by T A Williams
‘Thank you so much for coming all the way over here to Siena, Doctor Brown.’
‘My pleasure entirely, Lucy. David was particularly keen for you to hear and approve of the donation and his plans to help set up this new MSF centre and I was very keen to meet and thank him for his generosity.’ She caught Lucy’s eye for a second or two. ‘You do approve, don’t you?’ All Lucy could do was nod mutely. ‘Excellent. I was delighted to make the trip – not least as it gave me the chance to renew my acquaintance with Michelangelo and his charming daughter. I was also very pleased to have the chance of seeing you again, Lucy, to say thank you once more for all your efforts in Mabenta.’
It was well past six o’clock by the time Lucy emerged – still in a daze – from the director’s office with David at her side. They wandered out into the garden as the sun was beginning to drop behind the hills, gradually turning the sky an enchanting rose pink. He took her hand and led her across to an old bench where they sat down side-by-side, surrounded by sweet-scented bushes. He kept hold of her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. They sat there like that, in silence, for quite some time before she finally managed to put her thoughts into words.
‘David, are you doing this for my sake?’ She had to clear her throat before managing to speak properly. ‘It’s not fair of me to ask you to make such a massive sacrifice.’
‘I’m not doing it for your sake, Lucy.’ His voice was gentle, but heavy with emotion. ‘I’m not even doing it solely for the sake of the poor people who need medical help. I’m doing it for my sake, for me. I need this. Like I told you, I don’t want my life to have been just about playing tennis and winning a few tournaments. I want to be able to sit back in years to come and know that I tried to help other, less fortunate, people.’ He turned towards her and she caught the reflection of the setting sun in his eyes, turning them the rich purple colour of lavender. ‘Life’s been unbelievably good to me – in spite of the past few years – and you’re so right when you say it isn’t fair that anybody should have so much. With your help, I now know that the best thing I can do is to give something back. I want to be a better man. You make me a better man.’
‘You’re a wonderful man, David.’ Lucy could feel the tears streaming down her cheeks again, but she knew these were tears of joy. ‘And I love you so very, very much.’ And she kissed him.
As they finally separated, he looked down at her with a little smile.
‘Feel like taking Boris for his evening walk?’
* * *
Lucy drove home on autopilot, as if in a dream, jumped into the shower and then changed into a T-shirt and shorts. As she came back downstairs again, she could already hear a familiar whining scratching sound and she went over to open the door. David, now also wearing shorts and trainers, was standing there with his faithful hound at his feet.
‘Ready to go?’
She dropped to her knees and hugged the big black dog, feeling him bury his face happily into her armpit, his tail wagging so hard with joy his whole body was wagging with it.
She knew how he felt.
Together, they made their way up through the olive trees, the last rays of the sun just peeking over the top of the hill casting long shadows. She and David walked hand-in-hand, happy to exchange little more than a word or two as they passed the spot that, to them, would forever be the place where they had seen the porcupine. At the top of the olive grove, they followed Boris onto the narrow path that wound its way through the rough scrub of the steeper part of the hillside. The temperature was still high, in spite of being the middle of September, and the sky was crystal clear. She knew from Armando that the vendemmia would start any day now and she hoped the weather would stay fine and dry until the precious grapes had been collected and ferried off to be made into next year’s wine.
At the top of the rise, they walked across to the fallen tree where she had first discovered the identity of her reclusive neighbour and she found herself reflecting upon how much progress he had made since then. He had come out of his shell, had rediscovered what it felt like to smile once more, and had morphed from a bitter, grumpy victim into a confident, happy man.
And her?
She couldn’t remember another moment in her life when she had been as happy as she was now. She had everything she had ever wanted, and the future, which only a couple of hours ago had looked so bleak, was once more bright and inviting. She sat on the familiar tree trunk and pulled David gently down with her until he was sitting at her side. A warm hairy body pushed in between them and she smiled as she saw Boris panting like a steam train, his head resting happily on his master’s knees. She reached down with her free hand and ruffled his ears. The look he cast up at her melted her heart.
‘Love you, love your dog.’ She returned her attention to David who removed his hand from hers and stretched his arm around her shoulder, cradling her against his chest.
‘Are you sure you mean that?’ She felt him kiss the top of her head. ‘I come with a lot of baggage, you know.’
‘And I don’t?’ She twisted her face up towards him. ‘I’ve struggled all my working life trying to square the circle, to come to terms with the fact that I’ve been lucky enough to have been born in a country where people – generally speaking – don’t go round in fear for their lives. I was able to get a good education and enough to eat every day and yet I know that millions upon millions of people elsewhere in the world never had that and never will. I know now that it’s been eating me up inside. Suddenly I feel a tremendous weight lifted off my shoulders and it’s thanks to you.’ She stretched up and kissed him softly on the lips. ‘You won’t believe how much you’ve helped me.’
‘I’ve helped you? It’s the other way round; I owe you so much.’
She nestled against him and gripped his arm with both her hands. She felt happy, she felt safe, and she felt a growing sense of pleasurable anticipation at the new life that now opened out in front of her. She looked out across the valley to the farms on the far side, the regular rows of vines among the olive groves and open fields making the scene look like a patchwork quilt. Although it was getting dark, she could see the funny little miniature tractors used in the vineyards creeping across the hillsides as the farmers prepared for the harvest to come. She hoped the wine would be good and now she knew without a doubt that she would still be here in Tuscany to sample and enjoy it. She squeezed David’s arm and looked back up at him again.
‘David, I’m sorry it’s taken me so long, but if the offer’s still open, there’s absolutely no doubt in my mind that I’d love to marry you. I can’t think of anything better than spending the rest of my life with you, if you’ll have me.’
As she spoke, she felt a big hairy paw land on her knee, followed by another as Boris, no doubt affected by the emotion in the air, stood up on his hind legs and stretched his long black nose towards her, trying in vain to reach up and kiss her. She smiled down at him and ruffled his ears as his master leant towards her and did what the dog had failed to do. Just before he kissed her, he murmured softly.
‘You can’t imagine just how happy that makes me.’
But she could, and it felt amazing.
First published in the United Kingdom in 2020 by Canelo
Canelo Digital Publishing Limited
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Copyright © T.A. Williams, 2020
The moral right of T.A. Williams to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 97817886
37640
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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