by T A Williams
That sounded good to Lucy. She had been dreading discovering that her neighbours might turn out to be bagpipe aficionados or a bunch of rowdy teenagers. Hopefully there was a limit to the amount of disturbance a single academic could cause.
‘And how about the restaurant? I keep meaning to go there. Is it good?’
Margherita beamed at her. ‘It’s very good. People come up from Siena and even all the way from Florence to eat here, you know. You should try it.’
Just at that moment, Lucy’s phone rang. She apologised to Margherita and picked it up.
‘Ciao, Lucy. It’s me, Tommy.’
‘Ciao, Tommy. Good to hear from you.’ Although it wasn’t, really. She had been expecting a call to tell her where and when he was taking her for dinner. Since saying yes, she had been having serious second thoughts about having accepted, in case he might think it was going to be anything but a casual friendly evening together, but it was too late now to pull out. ‘Dinner on Wednesday night, I think we agreed?’
‘That’s right. I was wondering… have you been to the Cavallo Bianco just down the road from you yet?’
‘The Cavallo Bianco? You mean here in Castelnuovo? I’ve got a friend here at the moment and she’s just been talking about it.’
‘So, would that be all right?’
‘It would be super, thanks. I’ve been meaning to go there. My friend tells me it’s very good.’
‘You can judge for yourself. I like it a lot and I often eat there. My aunt and uncle own it.’
‘Well, well.’ Lucy remembered he had told her way back that he had relatives in the village. ‘That sounds great. Would you like to come here for a drink first and then we can walk down together?’
‘Terrific. Say, eight o’clock?’
When she rang off, she looked across the table at Margherita.
‘Now, that’s a coincidence.’ She went on to tell her what Tommy had revealed and saw comprehension on the older woman’s face.
‘So you’re going out for dinner with little Tommasino, fancy that.’ Adding the suffix –ino to a word in Italian acted as a diminutive and as Tommy was the best part of six feet tall, it seemed a bit of a misnomer, but presumably Margherita had known him since he was a baby and still thought of him as a toddler. ‘It was so sad what happened with him and his wife…’ Her voice tailed off sorrowfully and Lucy found herself undecided whether to ask or not. In the end she felt she had to know.
‘Did she die?’
‘No, she left him when he had an affair. And with a German woman of all people!’
‘Ah…’ Lucy couldn’t think of a follow-up to this but she filed the knowledge away for future reference. It sounded as though her first impression of Tommy had been right and he came from the same mould as Charles. She harrumphed to herself and wondered what sort of evening she was going to have on Wednesday.
Chapter 12
Tommy arrived bang on eight o’clock on Wednesday and Lucy gave him a glass of Prosecco as promised. Even up on the terrace it was a hot, clammy night as the end of July approached, so they stayed downstairs where the thick stone walls David Lorenzo had mentioned did an excellent job of keeping the temperature at an acceptable level. She told Tommy about her conversation with Margherita and he smiled at being referred to as Tommasino.
‘I was born in Siena, but we used to come here to see my uncle and aunt most weekends. I know Margherita very well – ever since I was tiny. They had the local farm and we kids used to play in the olive groves and we’d often see her. I can’t tell you how many glasses of home-made lemonade I’ve had from her. You heard about her son’s accident?’
Lucy nodded. ‘Yes, and all sorts of other stuff. She’s a walking encyclopaedia. I reckon I now know everything about everybody around here – and if I don’t, I know who to ask.’ She wondered if he would register that this might well include him and his German lady friend, but he gave no reaction.
The restaurant was almost full, even though it was mid-week, and this confirmed what Margherita had said about its good reputation. Tommy was greeted with kisses by his aunt who then gave Lucy an interested look as she shook her hand. Presumably this wasn’t the first time Tommy had brought a woman here for appraisal.
As they sat down, Lucy felt his knee rub against hers and she registered that it was remarkably hairy – surprising, seeing as he was wearing long trousers. A swift glance under the table revealed the culprit. A familiar-looking black dog had squeezed between them and was sitting at their feet, one paw scrabbling at Tommy’s knees. Instinctively, Lucy looked around to see if David Lorenzo was in the room, but couldn’t locate him.
‘Bella, come out!’ Tommy’s aunt gave Lucy an apologetic smile. ‘I’m sorry, she and Tommaso are old friends, so she’s always around him.’
As the dog reluctantly heeded the command to come out from under the table, Lucy registered that this Labrador was not Boris after all. The sensation of disappointment this induced in her reminded her of the little shivers of attraction she had been feeling in the tennis player’s company and she did her best to shrug off a feeling of regret – and guilt, seeing as he was a married man and she had strong views about that sort of thing. She gave Bella a pat on the head and turned her attention to the meal.
The menu was delivered verbally and she let Tommy and his aunt persuade her to try a starter of lightly fried artichoke hearts and courgette flowers. The combination of bright green and even brighter yellow on their plates looked alluring and the taste was excellent. After that they shared a hefty Florentine steak, cooked on a charcoal grill and sliced vertically into strips. Accompanied by a mixed salad consisting mainly of fresh tomatoes that smelt heavenly, it was an excellent meal. As they ate, Lucy did her best to keep the conversation away from anything too personal. The more she chatted to Tommy, the more convinced she became that nothing more than friendship was ever going to develop here.
Bella the Labrador came back partway through the meal – no doubt attracted by the smell of the grilled meat – and Lucy turned the subject to dogs.
‘I’m pretty sure I met Bella’s brother the other day. They’re the spitting image of each other.’
‘Who’s the owner?’ Tommy topped up her glass with the very drinkable local red wine, but she was deliberately going slow.
‘My landlord, the guy who owns the Villa Castelnuovo.’
He looked up with interest. ‘You’ve met the mystery man? Nobody around here’s ever seen him. Nobody even knows his name.’
Lucy grinned. ‘Margherita thinks he’s a New York gangster on the run.’
‘She’s not the only one. So, what’s he like? Do you know his name?’
Lucy reached for her glass and took a little sip to give herself time. She remembered that Tommy was a journalist, after all, so she decided to be economical with the truth.
‘Everything’s been done through Armando and the lawyer. As for meeting the mystery man, the closest I’ve got to him has been making friends with his dog.’ Seeing as Boris, unlike his master, had actually climbed onto her lap she felt she wasn’t being too duplicitous. She then went on to describe the time just after she had first moved in when Boris had followed her into her house and she had called Armando to come and collect him. She conveniently left out her chance meeting with David Lorenzo and the dog a few days ago. She didn’t like telling lies, but she felt she owed it to him to keep his secret. If he wanted to be invisible, she had no right to give him away – especially to a journalist.
It was a pleasant evening and the food was extremely good. Although Tommy insisted upon paying, from what she had seen of the prices on the specials board it wasn’t too expensive and she vowed to bring her parents here when they came over to visit in the autumn.
As they walked back up the road to her house, she debated how to break it to him that she wasn’t going to invite him in for a coffee. She had decided just to harden her heart and send him packing as politely as possible when they reached her door and he did
something she hadn’t been expecting. He reached out and shook her hand almost formally, before stepping back.
‘That was a lovely evening, Lucy. Thank you so much for your company.’
She was genuinely surprised that he was leaving without even an attempt to kiss her, and on such a formal note. Somehow she had been pretty sure she would have to fight him off. Still, she was relieved and she thanked him in her turn before watching as he climbed into his car and set off down the hill. She gave a little whistle of satisfaction that he had finally got the message.
The next day she met up with Daniela for an early evening aperitivo in the centre of Siena. They had arranged to meet at a little café in a side street just a stone’s throw from the Duomo. Every time Lucy walked past this wonderful marble-clad medieval building with its amazingly ornate façade covered in carvings and statues, and topped with a triangle of golden mosaic, she couldn’t resist stopping. This was something she had always done since she was a little girl. She would stare in awe at the intricacies of the decoration, always noticing something different she hadn’t spotted before. This evening she tried counting the animal sculptures, ranging from lion-headed gargoyles with wide open mouths that would spew rainwater onto the streets below, to bulls and horses supporting plinths bearing yet more statues. She hit thirty and was still counting when she glanced at her watch, realising she was late meeting up with Daniela, and hurried off. When she saw her she was quick to apologise.
‘Ciao, Danni, so sorry I’m a bit late. You know me and the Duomo.’ She hadn’t seen Daniela for a couple of weeks and this time she definitely noticed a change. ‘Wow, you’re looking seriously pregnant now.’ Her bump was quite pronounced. ‘How’s it all been going?’
Daniela had bagged a table outside in the shade of an awning and there was even a little breeze blowing up the narrow street that was no doubt very welcome to a pregnant lady. As Lucy sat down beside her, Daniela brought her up to speed on her condition. All was going well with the pregnancy, now in its sixth month. She was drinking ice-cold mineral water and continually mopping her brow, complaining of the heat. Lucy opted for the same and had to agree with her about the temperature.
‘This is almost equatorial heat today. If this was the Congo, we’d be in for a thunder storm and a torrential downpour.’ Thought of Africa reminded her once more of all the friends she had left behind over there and the uncertainty of their fate at the hands of the different warring factions. For them, rain was the least of their problems. She dismissed their faces from her mind with difficulty. ‘The fields around me at Castelnuovo badly need water and I certainly think we could do with a rainstorm to cool things down.’
‘You can say that again.’ Daniela fanned herself with the drinks menu and gave Lucy a little smile. ‘Anyway, how did your date with Tommy go? I asked him today but he was being unusually coy.’
‘It was a nice evening, and I’m pleased to say he appears to have realised that it wasn’t a date. He didn’t call it that, did he?’
‘Like I just told you, he hardly said anything. So, date or no date, how was it?’
Lucy told her about the restaurant, the great meal, the Labrador, and the hurried handshake at the end without her having to put up a struggle for her honour. Daniela’s smile broadened.
‘I wouldn’t be so sure. I think that means he thinks it was a date.’
‘What makes you say that?’
‘I didn’t want to put you off as he claims he’s turned over a new leaf recently, so I didn’t say anything in advance, but Tommy’s got a bit of a reputation. You know… with the ladies.’
‘My spies did tell me about his wife leaving him after he had an affair with a German woman.’
‘I’m impressed. You’ve managed to get into Castelnuovo society double-quick and the bush telegraph is working well. In fact, the German woman – who, by the way, was a very nice lady – was just the last straw that broke the camel’s back as far as Teresa, his wife, was concerned. He just couldn’t keep his hands off other women and that’s why she left him. Whether it’s true he’s a changed man now, I can’t say.’
Lucy nodded to herself. She had been expecting something like this. ‘So, if he’s some kind of serial womaniser – or at least used to be – why didn’t he try it on with me?’
‘Because he likes you. It means he likes you an awful lot and he didn’t want to risk frightening you off.’
‘You’re trying to tell me he didn’t try to kiss me, because he likes me too much?’
‘Pretty much. You wait. I’m prepared to bet you’ll get a call from him, but it won’t be immediately. I reckon he’s going to play it really cool.’ Daniela fanned herself some more. ‘Which is more than I feel.’
Lucy sighed inwardly. Whatever he had said to Daniela, her instincts were telling her that Tommy wasn’t to be trusted, so it looked like she had another few rounds in the ring with him still to fight. One thing was for sure; she could do without the attentions of another serial womaniser.
However, Daniela then turned the conversation to a subject that immediately commanded her full attention. Daniela had a problem – Pietro.
Lucy listened in disbelief as Daniela started to voice doubts about their relationship which had already lasted fifteen years or more.
‘I don’t think he finds me attractive any more, now that I’m pregnant.’ Daniela took off her sunglasses and Lucy noticed how red her eyes were. Had she been crying? She was quick to pour oil on the troubled waters.
‘Danni, this is Pietro you’re talking about. Of course he finds you attractive. You two are the most stable, loving couple I know.’ Seeing the empty look on her friend’s face, she tried again. ‘Why on earth should you think that?’
‘It’s just a feeling I’ve got. He sleeps on the far side of the bed and hardly even touches me, and he goes out every Thursday night. He told me he was taking a furniture repair course – he’s always been keen on carpentry – but the other night I was trying to contact him and he didn’t pick up, so I called the institute and they told me the course finished for the summer three or four weeks back.’
‘So where does he go on Thursday nights?’
‘That’s the thing – I don’t know.’
‘Haven’t you asked him?’
Daniela shook her head and Lucy saw the tears spring to her eyes. ‘I haven’t asked him because I suppose I’m scared of what the answer might be.’ She wiped the back of her hand across her face. ‘In less than three months’ time I’m having a baby. What if he goes off and leaves me? I’ll be all alone.’
‘He won’t leave you. Don’t be so silly. There has to be a simple explanation. Just talk to him. And as far as not touching you is concerned, he’s probably just worried for the baby.’
But, try as she might, Lucy couldn’t get through to her. Daniela steadfastly refused to bring up the subject with her husband for fear of getting the answer she dreaded. Lucy remained firmly convinced that there had to be a perfectly innocent explanation and in the end all she could do was to resolve to speak to Pietro herself, to see what was going on. Daniela was obviously – and quite normally – a bag of hormonal nerves at this point in her pregnancy and Lucy felt sure it would all turn out to be a big misunderstanding.
At least, she certainly hoped so.
Chapter 13
On Friday afternoon two things happened in swift succession. First, there was a text message from Tommy, asking if she felt like coming out with him the following evening. She was still mulling over how to tell him as nicely as possible that she didn’t want to when she almost bumped into the tall figure of the tennis player in one of the corridors of the clinic. She barely had time to register that he was walking better.
‘Hello, Mr Lorenzo. I’m glad to see you’re no longer limping.’
A little smile spread across his face and her heart gave an involuntary leap. ‘Hi, Doc. I’m feeling better.’
‘That’s great to hear. So the physio’s been paying off. I�
�m happy for you.’ And she was. ‘How’s your lovely dog?’
He was still smiling. ‘Boris is great, thanks. Hey, listen, I’ve been looking for you and I’m glad I caught you. This is my last day here at the clinic and I wanted to say goodbye.’
‘That’s really good news – not that you’re saying goodbye, but that you’re well enough to give up the treatment.’
‘I really feel a lot better.’ He hesitated, but she was pleased to see a hint of a smile remain on his face. ‘Not perfect, but better.’
‘That’s good. And, of course, we’ll still be neighbours, so I expect I’ll see you around.’ She couldn’t prevent a note of disappointment from creeping into her voice and she was quick to try to cover her tracks. ‘Anyway, hopefully the sale of the house should be going through any day now. I thought I might have a little house-warming party when that happens. Maybe you and your wife might like to come round for a glass of something to celebrate when that happens.’
His face hardened in an instant and he shook his head, leaving Lucy wishing she hadn’t mentioned the idea. Of course he wouldn’t want to come to a party where he could be recognised. She could have kicked herself.
‘That’s kind, thanks.’ She noted that he didn’t say yes, but he also didn’t immediately say no. But then, to her surprise, he came up with an invitation of his own. ‘Anyway, you know you were asking about the ruined castle alongside the villa. I was wondering if you’d like to come up and take a look for yourself some time.’
‘That would be amazing. I’m reading a book at the moment about the history of the region and I’d love to tie Castelnuovo into the events of the past, maybe even find out who the original builder of your castle was.’
‘I’m trying to do the same thing and I’ve got a number of books of my own. I could lend you some if you like.’
‘You’re interested in history, too?’
‘Always have been. I majored in history at college on a sports scholarship, though admittedly I spent most of my time on the tennis court rather than in the library. Still, I spend… used to spend a lot of my life in hotel rooms and on aircraft, so I’ve kept up my reading. The main reason I chose to come and live here in Tuscany – apart from my Italian roots – was the history of this part of the world.’