Under a Siena Sun (Escape to Tuscany Book 1)

by T A Williams

  ‘The sad fact is that almost all the people wandering past us would give their eye teeth to own a Ferrari. I sometimes think the world’s gone crazy. We’ve lost our sense of perspective about the really important things in life. Like health for example.’

  ‘Amen to that. Come to think about it, that’s also a major part of the reason I’m moving on from this car. When you’re younger, you feel you’re immortal. It’s only when your health takes a hit that you realise there’s more to life than the superficial stuff, like money for instance.’

  Lucy nodded in agreement and was very impressed to hear what he said next.

  ‘That’s something else I’ve been thinking about a lot recently. I’d really like to use my money for a good cause, not just for my own creature comforts – like this damn car. Anyway, don’t let it spoil your day and don’t let the crowds put you off. It’s not as bad as it looks here. The food’s good and I promise this afternoon I’ll take you to somewhere a hell of a lot quieter.’

  Greatly cheered by his words, she walked with him along the quayside to a restaurant where the waiter showed them to a table under a broad white parasol only a few metres from the water’s edge. It looked as though all the other tables were full and it was buzzing with conversation, but, for now, nobody appeared to recognise David, or if they did, they were civilised enough to leave him alone. Boris was persuaded to lie down at their feet as the waiter took their order. After a brief exchange of pleasantries, they ordered fritto misto for two and settled back in their seats. Down here by the water there was just a hint of a breeze blowing. A digital thermometer on the side of a low building just beyond the restaurant indicated it was thirty-six degrees today, but the breeze made that just about bearable.

  They chatted some more and relaxed. All around them were people enjoying their holidays and – at least in a good few cases – the chance to show off their expensive designer clothes. Over her bikini, Lucy was wearing shorts bought at the market and a plain white top. Even when she added in her sandals, the total cost of what she was wearing was almost certainly a good bit less than this meal was going to be. She sneaked a peek at the designer logo on his shirt, which looked decidedly pricey. She really did like him a lot, in spite of her reservations about the mega-rich. After all, it wasn’t his fault he fell into that category and, unlike many others, he had at least got there by his own legitimate efforts and, from what he had just said in the car, maybe he would really do something good with his wealth rather than just sit on it.

  The fritto misto was excellent, no doubt due in no small part to the freshness of the little fish, prawns, squid and tiny octopus which the chef had dusted in flour and quick-fried. They shared a half-bottle of white wine and a big bottle of mineral water with the meal while they carried on chatting. Lucy would have loved to ask him for details of what he had described as the ‘long, sad story’ of his separation, but she decided to let him take his time about telling her. Instead, as they sat back at the end of the meal, she brought the subject round to tennis.

  ‘I’m delighted to see you walking quite normally again. What happens next? What did Doctor Saeed say? Will you be able to play again?’ She already knew the answer to this, but she didn’t want it to look as though she had been too nosey.

  ‘Play, yes – at least a bit. Compete, no.’ He took a little sip of wine. ‘It was pretty much what everybody’s been telling me for almost three years now, but I’ve finally come to terms with it. Let’s face it, irrespective of my injuries, I’m an old man as far as tennis is concerned. You probably know I’m thirty-seven.’ Lucy did, but she gave no sign. ‘After three years out, there’s no way I could have gone back to the top of the rankings even with a perfect knee and, when all’s said and done, I love winning. A return to top level competition now would mean a lot of losing, I’m sure.’

  Lucy was delighted to hear him talking about this so rationally and calmly. If it was true that he had really had a breakdown two or three years ago, this marked a major improvement. Once again, she spared a thought for Franz who had helped her so much in combating her own demons. It sounded as though he had done the same for David.

  ‘So what happens now? Are you going to settle down and become a wine producer? I can think of worse ways of making a living.’

  He smiled and shook his head. ‘No, well, yes to the wine part, but that won’t be enough in itself. Apart from the past three tough years, I’ve spent almost all my life involved with something that occupied me body and soul. The worst thing about my injury has been the massive hole it left in my life. I’m too young to retire. I need something to focus on.’

  ‘So what might that be? Coaching? TV commentating, maybe?’

  He smiled again. ‘You wouldn’t believe the offers I’ve been getting via my agent. The latest is a range of leisurewear for “men who want clothing that performs”.’ Seeing Lucy grin, he went on. ‘That’s nothing. Last year there was a big Italian lingerie company who wanted me to endorse their new line of sports bras. Now, I may have put on a few pounds since I gave up competitive tennis, but my boobs don’t need support that badly yet.’

  ‘Having seen you with your shirt off, I can confirm that. Apart from sponsorship deals which, I’m sure, can be very lucrative, is there something you’d really like to do with your life?’

  He nodded. ‘Definitely one… well two, no three really. First – don’t laugh at me please – I’d like to go back to college and maybe do a doctorate in medieval history. What do you think of that as an idea? I notice you didn’t immediately burst out laughing, and I thank you for that.’

  ‘I wouldn’t dream of laughing at something like that. If for some reason I had to give up my medical career, I’d jump at the chance to do the same. Where would you do it? In the States?’

  As she asked the question she found herself wondering if this might take him away from her and she felt a cold stab in her stomach as she realised how much she would miss him.

  ‘There are some great universities in the USA, but the Middle Ages happened before the US as we know it even existed. No, I’d stay in Europe, for sure.’

  ‘What about Siena? There’s a very good university here. Or maybe even Florence? After all, you now know Guido. He could help you, I’m sure.’

  ‘Yes, indeed, or maybe your native land. Some of the best universities in the world are in the UK.’

  ‘You said there were three things you’d like to do. What’re the others?’

  ‘The second is that I’m actively considering setting up a charity of some sort. I don’t just want to be remembered for what I did on the court.’

  ‘That sounds wonderful.’ She was genuinely impressed. ‘What sort of thing?’

  ‘I really don’t know – maybe providing sports scholarships for underprivileged kids or support for injured athletes or something like that. It all depends on money and that in turn depends on how things pan out with my third wish.’

  ‘And that is…?’

  ‘I want to get a divorce.’

  ‘You aren’t already divorced?’

  ‘No, my wife would like nothing better and she keeps on hassling me, but I’ve been hanging on, hoping she might maybe change her mind and give it another go. Until the lawyers sort out the financial side of things I won’t know how much I can spare for the charity.’

  ‘What’s changed your mind about the divorce?’

  He looked up from his plate, straight into her eyes. ‘You, Lucy.’

  ‘Me?’ The mouthful of wine she had just swallowed almost came back up again. She could hardly believe her ears.

  ‘You. Now, listen, please don’t be alarmed. I’m not proposing marriage or anything as radical as that. I’m just saying that I like you a lot and being with you has made me realise how much was missing in my marriage – like being able to talk to each other about something other than tennis and trivia for instance.’

  Lucy seriously considered draining her glass of wine in one, but she settled for another
sip while she tried to get her head around what he had just said. ‘Well, I enjoy talking to you, too, and we do talk about a lot of different stuff.’ It sounded a bit lame, but she was pleased to manage to get at least a few words out.

  ‘Meeting somebody who shares my love of history has been a breath of fresh air, but there’s so much more to it than that. Like you say, we do talk about all sorts of subjects.’

  She was gradually regaining the power of speech. So he really did like her. She felt her heart soar. She reached across the table with both hands and caught hold of his. ‘Well, for the record, I’m not proposing to you either, but I do like you an awful lot as well.’

  She felt him squeeze her fingers. ‘I’m glad we got that sorted out.’ He smiled again. ‘And now, if you’re really sure you don’t want dessert or even a coffee, what do you say we head somewhere a little quieter?’

  A few minutes later they set off along the quay, but not in the direction of the car. Barely a hundred metres further on, they stopped by a sign marked Noleggio Motoscafi. A heavily tattooed man lazing under a faded red and white parasol advertising Campari looked up from his newspaper and beamed as he recognised David.

  ‘Ciao, David. Long time no see.’ He looked genuinely pleased to see him. ‘I’ve kept one for you, like I promised you on the phone. Ready to go?’

  David nodded and Lucy wondered what he meant. This was soon revealed as they followed the tattooed man down a sloping ramp onto a pontoon moored alongside the quay. As they reached a smart RIB, a rigid inflatable boat, the man pointed.

  ‘This okay? It was new in June. It runs as sweet as you like.’

  Boris answered for them. He was clearly accustomed to boats and he wasted no time in jumping in, before turning back towards them, legs splayed, tail wagging, his tongue hanging out, clearly delighted to be on the water. Lucy took a seat on an upholstered bench alongside David at the wheel and the engine purred into life. The tattooed man cast them off and they slowly eased away from the quayside and out between the forest of masts of moored yachts. There was very little wind and most of the yachts hadn’t moved from their berths, their owners no doubt enjoying a little siesta after their Sunday lunch.

  As they reached the entrance to the marina, David opened the throttle some more and the boat sped smoothly away, producing a very welcome breeze after the clammy heat of the shore. As she cooled down, Lucy found herself analysing her feelings. She still didn’t know if he really had been the guilty party in the separation, but the more she got to know him, the less she believed him capable of betrayal. Yes, he was undisputedly still a very rich man from a different stratosphere, but all his talk about setting up a charity had been very heartening. And he was also very, very attractive. Her musings were interrupted by his voice.

  ‘I thought we could go out to that little island out there.’ Lucy followed his pointing finger with her eyes and spotted a rocky lump with a little tower on it, probably about a kilometre or two away. ‘It’s very pretty and it’s unlikely to be too crowded. And, most important, there’s a tiny area of gravel beach; not for us, but for Boris. He loves the water, but getting him back into a boat like this again is a real struggle unless there’s a bit of dry land handy.’ He shot her a smile. ‘If you want to slip into your swimming things, I promise I won’t look.’

  Lucy stood up and smiled back at him. ‘Already got them on.’ She pulled off her top and unbuttoned her shorts, letting them fall to her ankles. She glanced down and was reassured to see her bikini still attached in all the right places. As she looked up again, she saw his eyes on her body and her smile broadened. ‘Your turn.’

  ‘Here, take the wheel, will you?’

  Before she could object, he slipped the kill cord off his wrist and clipped it onto hers, slid off the seat and reached for his T-shirt. She made a grab for the wheel before the boat could veer off course. It was going quite fast and it was fun to drive, although it meant keeping her eyes on the water ahead, while she knew he was stripping to his shorts. A few seconds later, he slid back alongside her, but made no attempt to take over the steering. Instead, his bare arm encircled her shoulders as he pulled her gently towards him. She felt her whole body tingle as he kissed her softly on the neck and then turned her face towards him and kissed her properly.

  At this point, nobody was in control of the boat, but she couldn’t care less. There was nobody else close-by and the rocky island was still quite a long way ahead. She felt totally transported by his touch and his kiss. It was almost like an out-of-body experience and she found she could hardly breathe. Her head was reeling with the fact that there could be no doubt now that he liked her, a lot. His hands on her bare shoulders felt good and the kiss genuinely made her head spin. Finally, reluctantly, after a long while she pulled away enough to glance ahead of them and was relieved to see the island still several hundred metres off and the boat still heading roughly towards it. There were three or four other boats anchored around it but otherwise it looked quite deserted. She glanced back at David from close range and smiled.

  ‘Well, Mr Lorenzo, that was rather nice.’

  ‘Rather nice?’ His voice was even a bit hoarse. ‘It was incredible.’ He looked genuinely moved.

  She leant forward and pecked him on the lips, letting her smile broaden. ‘We’ll have to do it again, then.’

  David gave a heartfelt sigh and then glanced forward, reaching for the throttle control to slow the boat to a standstill. Suddenly all she could hear were the screams of seagulls high above and the soft lapping of the wavelets against the rubber sides of the boat. He turned towards her, looking suddenly serious. ‘Listen, Lucy, I need to tell you my side of the story.’

  ‘What story?’

  ‘The story of why my wife and I broke up.’

  Lucy listened, spellbound, as he launched into his tale. The overriding thought going through her head as he spoke was that this – coupled with that amazing kiss – marked a watershed in their relationship.

  As he had told her during their visit to Florence, it was miles away from most of the newspaper accounts.

  ‘The final break-up was my fault – well, to a great extent – but not for the reasons people have been saying. I was away a lot – that comes with the territory in my occupation – and I assumed Rosy, my wife, would have realised that. At first she came with me to tournaments, but she soon got tired of traipsing around the world from one hotel room to another and she started to get bored. She came back to Tuscany and spent a lot of the time in the apartment we rented here in Punta Ala or in Rome with friends, or back in the States. We saw less and less of each other and we didn’t even talk on the phone that much. Things might still have worked themselves out if it hadn’t been for my injury. One moment I was a set and a break up against Rafa Nadal at Roland Garros and the next I was lying in agony on the court looking at my knee bent completely out of shape with my lower leg sticking out sideways.’

  Lucy nodded mutely and caught hold of his hands in hers. She knew full well the pain that torn cruciate ligaments could cause. She gave his fingers a little squeeze, but he didn’t seem to notice as he picked up his tale again.

  ‘In my defence, I hope you can understand just how much of a crushing blow this was. From the very start the doctors who treated me told me it looked almost certain that my career was over. Can you imagine what it feels like to spend your whole life totally focused on one thing, to the exclusion of all else, and for that to be torn away from you in a matter of seconds? Just think – I first started playing tennis when I was five and I was winning junior tournaments by the time I was ten. All the way through school and college, tennis was the single most important thing in my life – not my parents, not my studies, not even girls; just tennis and the desire to become world champion. It was all-consuming, the only thing I knew. Being told it had come to an end came as a hammer blow to me.’

  Lucy nodded mutely.

  ‘As the significance of this gradually sank in, I’m afraid to say I to
tally lost it. I freaked out and spiralled down into a morose, uncommunicative state where I didn’t want to see anybody or talk to anybody. And that included Rosy. I hauled her back to the US with me while I went to see specialist after specialist, trying all manner of miracle cures, but with no success, and all the time I was getting more and more depressed. By this time the villa was finished so we moved in and that was the final blow for her. She didn’t speak much Italian and she found herself alone in the wilds of the country with a monosyllabic hulk. The hope was that moving to the villa would snap me out of it, but it didn’t. Rosy stuck it out for a few months and then, after a series of flaming rows, she left me and came here to the apartment at Punta Ala.’

  ‘So no naked romps with cheerleaders?’ She was trying her best to cheer him.

  ‘No naked romps with anybody – at least not for me – but I feel very responsible for the break-up. It wasn’t fair of me to expect her to put up with a man who probably didn’t utter more than two or three words each day. I certainly don’t blame her for leaving.’

  ‘And at which point did she start asking you for a divorce?’

  ‘Maybe eighteen months ago. She was living down here at Punta Ala and she told me she’d met some guy with a yacht. She said she’d fallen in love with him and she wanted out. I was so low, I didn’t want to lose her as well, so I kept saying no, hoping she’d come to her senses.’

  ‘So, technically, the unfaithful partner wasn’t you at all, it was your wife. So why not set the record straight?’

  ‘Back then I couldn’t care less what anybody thought. I didn’t read the papers, I didn’t watch the news, and I certainly didn’t get involved with social media. Besides, what was I going to say? She left me because I was a wreck. Nobody could blame her.’

  Lucy shook her head. ‘I’m not convinced. What about the whole “in sickness and in health” thing? Didn’t that matter to her?’

  For the first time she saw a glimmer of a smile on his lips, albeit ironic. ‘You see it that way because you’re such a caring person. Don’t forget I come from a very egotistical way of life where the only thing that matters is to win, to be better than the opposition. I suppose, thinking back, Rosy was out of the same mould. I’m going to do my best to change now, to become a better person – with your help – but back then, I didn’t hold it against her.’