For a moment, the expression on his face makes me think I’ve made a terrible mistake.
Except, obviously, we can’t go back to the Italian restaurant, so this is the next best thing, surely?
“Thanks, Hannah.”
Luca smiles, but I notice that it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
It’s then I wonder if I don’t always get Luca’s presents quite right, either.
Like when I bought him a lawnmower when maybe he’d wanted a new golf bag.
Or that time I’d bought us a London theatre trip, and then he confessed he wasn’t really a sing-along musical kind of guy.
However, all my doubts disappear when he wraps his arms around me and kisses me.
“There’s one more surprise,” he says, jumping out of the car and retrieving our suitcase from the boot.
“We’re staying overnight.
“I’ve reserved a table in the restaurant for dinner.
“And don’t worry, I’ve packed your favourite dress for you to wear.”
I smile at him, a sense of doom descending on me.
What on earth has he packed in that suitcase?
I only have one decent swimsuit, the one I’m wearing.
Plus, I haven’t missed anything clothes-wise.
I have the most awful feeling my biggest surprise might be what I’ll be wearing for our romantic Valentine’s meal tonight.
“Thanks, Luca,” I say.
“I love you.
“I’m so grateful we chose to navigate this life together.”
I lean over and kiss him, happiness, laughter and disbelief fizzing inside me as everything falls into place.
Last week, we were reminiscing about our first Valentine’s Day together.
Luca told me he’d loved the dress I’d worn and was surprised when I admitted I’d kept it all these years.
With a sinking heart, I realise I will be sitting down to the grandest meal of my life wearing my old floral Laura Ashley dress from the 1990s.
My wonderful husband has done it again.
This Valentine’s Day is going to be another one to remember!
The End.
