A Little Piece of Paradise: A sweeping story of sisterhood, secrets and romance (Love from Italy Book 1)

by T A Williams

  They had a good chat, but without any hint of anything other than friendship on his part, and when she got back to the house, she found Rachel at the kitchen table with her laptop.

  ‘Nice walk, Soph?’ There was no doubt she sounded more open today.

  ‘Yes, thanks, and I just had a call from Chris.’

  ‘I remember him. He used to go out with your flatmate, didn’t he?’

  ‘Yes, but they split up around the same time I split up with my Italian man.’

  ‘I’ve been wanting to ask you about your love life. I thought you might have been married by now. You were always looking for your one and only, weren’t you?’

  Sophie was pleasantly surprised to hear her sister speaking about such things. Apart from Rachel’s brief description of the places she had visited and the jobs she had had after running away, she hadn’t said much. She certainly hadn’t mentioned her own love life, and her conversation had been limited to everyday practicalities – apart from a few lustful remarks about their new American friend. Hopefully this increased communication would help in thawing the strained relations between them.

  Sophie managed a smile as she answered her sister. ‘And I thought I’d found him.’ She went on to relate the sad story of Claudio and her discovery of his multiple infidelities. ‘Looking back on it, I feel such a fool.’

  Rachel gave her a look that was full of sympathy and Sophie’s spirits rose. ‘It happens. So surely this opens the door for you to get together with Chris. You got on so well with him and I always thought he was very good-looking.’

  ‘To be completely honest, I’ve just been wondering that myself. He’s remained a friend, a very good friend. In fact he helped me pack my stuff last week.’

  ‘And he hasn’t hooked up with anyone else since his break-up?’

  ‘Not so far as I know – and I’m sure he would have told me if he had.’

  Rachel had a simple solution. ‘Well, why don’t you invite him to come and stay?’

  ‘What, here?’

  ‘Why not? There are loads of rooms and it’ll be fun to have company. I remember him well and I remember I liked him a lot. It’ll be great to see him again and that way you’ll have all the time in the world to see how you feel about him – and how he feels about you.’

  ‘I suppose I could…’ Sophie wasn’t used to her little sister telling her what to do and it felt a bit strange – even though her suggestion was eminently sensible.

  ‘Go on, do it. After all, if you don’t invite him this year, you never will, because by next year we’ll have sold this place. We have to. Look what I’ve just found on the internet.’

  Rachel turned her laptop so Sophie could see the screen. It was the website of a big international real estate company and the property on display looked vaguely similar to this one. It was described as a medieval castle on the Mediterranean coast near Genoa, probably not more than a hundred kilometres to the east of Paradiso, and the asking price was a phenomenal six million euros.

  ‘And that one’s a good bit smaller than this place and with nothing like as much land as this has.’ Rachel looked up from the screen and let her eyes roam around the room. ‘Blimey, Soph, we could be sitting on a fortune.’

  ‘There’s asking and there’s getting.’

  This had been one of their grandfather’s favourite sayings and Sophie used it deliberately to urge caution. Mind you, she thought to herself, even at half that price and after no doubt paying a load of taxes to the government, it would make both of them very rich indeed. Seeing as her sister was sounding less confrontational, she risked a personal question or two.

  ‘So what’s your plan? What are you going to do if all goes well and we manage to sell the castle for a load of money? Are you going to head back to Florida? Is there somebody waiting for you over there?’ She was moderately surprised to see Rachel shake her head. The one constant in Rachel’s life in her late teens and early twenties had been boys – an ever-changing panoply of them.

  ‘Nobody special. At least not now.’ Her voice tailed off, unexpectedly sombre, and Sophie did a bit of digging.

  ‘Not now, you say, but there was somebody…?’

  ‘There was.’ A long pause followed and Sophie was beginning to think she was about to be told to mind her own business when Rachel supplied a bit of clarification. ‘It all fell apart just over a month ago.’

  ‘Had you been together long?’

  ‘Two and a half years.’

  ‘Almost as long as me and Claudio. And why did it fall apart?’

  Rachel gave a heartfelt sigh. ‘I did something stupid.’

  This sounded all too familiar and ominous but, before Sophie could speak, her sister added a few words of clarification – up to a point. ‘But not what you think. Gabriel freaked out and I don’t blame him.’

  There was a finality in her tone that brooked no further questions – at least for now. Rachel subsided into silence once more, and this time she didn’t pick up her tale again. Sophie hesitated before deciding to give her the chance to fill in the blanks when she felt like it. Instead, she returned to her other question.

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that, Rach, but what about your plans for the future? Where would you like to live? If we sell the castle for that kind of money, you could choose anywhere in the world.’

  She was pleased to see the light return to her sister’s eyes.

  ‘I honestly don’t know for sure. I like Florida and I’ve got some good friends there; not so many back in England as we’ve lost touch over the years. For that matter, I’ve still got heaps of friends in Spain, near Toledo. I’ve known them since my year abroad while I was at uni and we’ve been corresponding regularly. But first things first, I really want to go back to Exeter and finish my degree.’ She glanced up at Sophie. ‘I’ve already been in touch and they’ve said yes. They’ve agreed that I can start back in October and just do the final year.’

  ‘That sounds brilliant.’ It really did. And what was even better was that Rachel appeared to be prepared to start talking a bit more freely at last. ‘And then what?’

  ‘Like I say, I haven’t really made up my mind yet. I’ve enjoyed the job I’ve had for the past couple of years in the PR department of a big hotel chain. I think I’m good at what I do and they seem happy with me; in fact, they’ve told me they’ll give me my job back any time I want. The chances of promotion are good there, but without a degree, any degree, I know I can only rise so far up the ladder.’

  ‘So your plan is to go straight off to the UK in October, get your degree, and then maybe head back to America. Let’s hope it all works out.’

  ‘As long as you and I don’t fall out this summer and screw up Uncle George’s master plan.’ Suddenly that harder note was back in Rachel’s voice.

  ‘You think we will?’

  There was a pregnant pause before Rachel replied. ‘It won’t be my fault if we do.’

  ‘Just so long as you don’t do something stupid again.’ Sophie had only been thinking out loud and she realised her mistake the moment she said it.

  She saw a flash of irritation cross her sister’s face. ‘Neither of us is perfect, Soph. Doing stupid things isn’t just my prerogative. Like I say, let’s hope we don’t screw up.’ She laid a lot of emphasis on the pronoun. Sophie was quick to pour oil on potentially troubled waters.

  ‘You’re right, Rach; we’re both going to have to work at it. Now, let’s go and sign in while we remember. It would be annoying to fail before we’ve even started. Besides, I’ve been meaning to explore the castle properly. I’ve not been up to the roof yet, have you?’

  ‘No, nor me. Sounds like a good idea.’

  Rachel’s prickly moment appeared to have passed and Sophie made a mental note to try to be more conciliatory in future. What was past was past and she would do well to remember that, if she and Rachel were to co-exist harmoniously for the next three months – if not longer. Besides, from what she had seen and heard so far, i
t really did appear as though this was a new, much more responsible incarnation of her sister.

  Accompanied by Jeeves – not for fear of ghosts, Sophie kept telling herself – they set out on their exploratory mission, starting on the ground floor. The first thing they did as they walked around the living room, was to remove the spooky dust sheets from the remaining furniture and fold them into a neat pile. As a result the room looked a lot less forbidding, not least as this revealed a number of very un-ghostly twenty-first-century items, ranging from a pair of smart leather sofas to a massive TV. The shutters were permanently open now and sunlight filtered in to reveal the magnificent vaulted ceiling and a huge tapestry of a medieval hunting scene hanging on the far wall. It was a stunning room.

  Beyond this were another couple of rooms, one of which had been transformed into a gym with a table-tennis table, a treadmill, a rowing machine and weights. Rachel studied them for a few moments before turning towards Sophie, looking and sounding much more like the old Rachel once more.

  ‘No excuse for letting ourselves go, now that Uncle George’s given us enough money to be able to eat at the Vecchio Ristoro twice a day every day from now till October.’

  Sophie rolled her eyes. ‘But what a way to go…’

  Up on the first floor they found no fewer than six more bedrooms, all immaculate and all with en suite bathrooms. Certainly, Sophie reflected, if she were to decide to invite Chris to come and stay – and it was clear Rachel wouldn’t object – there would be ample room for him. They went into Uncle George’s study and she felt that same pang as his now obsolete belongings reminded her that she would never see him again. Doing her best to control her emotions, she and Rachel went over to the computer where they put their hands on the screen, one on top of the other, fingers entwined and pressing down as instructed. Sophie murmured a silent prayer that they would still be doing this in three months’ time. Sure enough, the computer hummed into life, the red outline changed to green and a message flashed up, indicating that they had successfully logged their presence: day two… only ninety more to go.

  On the floor above, little or nothing had been done and they both soon realised that the task of sorting through what Uncle George had referred to as bric-a-brac wouldn’t be a quick one. There was all manner of junk strewn about willy-nilly in three large, low-ceilinged rooms. They spotted everything from piles of old newspapers and magazines now yellowed with age, maybe even going back to the Fascist period, to fascinating objects like an intricate and beautifully handmade wooden birdcage, three ancient fishing rods, and a number of metal items maybe linked either to agriculture or the Spanish Inquisition, but whose original purpose was now impossible – and probably inadvisable – to guess. A narrow wooden staircase led up from the top landing to a low doorway, the hefty door secured by two massive bolts. With the aid of her shoulder, Rachel heaved it open and they emerged, blinking, into the midday sunlight, high up on the roof of the castle.

  The view, as Sophie had expected, was incredible. From here they could see the coast curling away to the east and to the west for miles and miles, and the wide expanse of clear blue sea towards the distant horizon was dotted with yachts, fishing boats and even what looked like a cruise liner. Behind them, rows of tree-covered hills and mountains formed the Ligurian Apennines, a solid barrier between Liguria, where they now found themselves, and the rest of northern Italy, resulting in the clement microclimate to be found along this bit of coastline.

  ‘Wow, what a view.’ Sophie went across to the battlements and leant over to look down, hastily ducking back as she saw just how far they were from the ground. ‘I pity any besieging army trying to take this place.’

  She glanced around the roof. A pair of massive chimneys emerged over on the far side and she remembered that these were another of the tasks on Uncle George’s to-do list. Rachel sat down on a gnarled old wooden bench and Sophie went over to join her, patting Jeeves’s head as he came and settled down between the two of them, panting in the heat.

  ‘I mustn’t let Jeeves stay out in the direct sunlight for too long. Elementary physics tells us that dark objects retain heat more than light ones.’

  They sat there in silence for a few minutes, feeling the burning heat of the sun on their faces. Jeeves wasn’t the only one who would soon need to head for the shade. It was Rachel who broke the silence.

  ‘So what are you going to do for the next three months, Soph? A bit of a holiday’s all well and good but you’ll get bored before long, won’t you?’

  ‘I’m still working, so that’ll give me quite a bit to do. Come to think of it, today’s Wednesday, isn’t it? I’ve got a deadline to hand in a piece tomorrow at noon and I haven’t done a thing since last Friday.’

  ‘Does that mean you’re still writing?’

  Sophie nodded.

  ‘What sort of stuff? I thought you said you’d lost your job in Rome.’

  ‘That’s right. Ever since then I’ve been writing short stories for a couple of magazines. It doesn’t pay brilliantly, but they each publish one every couple of weeks, so it adds up and it’s been paying the rent while I look for another job – so far without success.’

  ‘Although thanks to Uncle George’s cash, you hardly need to bother now, don’t you?’

  The same thoughts had been going through Sophie’s head as well since their visit to the bank and Rachel’s discovery of the possible value of the castle, but she was naturally cautious. Until she and Rachel had managed to cohabit for the full period and the castle had sold, she knew it would be unwise to stop looking for a permanent job or give up the story writing, which she rather enjoyed.

  ‘I’ll keep going with the writing. I mean, even if you and I were to suddenly become millionaires…’ She looked across at her sister and grinned. ‘Sounds amazing, doesn’t it? Anyway, even if we end up with loads of money, we’re still going to need something to do or we’ll be bored stiff. After all, you’ve got things mapped out for yourself career-wise. I need to do the same.’

  ‘These short stories, what are they? Love stories?’

  ‘Women’s fiction, although I throw in a bit of heartache – you know, people dying or going off – just to keep them guessing.’

  ‘You always had so much more imagination than me. I tell you what you should do: you should write a book, a romance. Haven’t you always wanted to?’

  ‘It’s definitely something I’ve often thought about. The thing about writing is that unless you’re J. K. Rowling or Dan Brown, it’s hard to make a living at it. What was that movie where the guy says “The only kind of writing that makes money is ransom notes”? He knew a thing or two.’

  ‘But now you’ve been handed a free pass, or at least a lifeline for the next three months, why don’t you give writing a try.’

  ‘I might well do that. And what about you, Rach? How are you going to fill your time this summer?’

  ‘I thought I’d have a little chat to the gardener tomorrow. Didn’t Dan say he comes in on Thursdays? Maybe he’d let me help him. I’d love to learn all about vines. Depending where I end up, it would be fun to grow my own grapes and even make my own wine. Apart from that, there’s a huge reading list I’ve got to work my way through before I restart my degree. All in all I reckon we’ll both manage to avoid getting bored. Besides, we are in Paradiso after all. Have you ever heard of people being bored in paradise?’

  ‘From what I remember of Genesis, it has happened before. Be careful if you decide to pick an apple off a tree to keep well away from the snake.’

  ‘Ah, but I’d need an Adam first and so far I haven’t got one of those.’ Rachel shot Sophie a grin. ‘Although I wouldn’t mind sharing an apple with our American neighbour.’

  Neither would Sophie, but she didn’t comment. What was great, however, was to hear her sister sounding more like the sister she knew and loved. Could it be things were gradually returning to normality between them after the great rift? Still, she reminded herself, she had yet to lea
rn exactly what it was that had tipped Rachel over the edge. Had it been work pressure in her final year, some yet unnamed man, or something else?

  She didn’t have time for conjecture as Jeeves got up, shook himself, and made his way over to the shade of the chimneys. Sophie stood up in her turn. ‘I’d better take Jeeves back inside. It’s mad dogs and Englishmen time.’ She looked at her watch. ‘It’s gone two o’clock. After last night’s meal I thought I’d never eat again for as long as I lived, but I now realise I could manage a sandwich or something. Coming down?’

  Back in the cool of the kitchen, Sophie checked out the contents of the fridge. Rachel hadn’t been joking last night. It was absolutely jam-packed. As well as food, there were bottles of wine, including a 1998 Dom Perignon champagne that was no doubt worth a small fortune. Together they pulled out lettuce, tomatoes, cheese and salami and made themselves excellent sandwiches with the fresh bread brought earlier by Rita. Sophie was eating her sandwich and sipping cold mineral water – they had both decided to avoid drinking wine at lunchtime – when she noticed a narrow door in the corner that she hadn’t spotted before.

  ‘I wonder where that leads.’

  ‘Down to the dungeons or the torture chamber I expect.’

  ‘Rachel, don’t! Besides, wasn’t it you who was wandering around the corridors last night looking terrified?’

  ‘All right, all right, I’m sure there aren’t any dungeons. I tell you what – maybe there’s a wine cellar down there.’

  After finishing her meal, Sophie gave Jeeves his lunch, and while he was occupied vacuuming up his food in record-breaking time, she went over to the little door. She turned the key in the lock and it opened easily, fortunately without any spine-chilling creaking. She was delighted to see a light switch and she flicked it on to reveal a stone staircase leading downwards. She glanced back at Rachel who was fiddling with the coffee machine.

  ‘I’ll go and take a look. Wish me luck.’