by T A Williams
‘A very sensible precaution. Besides, I’ve always liked coconut.’
As they walked up through the pinewoods, she told him about her idea of a romantic novel set in the Middle Ages, and as she had hoped, he had answers to all her questions – although she did stop short of asking him about chastity belts. The most startling takeaway from his precis of medieval habits was that there had been a very different attitude towards hygiene back then.
‘For many people, washing was a once-a-month thing – at most – and they only fully immersed themselves in water if they fell in a river.’
‘Even princesses?’
‘Maybe they did bathe a bit more often than normal women, but you can be sure that most of the knights in shining armour were crawling with lice underneath the armour.’
‘Ugh… Maybe I won’t set the book in that era after all.’
‘There is such a thing as poetic licence. I doubt if your readers are likely to question the minutiae of your characters’ habits. After all, very few people watching movies about Robin Hood would stop to think what might be going on beneath Robin’s tights.’
‘Speak for yourself.’ Sophie giggled mischievously. It was fun being with him and she got the impression he was enjoying his time with her too. When they emerged from the trees into the full force of the sun, the track became narrower and they had to walk in single file. Needless to say, Jeeves went first and so Sophie followed him with Dan behind. From time to time the path widened and she slowed so they could talk, but it was only about generalities until they reached the remains of the little chapel. Here, after making a minute study of the ruins and taking a load of photos, Dan sat down beside her in the shade and they continued to talk. After a few moments he asked her a direct question.
‘When’s your boyfriend coming to stay?’
Sophie was taking a sip of water just as he asked the question. As a result she spluttered so badly, it went down the wrong way and she dissolved into a fit of coughing. Once she had recovered her breath, she wiped her eyes and did her best to set the record straight.
‘Sorry about that. Went down the wrong way. I’m not sure when Chris’s coming; I’m waiting to hear. He said in a couple of weeks so I imagine it’ll be towards the end of the month, but he’s not my boyfriend.’ She went on to explain how she had known him and Claire for almost ten years now and how her friendship with him had continued even after he and Claire had split up.
‘I see, so why did Rachel call him your boyfriend then?’ Dan immediately corrected himself. ‘I’m sorry, that’s no business of mine. I’m afraid I ask too many questions. Curiosity’s a bad habit of mine. Forget I spoke.’
Sophie had regained control of her vocal chords by now so she resolved to tough it out. ‘It’s all right; I don’t mind at all. It’s no big secret. I was in a fairly serious relationship up until last year and now Rachel’s trying to get me married off. She thinks I need to find myself another man pronto.’
‘And you aren’t interested?’ His tone was studiously neutral with no hint of anything other than natural curiosity.
‘I honestly don’t know. He’s a lovely guy but I’m scared stiff I might frighten him off if I let myself develop feelings for him that he doesn’t share. We’ll see what happens when he gets here but, anyway, I’m fine as I am. Let’s just say, with a few notable exceptions, the male of the species isn’t too high on my list of favourites at the moment. Give me a Labrador any day.’
‘On behalf of the males of the species I apologise for whatever that man did. Men do stupid things, I’m afraid.’
Sophie reflected on what little her sister had told her about the demise of her own relationship in the US, although she still had no idea of the exact circumstances leading to the break-up. ‘Not just men. Women also do stupid stuff, but in this case it was all down to him although, thinking back, I was probably far too trusting, pretty naïve, really.’ She gave him a quick, sanitised version of the circumstances that had caused her to dump Claudio.
‘I’m sorry. It must have been tough but don’t blame yourself. Trusting people’s a good thing. He’s the one in the wrong here.’ His voice was soft and sympathetic and she decided to throw the question back on him.
‘And what about you, Dan? Was that your wife or partner we saw you with last week at the restaurant?’
He shook his head. ‘No, Gina’s just a friend, and a colleague. She’s from the University of Genoa and she’s been helping me with my research.’
‘So nobody’s waiting for you back in Boston?’
There was a pause before he replied. ‘I honestly don’t know.’
She waited for him to elaborate but she waited in vain. In the end she gave him a gentle prompt. ‘So that means there might be.’
‘I suppose so.’ A long pause. ‘To tell the truth, listening to you talking about your friend Chris, it sounded all too familiar. The situation I’m in’s a bit like yours… in fact I suppose it’s very much like yours. My best friend back in the States is a girl called Jennifer. Sorry, I should say a woman called Jennifer, but I’ve known her since high school and old habits die hard, although she’s the same age as me.’ He caught Sophie’s eye for a second and smiled. ‘And I’m thirty-four and definitely no longer a teenage boy.’
She smiled back, although her brain was turning over what he had just said. ‘You don’t look a day over thirty-three and a half.’
‘You’re too kind. Anyway, Jen and I’ve been best buds for almost twenty years but it’s only now, since I’ve been over here on my own, that I realise how much I miss her. And after what you’ve just told me, I’m beginning to wonder if there’s maybe more to it than just simple friendship.’
‘And neither of you have married or got into serious relationships?’
‘Neither of us. Of course I’ve had girlfriends and she’s had boyfriends, but none of them stuck. In my defence I’ve been working hard over the last few years to get my PhD and to start making a name for myself in the field, but the fact is that I’ve never really met the right girl – apart from Jen.’
Sophie rested back against the rough wall of the ruined chapel and did her best to marshal her thoughts. It sounded as though he was dead right. From what he had said, his relationship with Jennifer sounded remarkably similar to her own relationship with Chris. On the one hand this was reassuring. It made her realise that her relationship with Chris maybe wasn’t so abnormal after all – friends could become more than friends. On the other hand, it was disappointing to think that this handsome, intelligent American was probably already involved with somebody else, even if he didn’t quite realise it yet. Mind you, she reminded herself, hadn’t she just told him she wasn’t interested in finding herself a new man?
They sat in silence for a few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts, until Jeeves stood up and came over to prod her bare knees with his nose, rousing her from her reflections. She turned towards Dan.
‘If you’ve seen all you need to see here, what would you like to do? If you want a longer walk there’s a little village with a bar about an hour that way, or would you prefer to head back to Paradiso?’
She saw him glance at his watch. ‘If you like I’ve got some food in the fridge at home. Would you maybe feel like coming to my place for lunch?’
That sounded like a great idea. ‘I’d love that, Dan, thank you, and I’m quite relieved you don’t want to do the longer walk. I admit I don’t really fancy a two-hour trek in this heat. It’s even hotter today than it has been, I think I might melt.’
They walked back together, chatting sporadically but mostly just in silence, one behind the other on the narrow path. When they got to the house he was renting she was impressed by what she saw. It was delightful. It was clearly very old – nothing like as old as the castle, but certainly a couple of centuries or more. There wasn’t a pool, but there was a covered veranda at the rear with a stunning view over the well-maintained gardens into the valley below. A hint of a breeze did a g
ood job of cooling her down as she took a seat in the shade with her dog sprawled at her feet, tongue hanging out.
After setting a bottle of cold mineral water and glasses on the table and a bowl of water on the old terracotta tiled floor in front of Jeeves, Dan disappeared back into the house again. Jeeves wasted no time in drinking half the water in the bowl, splashing much of it onto the floor around him as usual. Sophie did the same with her glass of water, but less messily. Dan reappeared shortly after, carrying a tray laden with food. As he unloaded it onto the table, he gave her a running commentary.
‘The ham’s from the farmer halfway down the hill, as are the little round goat’s cheeses. The figs are from the garden here, and so are the tomatoes and the lettuce. And the bread…’ – he paused for effect – ‘… is my own creation.’
‘Wow, a baker as well. A man of many talents.’
‘Wait until you taste it. Jen showed me how to do it but it’s only the second time I’ve tried, and the first lot was almost inedible. And the wine, of course, is from the castle. I stock up every now and then from Beppe. Did he tell you about keeping it in the fridge at this time of year, even though it’s red? The purists might turn their noses up at the thought, but he’s dead right.’ He filled two glasses and passed one across to her.
‘He certainly did and I quite agree. Cheers.’ She clinked her glass against his and sat back, enjoying the shade, the view and the company. In a way, knowing that there already was a woman in his life made it easier to relax in his company. He was such a nice guy and she was delighted to be his friend – and that was going to have to be that.
Dan’s homemade bread turned out to be more than edible, as were the other very simple ingredients of what became an excellent meal. They chatted over their food and he told her more about his work and his plans for the future. It was clear he was firmly wedded to his work at Harvard and she reflected that it was just as well he had got this Jennifer woman waiting for him. There could be no doubt that he would move back to Boston in the autumn. If somehow Sophie and he got together, it would be fraught with problems. Unless she were to find herself a job in the US – which was highly unlikely – any relationship with him would be destined for disaster. So she ate her food, drank her wine, and enjoyed the conversation, but she knew in her bones that friendship was all that was developing here.
At the end of the meal, he made a proposal – but not of a romantic nature.
‘You know I was saying I need to start making a few research trips? Well, I was thinking about beginning later this week or early next with a visit to Albenga.’ Seeing the expression on her face, he explained. ‘It’s only twenty minutes or so along the coast to the east. It’s a lot bigger than Santa Rita but it still has a medieval, partially walled, centre with some towers and a load of other old buildings. I’ve read about it but I haven’t been there yet. If you feel like coming, and Rachel as well if she’s interested, I’d enjoy your company and it might be nice for you to see another town.’
‘That sounds great. I’d enjoy that and I’ll mention it to Rachel as well. I’m sure she’ll be delighted to come too.’
‘I’ve rented a little car here so we can go in that. It’s a bit small but the three of us should just about be able to squeeze in.’
Sophie had an idea. ‘Uncle George’s Mercedes is up at the castle. Why don’t we take that? Apparently it’s insured for anybody to drive.’
‘If Rachel’s coming, that would be great, thanks. My little Fiat really is tiny. By the way, where did you say she was today? Didn’t she feel like a walk?’
‘She’s doing stuff in the garden. Ever since Beppe came in, she’s been hard at it. Gardening has always interested her. She spends her days out there among the plants, with a bit of swimming and sunbathing thrown in, and most of her evenings working for her return to university in October. Maybe she told you she left before finishing her degree and now she wants to remedy that.’ A thought occurred to her. ‘Talk of swimming reminds me of something I’ve been meaning to say – if Rachel hasn’t already said it – any time you feel like coming over for a swim, you’ve got the key to the back gate, so just come.’
‘Thanks, Sophie, that’s very kind. To be totally honest, George told me the exact same thing the last time I saw him and I was swimming regularly before you arrived, but I stopped as soon as you set up home here. It didn’t feel right.’
‘Seriously, Dan, any time.’ She paused and fought to suppress a smile. ‘But, depending upon your attitude towards such things, it might be wise to whistle as you approach the pool as Rachel has a habit of sunbathing topless and I wouldn’t want to shock you.’
He threw his head back and laughed. ‘I don’t shock that easy, but I’ll make sure I whistle from now on.’
It occurred to Sophie that here she was, behaving like the big sister again. When all was said and done, what Rachel decided to wear or not to wear was her own affair, and she made another mental note to try to treat her sister as a grown-up.
Chapter 10
Over the rest of the week Rachel – whose dinner with Dario had gone very well – continued to work in the garden. Sophie was determined to get on with selecting the replacement kitchen, feeling sure that this would take time to order and have fitted. To this end, she and Rachel drove to Alassio on the Wednesday to visit a kitchen showroom recommended by Rita and Beppe. They picked out some lovely glossy white units accompanied by grey granite worktops and the designer arranged to call round early the following week to take all the measurements, assuring them it would all be fitted well before the end of September. Sophie crossed her fingers. This was one of her uncle’s main stipulations in addition to signing in every day, which she and Rachel had been doing religiously. Things between her and Rachel appeared to be well on the way to getting back on an even keel again, not least because Sophie was making a conscious effort to be a bit less Big Sister with her. After years in that role it wasn’t easy, but she knew it was something on which she had to work if they were to co-exist peaceably.
On Thursday, Rachel and Beppe hauled a fifty-four litre damigiana of wine out of the cellar and onto a trolley and trundled it across the piazza to the priest’s house. She returned at lunchtime with bright red cheeks.
‘We had to taste it with him, after all.’
‘And he approved?’
‘From the speed with which it went down his throat, he definitely liked it. If he keeps up at that rate, I have a feeling we might have to offer him another fifty litres long before we leave.’
Sophie wasn’t surprised to see her disappear up to her room for a snooze in the afternoon. As for herself, she concentrated on her romance novel, spending a considerable amount of time browsing the internet for suitable names that would have been around seven hundred years ago. It was very unlikely that Elvis, Kylie or Kanye would have been in circulation back then. After a lot of dithering, she settled on Beatrice and Constance for the two medieval princesses. She kept on planning her book over the following days and discussing it with Rachel who came up with a number of sensible suggestions. On Friday morning, she actually sat down to start writing and got as far as opening a new Word document on the laptop. That was when her problems started.
She spent almost an hour sitting staring at the blank screen, racking her brains, before giving in and typing Title to be Decided at the top of the page and moving on to the first paragraph. One thing she remembered from Creative Writing lectures had been the vital importance of the first page, if not the very first line. And so she spent another hour making multiple stabs at producing a suitably punchy first line before deleting each attempt and trying again until she felt like screaming in sheer frustration. It was almost a relief when she heard Jeeves rise to his feet and come over to prod her with his nose.
‘Want to go out?’ His tail wagged lazily. ‘You realise you’re interrupting me in full flight, don’t you?’ The tail wagged a bit harder. ‘Well, all right, we’ll go, but it’s all your fault if this
never makes it onto the bestsellers’ list.’
It was almost lunchtime but there was no sign of Rachel in the house. Sophie found her in the front garden, dead-heading the roses. Beside her was a basket almost full of pink, red, and white petals, many burnt dry by the sun. Sophie breathed deeply. The scent all around was heavenly and the numerous bees buzzing among the blooms showed that they shared her opinion. Rachel looked up as she felt Jeeves’s nose in the small of her back.
‘Hello, dog, going for a walk?’ She swung round and ruffled his ears before switching her attention. ‘Hi, Soph, how’s the world-famous author getting on? How many thousand words have you written?’
Sophie held up her fingers in a zero sign and was about to elaborate when her phone started ringing. She pulled it out and glanced down at the screen.
‘Oh, crap.’
‘Who is it, Soph?’ Sophie’s expression must have given it away. ‘Don’t tell me… your ex from Rome?’
Sophie nodded. ‘Claudio.’ She gazed blankly at the phone without moving until, after about another dozen rings, it fell silent.
‘You’re not going to talk to him? If it was me, I’d tell him to take a flying leap… only not as politely.’
‘I’d be wasting my breath. He’s impervious to criticism. According to Mariarosa he claims he still can’t understand why I left him. He says he didn’t do anything wrong.’ Sophie felt the anger building again. ‘If you don’t count sleeping with half the women in Rome, then he didn’t.’
‘And what will you do if he suddenly pitches up here?’
Sophie shuddered. ‘Barricade myself in the castle and pour boiling oil down on him from the battlements.’