Second Chances in Chianti (Escape to Tuscany Book 2)

by T A Williams

  Back at the house, she showered and changed, and settled down to check her emails and messages. Unsurprisingly, after Carrie’s bombshell, there were a lot of them. One was even from her mum, asking if she had seen the news. Alice replied, trying to make light of it and telling her that she was looking forward to seeing her the following day. The others were from a variety of people – among them, a long grovelling one from Richie, addressed to her and all the others who had been at the villa last week. She nodded to herself as she read how Carrie had been so furious at his treatment of her that she had taken her story and her photos to a friend in the media. Alice didn’t reply. Somehow she felt sure even Benny would have been impressed at her choice of vocabulary if she had done. Instead, she deleted the email and did her best to put that imbecile Richie out of her mind.

  There was also a message from Antonia that made interesting reading. Although it was brief and she didn’t go into detail, she confirmed that the outcome of her meetings in London over the past few days was that she and two other partners were setting up a brand-new production company. There was a throwaway line towards the end indicating that they might even have a job for Alice in the future. Although all Alice’s efforts were concentrated on tomorrow’s interview in London, it was reassuring to know that she might still have a second chance to get back into TV, if she ever changed her mind or if the auction house job didn’t work out.

  Chapter 15

  Alice got up early next morning and drove to Florence airport, leaving her car in the parking lot. The flight was uneventful and the temperature in London about ten degrees cooler than in Tuscany. She was at the auction house in good time for her two o’clock appointment, feeling a bit nervous but hoping for the best.

  It soon transpired that her hopes were misplaced.

  She was shown into the office of the stern-looking lady from the original interview panel, who was sitting at her desk with Tobias double-barrelled standing at her shoulder and looking chronically embarrassed. His female colleague had no such qualms. She reached into a drawer, produced a copy of one of this morning’s gaudier tabloids and pushed it across the desk towards Alice.

  ‘Your fame precedes you, Dr Butler.’ Her voice was sour, but with just a hint of barely concealed gloating in the background. ‘I’m sorry to bring you all the way from Italy for this, but it only came to our attention this morning and, of course, it was too late to contact you. I’m instructed to thank you for your interest in our firm but to tell you that we have offered the position to another candidate.’ She tapped the newspaper with a chubby finger. ‘I’m afraid this is not the sort of image we wish to portray here.’

  Her finger had landed on that same damn photo taken by Carrie – alongside it, in case the reader didn’t immediately recognise the British star of Pals, the newspaper had put together a little collage of thumbnails of Alice back in her Polly days. Needless to say, the photos they had chosen were mostly those in which she was wearing scanty outfits. Alice looked up again and was about to launch into a spirited defence of herself, but the expression on the woman’s face said it all. She wasn’t getting the job and that was that. She met the woman’s gaze and nodded a couple of times.

  ‘I understand. I think you’re making a big mistake, but I thank you and your colleagues for your time. Goodbye.’ She turned on her heel and marched towards the door. Tobias double-barrelled hurried around to open it for her and he followed her out. Closing the door behind him, he gave her a sympathetic look.

  ‘I’m very sorry, Dr Butler. Believe me, I tried to fight your corner, but it was a lost cause, I’m afraid. It was two against one and I lost.’ As they walked back along the corridor to the stairs, he lowered his voice. ‘Between you and me, we all know you were the better candidate for the position. I’m sorry.’ He looked so miserable, Alice almost gave him a hug. Instead, she held out her hand and did her best to rise above it.

  ‘Thank you, Tobias, that’s kind.’

  They shook hands and she left.

  At her mother’s house in Crouch End she drank a lot of tea and received a lot of sympathy. As the afternoon progressed, Alice gradually recovered and managed to stop imagining ways of murdering both Carrie and Richie – preferably slowly and painfully. The one good thing about this disclosure was that she had barely had time to think about David and his betrayal, and she was genuinely able to tell her mother that she was glad their relationship was over. Interestingly, her mother revealed that she had never liked him much anyway.

  A bottle of Chianti Classico, bought that morning at Florence airport, further helped to restore Alice’s equilibrium, and she started telling her mother about the house she had rented, the village, the local restaurant and the beauty of the surrounding countryside. As the bottle emptied, she eventually found herself talking about Matt and his dog, and she spotted considerable interest on her mum’s face.

  ‘So, are you telling me he lives alone in an old tower with just a dog for company? What’s wrong with the man?’ Her mother’s brow furrowed. ‘You don’t think he’s some sort of crazy person, do you?’

  ‘He’s no crazier than I am.’ Alice omitted to mention that she had just spent several hours in the afternoon dreaming up ways of wreaking mortal revenge on Richie and Carrie. ‘I honestly have no idea whether he lives alone or not. For all I know he might be married with six kids, but somehow I don’t think so.’

  ‘And is he renting the tower or does he own it?’

  ‘According to Paolo, the guy who looks after the villa, he owns it.’

  ‘And would I be right in thinking that medieval towers in Tuscany don’t come cheap?’ Alice nodded. ‘So where did he get all his money from?’

  ‘I’ve only just met the guy, Mum. I can hardly start asking that sort of thing. Maybe he won the lottery or something. Maybe his parents were loaded. I don’t know.’

  ‘So, what are you planning on doing about him?’

  ‘Well, I’m hoping to see him again, obviously. After that, we’ll just have to wait and see if anything develops.’

  ‘And you really don’t think he knows who you are?’

  ‘I honestly don’t. Of course, it’s possible that by the time I get back he may have seen my photo in the news but, as of yesterday, no, I don’t think he has any idea.’ She looked over at her mum and grinned. ‘If I’m honest, I suppose that’s also part of his attraction. For years now I’ve been fighting to get people to see beyond Polly and her low-cut tops. At least if he does like me, it’s got to be for the real me, not a fictitious TV character.’

  * * *

  She flew back to Florence on Friday afternoon and picked up her car at the airport. She had arranged to meet Teresa from the Uffizi Gallery for a drink before driving back home and she was lucky enough to find a parking spot in the centre of town, not far from the station. She walked into the centro storico via the San Lorenzo market, pushing her way through the crowds, her bag firmly clutched in both hands. As ever, the shops and stalls lining the streets sold all manner of things, especially souvenirs and items for tourists, ranging from T-shirts to umbrellas – not that umbrellas were likely to be wanted in today’s baking heat.

  She stopped at one stall and bought her mum a new purse, and then found a lovely old-style hardware shop and bought a good corkscrew to replace the one in her little house, which looked as though it was not long for this life. She also bought a little packet of wedge-shaped corks so she could seal wine bottles after opening them, thus avoiding waste or being forced to drink a whole bottle in one go. As she had discovered to her cost after opening Signor Innocenti’s bottle of sparkling wine, there was no way that sort of cork would go back in again once it had come out and expanded.

  Well pleased with her purchases, she headed for her meeting with Teresa. As she passed a little shop dedicated to pet supplies, something caught her eye. It was a smart-looking red dog collar with the words dog and cane embossed on it in a never-ending loop. On an impulse, she stopped to ask the man if it would
fit a Labrador and when he confirmed this, she bought one for Guinness. This, she told herself, would show Matt that she had been thinking about him – or his dog, at least.

  She met up with Teresa in the same cafe as before, and they sat in the shade for a drink and a chat. Since she was driving, Alice opted for an ice-cold mineral water, while Teresa ordered a glass of Prosecco. It was a lovely way to end the day and they chatted about all sorts of things. Needless to say, they also discussed Renaissance art, and this reinforced Alice’s sense of disappointment and frustration that Carrie’s revenge photos had robbed her of the chance to begin her career with the auction house. When she told Teresa the sad tale of how her hopes of that job had been torpedoed, she read sympathy on her friend’s face.

  ‘That’s their loss, Alice. Try not to let it bother you.’

  After an hour or so, Teresa had to go. ‘My husband and I are invited out for dinner tonight, so I need to get off. Maybe we could meet up with you one evening and I can get to know your other half?’

  Alice shook her head. ‘I’d love to meet your husband, but there’s no other half now, as of a few days ago.’ She shook her head in response to Teresa’s interrogative look. ‘It’s a long story. The more I think about it, though, the more I realise that it isn’t tragic. I’m definitely better off without him. So it’s just me – at least for now.’

  ‘And nobody waiting in the wings? I always imagined you’d be fighting the men off. I was watching a repeat episode of Pals Across the Pond the other night and you looked so great. You still do.’

  Alice acknowledged the compliment but added a qualification. ‘Thanks, that’s really good to hear, but don’t forget that the girl you were watching was Polly. I loved her at the time, and I have a lot to thank her for, but she still keeps on bobbing up now and then. I’ve been trying to separate myself from her for years, but her spectre comes back and bites me on the bum from time to time – like yesterday in London, for instance. No, I’m happily on my own for now.’

  Was that really true?

  Chapter 16

  As she set off on her morning run the next day, she had to smile at herself. There was no doubt she had spent almost as long getting ready for a half-hour run as for a night out. She was wearing a freshly washed top and a new pair of shorts bought specially in Florence the previous day, and she had even spent a ridiculously long time plaiting her hair. She hoped her efforts would not be wasted but, as it turned out, she could have saved herself the trouble. Although she took her time jogging up the road past the entrance to the villa and back again, there was no sign of Matt or Guinness the dog. By the time she got home and stood under the shower, she was feeling disappointed – and just a bit silly.

  Determined to give it one more try, at nine o’clock she went out to the cafe to see Rita and have a cappuccino and one of her gorgeous doughnuts. It was as she was sitting outside, enjoying the relative cool of the morning, that a familiar vehicle pulled up on the far side of the little piazza. Seconds later, a big black arrow came flying across the square and did his best to climb onto her lap.

  ‘Ciao, Guinness.’ He appeared delighted to see her, and he redoubled his efforts to reach up and kiss her. A few seconds later his master appeared but, alas, didn’t try to emulate his dog. He stopped by her table and looked down with a little smile on his face that immediately resulted in a big grin appearing on hers.

  ‘Hi, Alice. Have you been for a run this morning? Guinness and I went for a twenty-kilometre hike yesterday and I’m feeling lazy today.’

  ‘Hi, Matt. Guinness, get off, you weigh a ton.’ With the bribe of a little piece of doughnut, she persuaded the dog to settle on the ground at her feet. ‘Yes, I needed a run after two days in London.’

  ‘How did the interview go?’ So he had been listening. ‘Was it for a job?’

  ‘Yes, but I didn’t get it.’ She had no intention of going into detail about why it had gone wrong.

  ‘Shame. Still, I’m sure there’ll be others. Can I get you anything? I’m getting myself a coffee.’

  ‘No, I’ve got all I need, thanks – besides, I owe you a drink. Come and join me.’

  He glanced down at his dog who was now stretched out on his back at Alice’s feet, four paws waving in the air, grunting happily to himself. ‘It looks like Guinness has already settled in. I’ll just get a coffee and be right back.’

  He returned seconds later with a little espresso in his hands and took a seat on the other side of the table. ‘So, can I ask what sort of job you’re looking for?’

  ‘Art history. It was in an auction house in London.’ She went on to tell him about her studies and he looked impressed.

  ‘So it’s Doctor Alice I’m talking to. Good for you. But you don’t look like any art historian I’ve ever seen.’

  ‘Too young?’ She rather hoped this might elicit some sort of compliment from him, which would at least signify that he had noted her appearance, but she was to be disappointed.

  ‘I don’t know… maybe if you had glasses – on a chain hanging round your neck. A cardigan would probably help as well.’ She was delighted to see him grinning and maybe sounding a little bit cheeky.

  ‘I must remember to add a cardie to my wardrobe.’ She did her best to put him on the spot in return. ‘And what about you, Matt – what do you do, apart from going for long walks with your lovely dog and pottering about in the garden?’

  ‘That’s about it, really.’ She hoped he’d say more but she waited in vain for almost a minute, before deciding to give it one more try.

  ‘And when you aren’t walking and gardening?’

  ‘It’s quite a bit more than a garden, really. I mend a few fences, chop down a few trees, and look after my vineyard and my olive trees.’

  ‘That sounds a bit technical. Do you have an agricultural background?’

  He laughed. ‘Very much the opposite. I’m a city boy, born and bred. All I know about farming comes from the internet and from Virgilio. With his help I’ve taught myself to prune the vines and the olive trees, and so far the results are looking pretty reasonable.’ He swallowed the last of his espresso and stood up. ‘And now I’d better get back to my vines.’

  It was pretty clear he didn’t want to talk about what he did, but it would have been nice to sit and chat a bit longer. A feeling of disappointment came back again, but she suddenly remembered the dog’s collar.

  ‘By the way, I was in Florence yesterday and I picked up something for Guinness. If you can wait two minutes, I can pop back and collect it for you.’

  ‘That was kind of you. Where is it – back at your place?’

  ‘Yes, it’s just a few doors along that road over there, beyond your car. I’m here until the beginning of August.’

  ‘In that case Guinness and I will come over with you.’ Seeing her heading for the café door he added, ‘And don’t worry about my coffee. I’ve already paid for it. Don’t worry, I promise you can buy me a coffee next time.’

  ‘Next time’ sounded good to Alice and she gave him a smile before ducking her head through the doorway and waving goodbye to Rita, catching a distinct twinkle in the old lady’s eye as she saw the two of them set off together. Alice resolved to break the news to her the following morning that it wasn’t necessarily what it looked like. They walked back across the piazza, with Guinness trotting alongside his master without the need for a lead. When they reached her road, she pointed along to number 5.

  ‘It’s the one with the green door. Do you want to come in or will you wait here?’

  ‘We don’t want to disturb you. Guinness and I can wait here.’

  Alice nodded and set off for her house to get the collar. However, Guinness clearly hadn’t understood the plan, as he came running along after her and, as she opened the door, he slipped inside. Alice looked on indulgently as his Labrador appetite for food led him unerringly to the fridge, where he wedged his nose against the crack of the door and wagged his tail hopefully.

  ‘S
orry, Alice, he’s always been a nosy dog – especially if there’s food involved.’

  Alice looked round to see Matt at the front door and felt a naughty shiver of lust at the thought of inviting him into her house. No sooner did the thought occur than the realisation dawned that a large black Labrador would be on hand to observe any developments. A sudden vision of the dog, head tilted to one side as she and Matt collapsed into each other’s arms, banished the shiver of lust and replaced it with a grin. ‘Come in, by all means. Guinness doesn’t stand on ceremony and that’s just fine.’

  She hurried upstairs to her bedroom, where she had left the collar, but neither the dog nor his owner followed her – which was probably for the best. She picked up the little brown paper bag and took it back downstairs.

  ‘Here, Matt. I hope you like it. Seeing as you’re English and we’re in Italy…’

  He opened it and a genuine smile appeared on his face. ‘That’s so kind, but you shouldn’t have. I’m sure my cane will love it.’ She saw him glance around the room. ‘This place is really nice, and it’s a damn sight tidier than mine.’

  Alice saw the opportunity to do a bit of digging. ‘Haven’t you got somebody to do the housework?’ His answer wasn’t what she wanted to hear.

  ‘No, there’s just us. There’s no need.’

  Us – plural, so there was somebody else living there with him after all. Although she had feared this might be the case, she had been hoping against hope and now felt a wave of disappointment. She was debating whether she could ask for more information, without sounding too intrusive, when he saved her the trouble. His smile broadened as he reached down to ruffle the dog’s ears.