by T A Williams
‘Thank you so much for a really, really lovely day.’ Vicky scrambled out of the car and stood there, still half-asleep, looking a lot younger than her twenty-five years. Katie grinned. All she needed was a teddy bear or a comfort blanket in her hand and a thumb in her mouth and she could have passed for a little girl.
Paul climbed out and went round to the boot. He opened it and a shaft of light illuminated the gravel drive around the car. Katie collected herself and got out in her turn. The girls gathered all their stuff together and turned towards the villa. Vicky managed to rouse herself sufficiently to ask Paul in for a coffee.
‘Thanks for the offer, but I’ve got to go.’ He glanced at Katie. ‘Thanks for staying awake to keep me company.’
‘The very least I could do while Sleeping Beauty here was snoring the place down.’
‘I wasn’t!’
Paul was quick to reassure her. ‘No, of course you weren’t. Now good night to you both.’
Katie waited until Vicky had hugged and then kissed him, before stepping up and kissing him on both cheeks. Once again she felt a slight tightening of his grip on her arms as she did so. She watched the red tail lights of the car disappear up the drive and she sighed for what might have been.
Chapter Eighteen
‘That was a good night’s sleep.’ Katie looked up from her book as Vicky came into the kitchen. She glanced at the clock and back to Vicky. ‘It’s gone nine. You missed Nando. He was here half an hour ago with food and more wine.’ She slipped an old train ticket into her book and let it close as she looked up at Vicky. ‘I don’t know how much he thinks we’re going to get through, but he’s brought another twelve litres.’
Vicky laughed. It was a good, happy laugh. Katie scrutinised her face. Any residual effects of her ordeal at the hands of the pseudo count appeared to have been extinguished. Vicky smiled down at Katie. ‘I’m going to make some tea. Want some?’
Katie nodded and stretched. She hadn’t slept as well as Victoria would appear to have done. Blame for her insomnia could not fairly be laid at the door of the fritto misto. What had kept her awake had been the feel of his lips on her face. That and the sense of irritation that a man already in a relationship should think he could kiss her and, worse still, that she had let him. And, if she were totally honest, that she had enjoyed it. She snorted and ran her fingers through her hair. In spite of the shower she had taken before going to bed, there was still sand in there. She caught Vicky’s eye. ‘Sand. You still covered in it?’
Vicky grinned broadly. ‘You wouldn’t believe where I’ve got sand. My sheets felt like sandpaper this morning.’ She scratched her head as she poured the water into the teapot. She placed it on the table and went to the fridge for milk. ‘Wow, smell those melons.’
The previous day, as they left the beach, they had stopped at the melon farm and bought a tray of melons. The old farmer had helpfully selected some that were already ripe, as well as some that would keep. These were on the floor in the larder, while the ripe ones were producing the amazing perfume in the fridge.
‘I hope Paul remembered to put his melons in the fridge last night.’ Vicky smiled at the thought. ‘They’ll go off in no time if he forgets.’
Katie refused to let the mention of his name start her mind churning once more. ‘You’ll be glad to hear that Nando brought us clean sheets from Rosina this morning, so ours can go off and be washed. I can drop them in to her a bit later on.’
Vicky sat down and poured the tea. She handed a cup across the table to Katie. ‘So, what’s the plan for today? Are you going into town to buy a new phone?’ She paused, her expression less happy. ‘I wish I could go shopping. Bloody newspapers!’
‘There’s a bit of good news on that score. Nando said there are only two or three photographers left down by the gate this morning. And he says that ever since he went out rabbit hunting the other night, they’ve stopped trying to come up to the villa.’ She glanced at Vicky with an encouraging smile. ‘So you should be able to pick up your life again any day now.’
‘So what about today?’ Vicky picked up her phone and glanced at the screen. ‘Oh, look, there’s a message here from Tom. He wants to have dinner with me again.’ She caught Katie’s eye. ‘I would really enjoy another evening with him. Would you like to come?’ In spite of the polite offer, Katie could quite clearly see that her company was definitely not wanted.
‘Well, I’m certainly not coming along to play gooseberry. I’m sure you’ll have a really good time together.’
‘Are you sure? It feels a bit mean of me to just go off with Tom and leave you all alone here.’
‘That’s perfectly all right. If I go into town today and buy a new phone, I can play with that all evening.’ She sensed that Vicky had got something on her mind. ‘Is there a problem?’ To her surprise Vicky blushed bright red.
‘Erm, I was just thinking to myself that tonight might turn out to be a very special night.’ She caught Katie’s eye. ‘Tom’s a very nice man and a very handsome man. I was thinking that he and I might…’ Her voice petered out, but Katie had already grasped what was on her mind. She sat back and reflected before replying. For a moment, a hazy image of her friend Melanie’s brother crossed her mind, closely followed by a frighteningly graphic picture of herself with her head down Melanie’s toilet being sicker than she had ever been before or since. If she were able to trade first times, then a handsome army officer, a bed in an old stone farmhouse and a Tuscan sunset beat the hell out of Melanie’s mum’s spare bedroom. She looked across the kitchen table at her friend and smiled at her.
‘Go for it, girl.’
They were interrupted by a familiar scratching at the door. Vicky got up and opened it for the dog. He came in very cheerfully and so thoroughly licked their hands that they both had to head for the sink to clean up after him. Katie gave him the last of yesterday’s loaf and he set about demolishing it on the kitchen floor. By this time, Vicky had been able to collect herself and she watched him in fascination.
‘It’s a pretty good life for old Dante, isn’t it? Everybody around here knows him. He gets lots of handouts. I can’t understand why he isn’t as fat as a pig.’
‘Don’t forget, he goes for lots and lots of walks. In fact,’ Katie checked the time, ‘I might go for a walk with him this morning. What are you doing? Want to come?’ Vicky shook her head.
‘No, thanks, I’m feeling lazy this morning. I think I’ll sit here, drink coffee and consider my plan of attack for tonight.’ She looked up with a grin. ‘I was just thinking, Tom’s got a lovely hairy chest. And his legs, too.’ Her eyes went misty. ‘Isn’t it funny that body hair is sexy on men, but not on women?’
After the broken night she had had, Katie really didn’t want to get drawn into too much consideration of hairy chests, whoever they might belong to. She finished her tea and stood up. ‘Talking of body hair, now it’s time for a walk with my big hairy pal here.’ She looked down at the dog. ‘Tom’s not the only one with a hairy chest around here.’ The dog, aware he was being addressed, stretched his legs and emitted a cavernous yowl. ‘You see, I told you he understands English.’
They had lunch together and then Katie left Victoria experimenting with nail varnish. She decided to leave the car at home and so she once again walked down to the station. As she was going past Nando’s house she remembered she had promised to drop the dirty sheets in to Rosina. She made a mental note to do that when she came back.
This time her arrival at the station in Florence was without incident. She followed the stream of people down into the underpass that led beneath the wide Piazza Stazione to the other side. When she emerged into the suffocating heat once more she started making her way up through the crowds towards the cathedral. She soon found a phone shop and set about buying a replacement for her stolen one. As her old one had been fairly ancient, she found the wealth of new features on the newer models quite bewildering, especially when described in a foreign language. In the end sh
e bought the same type as Victoria’s. That way, Vicky the student could become Vicky the teacher and help Katie find her way around twenty-first century technology. Katie found herself smiling. The irony of the change in status was not lost on her.
Leaving the air-conditioned shop and walking back out into the stifling heat was like being physically hit in the face. She checked her watch and saw that it was barely half past three. There would be a train home at six so she decided to do a bit of shopping first. Since starting work with Victoria, her hefty salary had been piling up in the bank and she had hardly spent a thing. She headed in the direction of the Ponte Vecchio, diving in and out of shops on the way, as much for the aircon as for the merchandise. She bought some new sandals, new shorts and a very short, tight-fitting summer dress. She spent a long time in a T-shirt store and ended up buying a couple. One was a Snoopy in Italy shirt for Vicky and one with a reproduction of the poster to be found all over the place warning of pickpockets for herself.
After her shopping spree, she still had time to walk around, checking out a few English language schools whose addresses she had taken from the phone book. She had been amazed to find over twenty different establishments claiming to teach English. Her little tour proved to be very interesting in helping her identify which might offer potential job prospects. She actually went into the two largest and picked up brochures, In one, in particular, she met a man little older than she was who turned out to be the Director of Studies. He had been very interested to hear of her background and asked her to make an appointment for an interview as he was actively looking for staff to begin in September. She came out well pleased and looked at her watch again. It was a quarter to six so she gathered up her purchases and hurried back to the station.
As she waited on the platform for her train to arrive, she felt the first drop of rain on her face. By the time she got back to Monte a Signa, it was coming down like stair rods. This continued all the way back up the road from the station. Unsurprisingly, the downpour had, at least, had the advantage of finally chasing off the last of the paparazzi. The entrance to the Chalker-Pyne villa looked empty once more, apart from the mass of cigarette ends strewn all around.
Katie was completely drenched by the time she got back to the opera singer’s villa. The temperature had dropped a good few degrees and the air, as she walked in under the thick canopy of trees, was pleasantly cool. She let herself in through the kitchen door and found Vicky in the final stages of getting ready for her dinner date with Tom. She had washed her hair and was wearing one of the new dresses she had bought in Exeter. That seemed a long time ago now. She was wearing sandals and Katie couldn’t help noticing that her toenails had been painted in a variety of different colours. Strangely, the effect was quite good. Vicky spotted the direction of her eyes and explained.
‘I was playing about a bit. I couldn’t make up my mind which colour looked best. They look all right, though, don’t they?’ As Katie reassured her about her appearance, she stripped off her top and her shorts. They were completely soaked and she piled them on the draining board. Luckily the plastic shopping bags had served as a refuge for her purse and the precious new smart phone. She pulled out the Snoopy T-shirt and passed it over to Vicky. It was only slightly damp.
‘Here, arguably the most famous cartoon character of the 20th century. I hope it fits.’ She waved away Vicky’s thanks and headed upstairs to her room. She stripped off her wet underwear and stepped into the shower. When she came out, she then fiddled around for some time, trying on her new clothes and checking her appearance in the mirror. All in all, she approved of her choice and reckoned she looked pretty good, particularly in the flowery yellow dress. It really was very short, but she felt that her legs, now they had a bit of tan on them, deserved to be on display. Well pleased, she changed into the new shorts and an old T-shirt.
By the time she came down again, glad to be clean and dry once more, Tom had just arrived. He was in the process of giving Vicky a kiss that went a long way further than normal Italian etiquette demanded. Katie paused at the kitchen door and cleared her throat. ‘Excuse me, Victoria, there appears to be something on the end of your tongue.’ Before Vicky could reply, she affected surprise. ‘Oh, it’s you, Tom.’ The couple broke up a little self-consciously. Tom came over and kissed Katie on both cheeks.
‘Hi, Katie. Get your new phone?’
Mention of phones reminded Katie to pass on her new number to them. Until a replacement SIM card arrived from the UK, she had simply bought an Italian pay as you go card. They all exchanged numbers.
‘So where are you two lovebirds off to tonight?’ Katie filled the kettle and turned it on. ‘Tea anybody?’ They both shook their heads and Tom explained their plans.
‘Well, the idea was to go for another picnic, but the weather is just ever so slightly against us.’ The noise of the rain outside on the path, as the gutters high above overflowed, was deafening even from in here. ‘The paparazzi would seem to have finally legged it, so the new plan is to go to a little restaurant near my place and then go back home for a coffee.’ Remembering his manners, he asked. ‘If you’d like to join us…’
Katie shook her head and couldn’t miss the relief on both faces. ‘I’ve got to drop the dirty laundry down to Rosina and then it’s a quiet night in, playing with my new toy.’ She indicated the smart phone on the table. Tom’s grinned at her.
‘Good luck with that. Did you know that there’s more computing power in that little piece of kit than in the whole of the Apollo spacecraft that landed on the moon? I wish you hours of fun with it.’ He turned to Vicky and glanced at his watch. ‘Shall we make a move? I’m getting hungry.’
‘You men are always hungry.’
‘Well, we are in Italy after all.’
Katie waved them out of the kitchen. ‘Buon appetito.’ She glanced at Vicky who was looking happy and particularly excited. ‘Got an umbrella?’
‘Certainly have. See you later.’ Victoria caught Tom’s eye and then looked back at Katie. ‘Don’t wait up.’
After the door had closed on them, Katie made herself a cup of tea and found a packet of cantuccini biscuits. She dunked a couple in her tea and nibbled them as she reflected on what she had to do next. Once she had finished her tea, she went upstairs and collected the pile of dirty laundry for Rosina. She stuffed the bundle of sheets into a big bag and went back to the kitchen. Grabbing an old umbrella from the hall, she made a run for the car. The rain was still pouring down, but not quite as hard as before. The road outside the gates was, as Paul Taylor had warned, running with water and mud. The little Fiat seemed to grip quite well all the same, so she turned left and drove slowly and carefully down to Rosina and Nando’s house. She went round to their kitchen door and parked right outside. The noise of the car alerted somebody inside and she heard a cavernous woof. Seconds alter, the door was opened by Rosina. Beside her the Labrador was wagging his tail furiously.
‘Come in, come in.’ She spotted the laundry. ‘You needn’t have bothered, Katie. There was no rush.’ She closed the door and took the bundle from her.
‘I’ve never heard Dante bark before. That was very impressive.’ Katie found herself on the receiving end of a boisterous reception by the big dog. She looked across at Rosina as she patted him. ‘I hope he’s not expecting me to take him for a walk in this weather.’ Rosina laughed.
‘Feel his coat. He’s bone dry. This must be the only Labrador in the world who doesn’t like water. Can I offer you anything? Some coffee or maybe a glass of wine?’
Katie accepted the offer of coffee gratefully and sat and chatted to Rosina as she filled the little pot and stuck it on the gas. Soon the wonderful aroma spread around the kitchen.
‘As I came up from the station, it looked to me as if the last of the paparazzi have finally left.’
Rosina had busied herself putting cups, saucers, sugar and biscuits onto a tray so she spoke over her shoulder. ‘That’s what Nando said. If they don’t return
when the rain stops, I think you girls can come back home. Mind you, they’ve tried all sorts to get in here. One pretended to have come from the water company about a leak. Nando told him we are on a well here and shooed him off. Then there was the one who pretended to be a postman, the one Nando found hiding in the woodshed, and just this afternoon there was an Englishman who claimed to be your long-lost boyfriend. At least I think that’s what he was trying to say, but my English isn’t very good these days. I used to speak it better back when Sir Alger…’
‘My long-lost boyfriend, did you say, Rosina?’ Katie’s ears had pricked up at this. ‘He used my name, not Victoria’s? But I didn’t think anybody knew about me being here.’ This was serious. Maybe she would also have to start keeping a low profile after all.
‘Now you come to mention it, that is a bit strange. He definitely asked for you, not Victoria.’ Rosina arrived with the tray and started unloading food and drink onto the table. ‘Mind you, he was a handsome young man, all right. Shame about his nose, though. I think he must have had an accident, or been in a figh…’
‘His nose? Did he have a broken nose?’ Katie sat upright in surprise and caught her breath. ‘Was he a tall man, sort of my age, broad shoulders and short brown hair?’
Rosina nodded, an expression of concern crossing her face. ‘Oh dear, so you do know him? Is that true what he told me? Is he really your long-lost boyfriend?’
Katie nodded. ‘Sort of…um, yes, I suppose he is, really.’ If Rosina noticed her hesitation she was kind enough not to remark upon it. ‘Have you any idea where he is now? Did he leave an address or anything?’ Could Martin really have come all the way over here without contacting her? No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than she realised that he might well have been trying to call her for days, but her bloody phone… ‘Did he say he’d come back?’