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

by T A Williams

  Sophie promised.

  When she emerged from the salon, she felt very self-conscious at first. He had probably only taken three or four inches off her hair but it felt completely different. Thinking about it, for the last six months or more she had only ever worn it tied back in a simple ponytail, as much to keep it out of her face as anything else. Now it was hanging loose, just grazing her shoulders, and it felt good, but she knew it would take a bit of getting used to. When she met up with Rachel in a cafe as arranged, she was relieved to get her sister’s seal of approval.

  ‘You look great, Soph, really great.’

  Sophie ordered an Americano and they chatted and it soon emerged that Rachel had been on the phone to Toledo.

  ‘There are eight of them coming – two couples and four individuals. I’ve met almost all of them and I’m sure you’ll like them.’ Sophie saw her shoot an apprehensive glance across the table. ‘Is it all right with you if they stay for a week? I promise if they’re a nuisance or if you don’t get on with them I’ll send them packing earlier – just say the word. And I’m sorry I didn’t check with you first.’

  There was a big difference between three days of potentially smelly fish and a whole week but her sister’s apology was welcome so Sophie swallowed any further objections and nodded her agreement. ‘And when are they coming?’

  ‘The middle of August, if that’s okay.’

  Sophie bowed to the unavoidable. At least that was still well over a month away. ‘That’s fine, Rach. That way we’ve got time to get everything ready for them.’

  At that moment, Rachel suddenly jumped to her feet and started waving frantically. ‘Dan, Dan, over here.’

  The tall American had appeared on the far side of the street and, seeing them, came across to join them.

  ‘Hi, ladies. You’re both looking good today.’ He paused to get a better view of Sophie. As he did so, she felt a distinct tremor run down her back and her stomach tense. ‘Sophie, you’re looking very good. It’s your hair, isn’t it?’

  She nodded mutely, feeling the colour rush to her cheeks. Either not noticing or diplomatically pretending not to notice, Dan glanced over at Rachel, and Sophie saw him realise he might have put his foot in it. He hastily proved that his diplomatic skills extended to both sisters. ‘Not that you don’t look gorgeous as always, Rachel.’

  She didn’t blush, but then she had been receiving compliments on her looks all her life. ‘Thanks, Dan, and Sophie does look good, doesn’t she? Feel like joining us?’

  He pulled out a chair and waved to a passing waitress. ‘Un espresso, per favore.’

  Doing her best to sound unflustered, Sophie gave Dan a welcoming smile.

  ‘Thanks for the compliment. I badly needed a haircut – the stylist told me my split ends had developed their own split ends – so I took the plunge. What’s new with you? How’s the book coming along?’

  ‘Slowly. I’ve been going on a number of research trips so as to get some real on-the-ground proof of some of the ideas I’ve been formulating. You know, visiting places along the coast which were already around back in the Middle Ages, to see what traces, if any, are still left.’ He leant back as the waitress placed a little cup of coffee in front of him and gave her a murmured, ‘Grazie’.

  ‘What sorts of places? Santa Rita and all this modern development certainly wasn’t here way back then.’

  ‘No, although your castle was, of course. It dates back to the fourteenth century. I’ve been to a number of similar medieval castles and townships along the coast, or just inland, between here and the French border, and I still have a few to go. I’ve even been up to a little village called Seborga which – believe it or not – actually declared independence from Italy in 1963, claiming it’s an autonomous principality. To be honest, I think that one’s more a publicity stunt to attract tourists, but it shows just how isolated some of these little hilltop communities could be. For each place of significance I then need to write up my notes, and this gradually fleshes out the text. Closer to home, I’ve just read that there are the remains of a little thirteenth-century chapel a couple of kilometres back along the ridge as you head inland from Paradiso. I must go and take a look some time.’

  This sounded familiar to Sophie. ‘I think I might know the one you mean. Hang on.’ She pulled out her phone and clicked on the photos she had taken yesterday. ‘Is this it?’

  He reached over and grasped her hand along with the phone. His touch sent another little spark racing through her and she hastily picked up her coffee with her free hand and sipped it in an attempt to take her mind off the sensation. In the meantime his attention was completely trained on the screen.

  ‘Yes, that’s it all right. Would you know your way back to it?’

  She nodded. ‘No problem. I can lead you there any time you like. I walked up there with Jeeves.’

  ‘I tell you what; let’s exchange phone numbers. Next time you’re thinking of heading in that direction, just give me a shout.’

  ‘Any time you want. Why don’t you call me when you want to go there? One day’s much like any other for me at the moment.’

  He punched in his number on her phone while she did the same on his. Just as he was about to hand hers back it bleeped and he glanced at the screen.

  ‘You have a message from somebody called Chris.’

  ‘Chris is Sophie’s boyfriend.’ There was a note of triumph in Rachel’s voice and Sophie ground her teeth and hastened to explain.

  ‘He’s an old friend. He used to go out with one of my friends.’

  ‘And now he’s going to go out with Sophie. He’s coming to stay.’ Then just to make sure that Dan could be in no doubt, she added, ‘Lucky old Sophie.’

  Maybe sensing the tension in the atmosphere, Dan swallowed his espresso in one and stood up. ‘Anyway, I have to go. I’ll see you girls around. Bye.’ He headed inside to the cash desk.

  ‘So what does Chris say, Soph?’ Rachel’s tone was butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-her-mouth innocent. ‘Is he coming over?’

  Repressing her irritation, Sophie read the message out loud to her sister.

  Hi Soph. I’m going to be in Milan in a couple of weeks’ time for a meeting. Could I come and see you for the weekend maybe? x

  ‘That sounds good. The sooner the better.’ Rachel was sounding encouraging. ‘What does he do?’

  ‘He did History of Art at uni and now works for a big auction house and travels all over the place. I expect he’s coming over to eye up a valuable painting or jewellery or something.’

  ‘Let’s hope he brings some free samples. Who knows? Maybe he’ll bring you a nice antique engagement ring with a whopping great big diamond on it.’ Seeing the expression on Sophie’s face, she relented. ‘Anyway, it’s probably a good thing if he’s just coming for a couple of days initially. If things don’t work out, he’ll soon be off, and if you and he do get it together he can come back for a longer stay later on.’

  Chapter 8

  That evening at just after six, Sophie was roused from her laptop by the sound of a bell closely followed by a woof from Jeeves who jumped to his feet and charged out of the room. It took her a moment or two to work out that this had to be the front doorbell so she followed the dog into the entrance hall, heaved the heavy door open and looked out. The doorstep was empty but of course the main gates were locked. Presumably somebody had rung the bell outside in the square. She picked up her keys and went out to see who it was.

  She was about to open the gate when she had a sudden thought that it might be Claudio casually dropping in to renew his acquaintance with her, and she almost slammed it shut again. Still, taking a deep breath, she pulled it open and was relieved to see an unfamiliar face. He was a good-looking man with dark hair and a closely trimmed beard and he looked friendly.

  ‘Good evening, can I help you?’

  ‘Good evening, my name’s Dario Fornero. My cousin Gianni told me you had a problem with the pool.’

  ‘Oh,
thank you very much for coming but it isn’t so much a problem as a query.’ She beckoned him in and explained about Jeeves and the water and she saw him nod. As if following the conversation Jeeves nudged him with his nose and got a pat on the head in return.

  ‘Gianni mentioned that to me. It should be fine but what I would recommend is to line your skimmer basket with a skimmer sock.’ He must have noticed the blank expression on her face. ‘Don’t worry. It’s simple. I’ve brought a pack with me and it’ll only take a few moments to fit one. Shall I show you how?’

  They walked round to the pool and found Rachel, thankfully wearing both parts of her bikini this evening. Hanging onto Jeeves’s collar with one hand to prevent him from leaping into the water, Sophie introduced Dario to Rachel and couldn’t miss the look he gave her sister. Clearly he liked what he saw. He opened the pool house door and squatted down to fiddle with something and Rachel gave Sophie a wink.

  ‘I’m beginning to see why they call this place paradise, Soph. Another hunk!’ Evidently she approved.

  ‘If you’d like to come over here, I’ll show you how to fit it.’ Dario waved to them to join him. They did as instructed and watched as he demonstrated how easy it was. ‘Check it every week or two. If you see a lot of dog hair caught in the sock, just peel it off and replace it, okay?’ Seeing them nod, he reached into his bag again. ‘Seeing as I’m here, I’ll just check the pH level of the water, but it looks and smells fine to me.’ He produced a little piece of apparatus and dipped it in the water. Pulling it out, he checked the result and smiled at them. ‘Perfect. No need to alter anything. Your pool’s fine and your dog’s quite okay to swim as much as he likes – as are you.’

  No sooner had Dario stopped talking than Jeeves looked up at Sophie as much as to say ‘You heard’. She released her grip on him and as he flung himself into the water she turned to Dario and asked how much they owed him. He shook his head and waved her offer away.

  ‘No charge. You’re very welcome.’

  ‘The least we can do it to offer you a glass of wine.’ Rachel made the suggestion and Sophie decided it was her turn to act as wine waiter tonight.

  ‘We’ve got red, white or champagne. You choose, Dario.’

  ‘If it’s no trouble, a glass of red would be great.’

  Sophie left them to it and returned to the kitchen, reflecting that Dario appeared to be as efficient and generous as his cousin, who had given her car back to her earlier sounding as smooth and quiet as if it were new – and hadn’t charged her the earth. Remembering what Rachel had told her, she found several unmarked bottles of red in the fridge and carried one back out to the pool along with three glasses and a tub of the intensely flavoured local Taggiasche black olives. Dario was sitting on the edge of a sunbed directly opposite Rachel and didn’t appear able to keep his eyes off her. Sophie set down the tray and poured the wine before taking a seat a tactful distance away from the two of them. Dario managed to tear his eyes off her sister’s body long enough to give Sophie a glance and raise his glass.

  ‘Cheers, and thank you.’

  ‘Thank you, Dario.’ Rachel reached over and clinked her glass against his. ‘Cin cin.’

  Sophie planned to drink her wine and leave her sister with the handsome Italian – if that was what she wanted. She took a big mouthful and had to agree that Beppe’s red wine made with the castle’s very own grapes was excellent.

  ‘Are you ladies planning on staying here long?’

  Dario politely managed to include Sophie in the conversation although his eyes were still on Rachel, who didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. Sophie left it to her sister to explain that they would be here until the end of September. After a few minutes, Sophie swallowed the last of her wine, stood up, thanked him again and excused herself. Rachel gave her a little wink as she did so. As Jeeves was still wet Sophie took him for a walk around the garden so that he could drip dry himself before going back inside.

  When they reached the far end of the vineyard, she sat on a conveniently sited bench and looked out through the fence, down across the olive groves and vineyards towards Santa Rita. Even from this distance she could see that the promenade was still packed. No doubt it would get even busier in a few weeks’ time when the main holiday month of August started, but up here, Paradiso was living up to its name. As if to emphasise the point, a beautiful orange and black butterfly almost the width of her hand fluttered past and landed on Jeeves’s head. He was stretched out on the dusty ground, eyes closed, looking as if he had just run a marathon, and blissfully unaware of his temporary guest. The butterfly sat there for a few seconds, wings pulsing in the sunlight, before deciding that there were more fragrant places to take a rest and flitting off again.

  Sophie started thinking about the idea of writing a book, and a story began to develop in her head. Here she was in a medieval castle, so what better place to set the story? The Middle Ages were a fascinating time and, she reminded herself, she had the added bonus of having a medievalist living just down the road, who would no doubt be able to help her get her facts straight. What did they eat and drink seven hundred years ago? What clothes did they wear? Did they have Labradors? What did they do without television? Did they really have chastity belts? She realised she would have to spend quite a lot of time with Dan in order to get to the bottom of all these queries and the idea of seeing more of him had considerable appeal – particularly if Rachel had found herself a man in the shape of the handsome Italian pool guy. Of course, that left the question of Chris unanswered, but there would be time to worry about that the weekend after next when he came to stay.

  As for the plot of her book, she rather liked the idea of a story of two sisters, both countesses or duchesses or princesses – she had better add medieval aristocratic titles to her list of queries for Dan – who lived here in the castle. The girls’ father was away on the Crusades – when were the Crusades please, Dan? – and they had been left in the not-so-tender hands of their stepmother. The story could involve different suitors, rivalries and jealousies as well as a shot of heartache and a few hints of something steamy. There could be a masked ball, a couple of banquets and maybe a wild horseback ride across the mountains to escape an attack by Saracen pirates. She sat there and let her mind tick over, and by the time she stood up again, the nucleus of a story had started to take shape.

  Back inside the castle there was no sign of Rachel so Sophie threw together a salad laced with gorgonzola, walnuts and pieces of speck, the lovely smoked ham from the Alps. She accompanied it with a glass of red from another bottle in the fridge and switched on the TV in the corner of the room to watch the news. She had just finished her meal and was feeding Jeeves when the back door opened and Rachel reappeared. Jeeves didn’t look up – dinner time was far too important for that – but his tail did wag a little bit harder.

  ‘Hi, Soph, sorry I’m late for dinner.’

  ‘No worries, there’s plenty of salad left over. Has your guest gone?’

  Rachel winked at her. ‘Yes, for today…’

  ‘But tomorrow…?’

  ‘Tomorrow he’s taking me out for dinner and then, in a few days’ time when he can get away, he said he’s going to take me out on his yacht.’

  ‘Just remember what happened last time you were on a yacht – it sank.’

  ‘It didn’t actually sink like in a Titanic kind of way. It just sort of died in the harbour. When we went to bed at night it was fine. When we woke up next morning there was a foot of water in the cabin which just kept getting deeper and deeper until there was only the mast left sticking out of the water.’

  ‘Well, just be careful.’

  ‘Yes, big sister.’ In spite of the jibe, Rachel looked happy.

  ‘And if you bring him home, remember my room’s next door to yours. I wouldn’t want you to make so much noise you frighten Jeeves.’

  ‘Yes, big sister.’ Rachel was still smiling as she poured herself a glass of red and sat down. ‘But I have no intent
ion of leaping into anything with Dario – at least not until I know him a lot better. He seems like fun so why not, but you don’t need to worry about me bringing him or any other random men home.’ She pulled out a chair and sat down. ‘So when’re you going to go for that walk with Dan, you know, to his little chapel in the hills?’

  ‘I’ve given him my number. I’ll wait for him to call or, if I don’t hear in a few days, I’ll call him. After all, I don’t want to sound too eager.’

  ‘Why not? If you like him – and you do – you should be brave and make the first move. Besides, a walk to an old ruin isn’t quite in the same league as dragging him upstairs to your bed.’

  ‘Yes, but… there’s Chris, to consider. I’m not some sort of femme fatale juggling suitors and breaking hearts, you know.’ She very nearly added ‘like you used to be’ but stopped herself in time.

  ‘Look on it as seeing how the land lies. Maybe Dan’ll tell you he’s married with five kids. It wouldn’t hurt to find that out before things get serious. And, after all, you have no idea whether Chris feels the same way about you yet anyway. Go for a walk with Dan and see what you can find out. Wasn’t it Sun Tzu who said that sometimes a mere scrap of intelligence could be mightier than a thousand men?’

  Sophie was impressed that her sister remembered the legendary author of The Art of War, but it didn’t really help her much. The way her luck had been going over the last twelve months, it would most probably turn out that both men were unavailable. Still, as Rachel had said, it wouldn’t hurt to find out more about the handsome American.

  Chapter 9

  A couple of days later Sophie was delighted to get a call from Dan asking if she felt like showing him the way to the chapel. She agreed immediately and they met up at ten thirty the morning after. He was wearing his usual shorts and trainers but today, instead of a T-shirt he had on a faded pink polo shirt that showed off his suntanned arms to advantage – and Sophie had always had a thing for men’s forearms. For her part, she was also wearing shorts and a white top that bared her shoulders, although the effect was somewhat spoiled as she had to smother herself in factor fifty sun cream to avoid getting sunburnt. In consequence there was a lingering odour of coconut about her and she was quick to explain. He clearly approved.