Under a Siena Sun (Escape to Tuscany Book 1)

by T A Williams

  A very glamorous woman with a sumptuous mass of jet-black hair appeared and immediately draped herself over Bruno. Lucy’s eyes instinctively checked out her ring finger but here, too, there was nothing. Was this his wife who didn’t go in for jewellery or just a friend – a very affectionate friend? After giving Bruno a big kiss on the lips, the new arrival went round the table kissing the others on the cheeks until she reached Lucy. Daniela made the introductions.

  ‘Virginia, this is Lucy. She’s English and she’s one of my oldest friends from way back. Lucy, this is Virginia. She’s Bruno’s girlfriend.’

  ‘Ciao, Lucy.’ Virginia and Lucy shook hands and then Virginia slipped into the empty chair on the other side of her boyfriend and caught hold of his bicep with both hands. Proprietorially.

  Lucy reached for her glass and took a sip of wine. Somehow she wasn’t surprised that a good-looking doctor in his thirties was already taken. She had only been with Bruno for an hour or two tonight but she had been getting on so well with him, even if she no longer saw him in a romantic light. Seeing as he was pretty clearly hooked up with Virginia, this was for the best. She took another sip of wine and reflected that there would be other fish in the sea for her, although a handsome doctor was pretty high up the food chain and not to be found in large shoals. She set her glass down and looked across the table.

  ‘So what do you do, Virginia?’

  ‘I’m a hospital administrator.’ She had a local accent, like the others.

  ‘Virginia and I work in the same clinic,’ Bruno was quick to explain. ‘Her father’s the big boss.’

  ‘The owner.’ Virginia caught Lucy’s eye for a second and there was no missing the challenge. Lucy didn’t react, reminding herself that having a jealous woman across the table from her was far less daunting than having a two-metre-long, potentially deadly, black mamba slither over her foot.

  ‘Bruno’s been telling me about it. It sounds like a lovely place to work. Certainly a lot more civilised than my last place of work.’

  ‘And what do you do, Lucy?’ Now that the pecking order had been established, Virginia was also smiling now.

  ‘I’m a doctor… well, a surgeon actually.’

  They had an excellent dinner. The restaurant specialised in grilled meats and Lucy chose delicious lamb chops, accompanied by asparagus and roast potatoes seasoned with rosemary whose enticing aroma arrived before they did. The conversation, after the initial marking of her territory by Virginia, ran smoothly and Lucy and the others were soon reminiscing about the good times they had had together as kids growing up. For some reason Virginia seemed to disapprove of stories of practical jokes carried out by her boyfriend and did her best to keep returning the conversation to the present day. Pietro and Bruno, on the other hand, spent the evening recounting tall tales of adolescent mischief and Lucy had tears of laughter in her eyes.

  It was a great meal and a memorable evening and Lucy was sorry when it came to an end. It had been really good to catch up with old friends and even Virginia had mellowed as the night progressed and as she recognised that Lucy did not have designs on her man. They walked back to the cars together and as they said goodnight, Virginia even kissed Lucy on the cheeks, as did Bruno. As he did so, he told her how much he looked forward to seeing her again on Saturday at the wedding.

  Chapter 3

  Daniela and Pietro’s wedding went very well, although for Lucy it took an unexpected turn. The service was held in the local parish church in Poggio San Marco and the bride looked stunning in a simple but elegant white silk dress complete with veil. Everybody commented on how well she looked and how she positively glowed. Lucy was one of the very few to know that Daniela was now over three months pregnant and she had even dutifully held her friend’s hair this morning as she threw up in the toilet. Still, the service went ahead without any hiccups – or nausea – and the reception in a nearby hotel was perfect.

  It was another beautiful warm spring day and Lucy was wearing her recently purchased, smart summer dress. In her escape from Mabenta she had lost almost all her clothes – although in truth there hadn’t been much requirement for more than shorts, T-shirts or surgical scrubs while she was there – and she had spent an enjoyable day in Siena earlier in the week replenishing her wardrobe. This dress and shoes hadn’t been cheap in a town centre boutique, but she had money in the bank. Although the pay with MSF wasn’t fantastic, the trade-off was that there had been very few opportunities to spend it, and so she knew her savings account was healthy enough to support her for a year or more if she wanted, before having to return to work.

  As she stood at the back of the room and listened to the speeches, she reflected yet again on what she wanted to do. Being back in Italy felt very comfortable, so maybe she should look for a job over here, either with MSF or some other organisation. Although the nightmares were becoming less frequent, she knew she didn’t want to go anywhere too scary until she was once more back to normal. At the same time, there was no doubt in her mind that she had enjoyed working with people who so desperately needed her help and she wondered if a return to ‘ordinary’ medicine was what she wanted out of life. But before that decision had to be taken, she first had to come up with something to do over the next few weeks to avoid getting too bored while she enjoyed her period of R&R.

  Her reflections were interrupted by a voice at her ear. She turned her head and saw an unfamiliar face. It was a friendly-looking man with dark hair. He was probably around her age or just a little older, impeccably turned out and with the whitest teeth she had ever seen. They were very much on display as he treated her to a beaming smile.

  ‘Hi, I’m Tommaso, but everybody calls me Tommy.’ His accent was Tuscan, probably local. He was brimming with confidence and looked like the kind of man who knew his way around members of the other sex – or thought he did. ‘I work with Daniela and I’m covering for her while she and Pietro have their honeymoon. You must be her English friend.’

  Comprehension dawned. ‘Hi, Tommy. I’m Lucy. I remember Danni mentioned you.’ They shook hands. ‘How did you recognise me?’

  He grinned at her. ‘Daniela told me you were drop-dead gorgeous, so it was easy.’

  Lucy seriously doubted whether her friend had said anything of the sort, but it didn’t stop her blushing. It also confirmed her initial impression of Tommy as a player. ‘You journalists do have a tendency to exaggerate, don’t you?’

  He didn’t get a chance to respond as a burst of applause indicated that the speeches were over and the bride turned to the crowd and waved her bouquet of roses in the air. Unmarried women, from teenagers to pensioners, were pushed to the front and Lucy found herself among them. She gave Tommy a helpless look and went with the flow.

  Daniela caught Lucy’s eye before turning her back on them and lobbing the bouquet into the air, suspiciously in her direction. Lucy was still trying to work out whether to make a lunge for it when a purple flash blotted out the light and Lucy saw none other than Virginia leap athletically into the air right in front of her and grab the flowers as they fell. A cheer went up all round as Virginia collected herself, checked that her daring décolleté was still structurally sound after her exertions, and looked across towards Bruno with an expression of triumph on her face. However, he was on the phone and barely noticed her achievement, just giving her a little wave of the hand.

  Lucy gave them both a smile and headed across the room to where the Prosecco was being dispensed. She was standing there, sipping her wine, when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned to find it was Bruno, with Virginia clinging, limpet-like, to his arm.

  ‘Congratulations, Virginia. That was quite some leap you made there. Have you ever played volleyball?’

  Virginia contented herself with a shake of the head and a little smile as Bruno, to Lucy’s surprise, started talking shop. And not just any old shop.

  ‘Lucy, could we have a word with you?’

  He sounded unexpectedly serious and she immediat
ely nodded. ‘Of course, Bruno. What is it?’

  She saw him exchange glances with Virginia and then indicate the French windows that led to the charming formal gardens surrounding the hotel. ‘Would you mind if we go outside?’

  Together, the three of them walked out into the full heat of the sun and Lucy was glad she had gone for the lightest possible material for her new dress. Although it was still just May, it was really hot. As soon as he was satisfied that they were not being overheard, Bruno started.

  ‘You said you were a surgeon with experience of gunshot wounds, didn’t you?’ He didn’t wait for Lucy’s answering nod. ‘Well, you see… we would welcome your help.’

  ‘With a gunshot wound?’ Lucy was genuinely amazed. ‘Isn’t that something that should be handled by a major hospital? The police, even?’

  Virginia, now no longer smiling, took over. ‘Absolutely, under normal circumstances, but these aren’t normal circumstances. You see, it has to be kept very confidential.’

  For a moment an image of a nineteen-twenties gangster with a violin case in his hands crossed Lucy’s mind and she took a step backwards. ‘Not normal circumstances?’

  Her uncertainty must have been plain to see and Bruno was quick to explain in more detail. ‘It’s nothing criminal. I’ve just taken a call from the clinic. It’s one of our regular outpatients. He was at home, fiddling with his gun, and it went off, wounding him in the side – apparently not too seriously as he’s sitting up and talking. His housekeeper called us and they’re bringing him in as we speak. The thing is, we’d be grateful if somebody with more experience of gunshot wounds than we have could take a look at the extent of the damage and maybe be there to help me with the procedure.’

  Lucy nodded hesitantly. ‘Of course, but why all the secrecy?’

  Again the two of them exchanged glances. ‘He’s very well-known. Not just here, but all over the world. Although it was an accident, the publicity would be colossal. He’s very keen to avoid anything like that.’

  Lucy made a quick decision. ‘Of course I’ll help. I suppose that means we should go now, doesn’t it? I’ll just pop over and tell Danni. I’m sure she’ll understand.’ As Bruno nodded solemnly, she gave him a smile. ‘It’s just as well I’ve only had a small sip of Prosecco.’ Sometimes being a doctor could seriously interfere with your private life, but Lucy knew that was part of the fascination of her chosen profession.

  Virginia drove them to the clinic in record time. She was a good driver but she was going a hell of a lot faster than Lucy would have liked. As they screeched to a halt outside the hospital, Lucy barely had time to register that it was housed inside a charming and no doubt ancient Tuscan villa, and under other circumstances would have been delightful. As it was, she didn’t stop to admire it as they hurried up the steps and in through the main doors. Virginia disappeared through a door marked Private, while Bruno led her into the lift and down to the operating area in the basement, where a nurse was waiting for them. After scrubbing up and donning gloves, they went through into a very smart modern operating theatre.

  The patient was laid out on the table and as soon as she saw him, Lucy recognised him. It was none other than former tennis world champion, David Lorenzo, from the USA. Lucy had played a lot of tennis when she was younger and she was very familiar with his triumphant career over the past decade or more, although she had rather lost track of the whole tennis scene while in the depths of Africa. He was conscious and as he saw them, he even managed to hoist himself up onto his elbows, albeit with a grimace. Recognition appeared on his face as he saw Bruno.

  ‘Bruno, hi. Listen, I’ve done something very stupid.’ He sounded anxious, but under control.

  ‘Hello, David, don’t worry. We’ll sort you out.’ Lucy was mildly surprised to find that Bruno spoke unexpectedly fluent English. So far she had only ever heard him speak Italian. ‘This is my colleague, Doctor Young. She has a lot of experience of gunshot wounds and she’s going to take a look at you.’

  Lucy walked over to the table and set about examining him. There was a blood-soaked towel strapped to the left side of his chest, just below the ribcage. She asked the nurse to expose the wound and, as the bandages were being removed, she introduced herself.

  ‘Hi, my name’s Lucy Young. I gather you somehow managed to shoot yourself. How did you do that?’

  All she got back from him was a shake of the head. ‘I dropped it. It’s complicated. It was an accident.’ His American accent had been softened by years of international travel, but was still there. His eyes suddenly focused on her. ‘Are you sure you’re old enough to be a doctor? You’re not a medical student, are you?’

  Now, when you are thirty-five, it can be rather nice when somebody thinks you are ten years younger, but when you’re an experienced surgeon and your credentials are questioned, it’s a different matter. Consciously keeping her tone sweet – he had just shot himself after all – she replied.

  ‘Thanks for the compliment, Mr Lorenzo, but I’m older than you think and, don’t worry, I’m well qualified.’

  The nurse removed the blood-soaked towel and revealed the wound. Lucy’s first reaction was one of relief. Unlike so many wounds she had seen over the years, there was just a little blood oozing from a neat hole surrounded by the trademark burns associated with a bullet wound at close range. She went over and bent lower to inspect it more fully. She reached round his side and found the exit wound reassuringly close-by. She got him to roll to one side so she could examine it more closely and she was heartened by what she saw. It looked like the work of a relatively small calibre, high-velocity bullet and it had come out leaving an exit wound that was almost as neat as the entry wound. It had gone straight through him and, with any luck, it had done so without hitting any vital organs. She glanced up to see him staring down at the wound in morbid fascination.

  ‘Good news, Mr Lorenzo. It looks to me as though you haven’t done yourself too much damage. I think you’ve been very lucky.’

  ‘Me, lucky?’

  You didn’t need to be a qualified psychiatrist to hear the dejection in his voice. With all his success and all his millions, she wondered what he had to make him unhappy. Deciding to leave any consideration of his mental health to somebody else, she carried on in her most reassuring voice.

  ‘All we need to do now is to give you a scan to be sure there’s no serious internal damage and that it’s all clean in there and then we’ll sew you up again. You’ll be back on your feet in a day or two and as good as new in a few weeks.’

  There was no answer so she and Bruno headed back to the anteroom to change into surgical gowns and masks. As they did so, David Lorenzo was wheeled off for a CT scan before surgery could commence. The scan revealed nothing too sinister and it turned out to be a very quick routine operation, all over in less than half an hour. In deference to Bruno Lucy let him do most of the work while she kept a weather eye on his progress. She was pleased to see that he was very thorough and painstaking and his stitching was as good as she had ever seen. As the patient was wheeled away to a room to recover, she peeled off her mask and gloves and dropped them into the sack. As she was taking off her gown, she glanced across at Bruno, pleased to see the smile back on his face.

  ‘That was brilliant, Lucy. Thank you so much. As it turned out, it was no big deal, but I’m really grateful you were here to hold my hand. I’m sorry I spoiled your afternoon.’

  ‘You’re very welcome. Congratulations on your surgical skill – very impressive. And you didn’t spoil anything for me. If I’d stayed at the wedding, I’d probably just have been standing in a corner drinking too much Prosecco.’ She caught his eye. ‘Listen, as far as the whole gunshot thing’s concerned, back home in the UK we’d have to inform the police. I don’t know if the same applies here and I don’t want to know, all right? All I would say is I think you should keep an eye on Mr Lorenzo. He says it was an accident, but there was something about him, something in his eyes, that worries me. Can you
tell me what you’ve been treating him for?’

  Bruno nodded. ‘Two things: widespread damage to the torn cruciate ligaments in his left knee, and serious depression.’ He shrugged his shoulders. ‘The two are linked. We’ve operated on the ligament twice in an attempt to resolve the problem which wasn’t helped by a previous unsuccessful operation done in Paris almost three years ago, but with only limited success. It looks like his career’s over. That’s why he’s depressed.’

  Lucy nodded as she vaguely began to remember hearing something about this while she was in Africa. For a top-level sportsman to find himself invalided out of his chosen sport while still at the peak of his career must have been a bitter pill to swallow. Little wonder he was suffering from depression.

  ‘Thanks, Bruno, and you have my word none of this will go any further. But just keep an eye on him, would you? And I think it’d be a very good idea if you told his housekeeper to lose the gun.’

  Chapter 4

  Back at the wedding the first thing Lucy did was to hurry across to apologise to Daniela for having had to run off. On the way back in Virginia’s car – thankfully at a more sedate pace – they had concocted a story involving a very demanding British patient who had insisted upon speaking to a doctor in his own language. Daniela gave her a big smile and told her not to worry and the story appeared to be accepted by everybody. Pietro even did his unsuccessful best to wheedle the name of the fictitious patient out of her.

  Amazingly, they only missed the antipasti. All in all, their excursion to the clinic had only taken little over an hour and Lucy was able to take up her place at table number six just in time for the panzanella. This typical Tuscan dish had always been one of her favourites and she helped herself with relish. Served straight from the fridge, this was an aromatic mix of dry Tuscan bread, tomatoes, cucumber, lettuce, red onions and basil, all mixed together with extra virgin olive oil and red wine vinegar.