What Happens in Tuscany...

by T A Williams

  ‘Yes and no. Yes, we had a lovely meal together and then we went back to his house for coffee. No, because Beatrice was there. She’s a lovely girl and I like her a lot, but tonight I would happily have throttled her. She just sat there and talked and talked. In the end I got him to bring me back here. I thought if I could get him up to my bedroom all would be well.’

  ‘So that’s why I found the two of you perched in the kitchen like a couple of teenagers?’

  Victoria looked across at her and managed to summon up a little smile. ‘Everything seemed to be going to plan by that stage.’

  ‘But then something happened after I’d left you to it?’

  Vicky gave a rueful nod. ‘He told me we had to talk.’ Katie listened closely. She knew what those words generally presaged. ‘He said he thought I was wonderful. He said he loved me. Yes, he really said he loved me.’ Katie could hear the pleasure and the pride in her voice. ‘But then he told me he didn’t want to run the risk of spoiling our friendship by rushing things.’

  Katie sat up and took notice. This was something she hadn’t been expecting and, clearly, neither had Vicky. At the same time, the more she thought about it, it was no bad thing; very much the opposite. She knew, and an intelligent man like Tom must have worked out, that Vicky was in a vulnerable position mentally and emotionally at present. In some ways, after her years of enforced isolation, she was a fifteen-year-old in a twenty-five-year-old’s body. Taking advantage of her would have been all too easy. After all, the pseudo count had almost succeeded. This readiness to take things slowly did Tom great credit. She looked across at Vicky with a smile.

  ‘I don’t know what you’re crying about. I think that’s brilliant.’ Vicky raised her head and met her eye.

  ‘You do?’

  ‘Of course I do.’ She did her best to lighten the atmosphere. ‘Listen, Vicky. They say that when God invented man, He gave him enough blood to work his brain or his penis, but not both at the same time. Tom is clearly one of the rare ones with enough blood, or at least moral fibre, to do both. He knew you were still very green at this whole relationship thing, so he backed off. And he did that out of respect and love for you. I admire that immensely.’

  ‘You do?’ Vicky’s vocabulary was sounding a bit limited.

  ‘Of course. I don’t know much about men, but I do know this. Finding a man who’s prepared to pass up a shag on a matter of principle is rare, truly rare.’

  ‘A shag?’ There was just a glimmer of a smile on Vicky’s lips now.

  ‘The act of love in its physical form. Why it should be represented in the English language by a diving seabird is one of the great unsolved mysteries of our time.’ She was delighted to see Vicky’s smile broaden so she decided to keep it light. She surveyed Vicky’s tousled appearance.

  ‘So, if he wasn’t prepared to have sex with you, how is it that you appear in my room in a state of dishabille? Your bra, for instance? Just went for a walk, did it?’ She couldn’t help smiling as she heard her mother’s voice coming out of her mouth.

  Vicky was grinning now, mischievously. ‘I thought it incumbent upon me to show him the error of his ways; show him what he was missing.’

  Katie was far too interested to even bother to comment on Vicky’s archaic choice of vocabulary. ‘And still no result?’

  ‘Well, still not the result I was hoping for, but I enjoyed myself a lot and I’m quite sure he did, too. Anyway,’ she was smiling broadly by now, ‘I think I’m getting quite good at it. It’s amazing how easy it is to turn a great strapping man into a babbling wreck.’

  ‘A rare and precious skill, Vicky. A rare and precious skill. But remember, with great power comes great responsibility. Use your powers well.’

  Chapter Twenty

  Katie rolled over and glanced up at the clock on the mantelpiece. It was almost eight o’clock. She hadn’t got to sleep until the early hours and she still felt tired now. She swept the sheets aside and dragged herself to her feet, tottered over to the window and pushed the shutters open. Sunlight flooded into the room, dazzling her at first. After a few moments she risked a glance at the sky and was delighted to see it a clear blue once more, not a cloud to be seen. Yesterday’s rain was now just a distant memory.

  ‘Knock, knock. I brought you a cup of tea.’ Vicky pushed the door open with her elbow and came in with two big cups in her hands. ‘Here.’ She passed one over to Katie. ‘Sleep well?’

  ‘Mmh. All right, just not enough, and you?’ Katie sat back down on the edge of the bed and patted the mattress beside her. ‘No bad dreams?’

  Vicky sat down and grinned. ‘Dreams, yes. Bad dreams, no. Rather stimulating, actually. And thanks as always, Katie, for being a shoulder to cry on last night.’ She took a sip of her tea. ‘So when do I get to meet the famous Martin?’ After she had managed to restore Vicky’s good humour the previous night, Katie had told her all about Martin’s unexpected arrival. Before she could reply, Vicky continued. ‘By the way, I’ve invited Paul Taylor to lunch tomorrow. He said he wanted to talk to me. Do you think your Martin might like to join us?’

  ‘You mean lunch here?’ Katie was worried. ‘What are we going to prepare for them? Have we got food in the fridge?’

  ‘Calm down, Katie, it’s all under control. Rosina told me that the restaurant down the hill will deliver stuff. We’ll cheat! I’ve got the number, as soon as you tell me if we’re three or four people, I’ll give them a ring and place an order. Simple, see?’

  ‘That’s brilliant. And I can pop down the hill in the car tomorrow morning and pick up a bucket of ice cream from the little shop on the corner.’

  ‘So, are we three or are we four?’

  ‘Four, definitely. I’ll give Martin a call in a minute, but I know he’ll say yes.’ She paused, sipping her tea. She had even been thinking about seeing whether he could come and stay with them in the villa. She finally came to a decision. Bringing him up to the villa to sleep would not be a good idea for a number of reasons. First, this wasn’t even their villa. The opera singer’s daughter in Milan had very kindly let them use it as a bolt hole, but it would be taking advantage of her kindness to introduce a third person. Second, given the rather frustrating end to Vicky’s evening with Tom, it could appear callous, or at least bad manners, for her to introduce her sort of boyfriend to the mix. And, of course, this was her place of work. And last was the fact that Katie just didn’t know how things were going to progress with Martin, given the spectre of Paul Taylor that continued to rear its not so ugly head. Maybe keeping Martin at arm’s length wasn’t such a bad idea.

  She stood up. ‘I’m going to wash my hair. If it’s all right with you, I said I’d spend some time with Martin today.’

  ‘Of course it’s all right. I’ve got loads to do here, specially if we’re pretty close to packing up and heading back to our villa again.’

  ‘Well, if you’re sure, I’ll take him out for lunch. How about if I bring him back here for tea this afternoon? That way you can meet him.’

  ‘That would be simply splendid.’

  Katie gave her a stern look. ‘What’s all this “simply splendid” stuff, Vicky? I thought I’d weaned you out of your Jane Austen phase. So, what should you have said?’ Her face relaxed into a grin.

  ‘That would be awesome! Or, maybe, that would be bloody great!’ She grinned back at Katie. ‘See, I do my homework, I promise. Well, I’m off for a bath. If you’re going down for breakfast, there’s a hungry dog in the kitchen. Don’t let him fool you. He’s already had a whopping great slice of bread.’

  ‘That’s an idea.’ Katie sat up. ‘I’ll take Dante for a quick walk first. That’ll clear my head and maybe even work off a few calories. Big dinner last night, lunch out today, big lunch here tomorrow. I’m going to have to be careful. It is still bikini weather after all.’

  ‘I was thinking about that. I think I’ll ask Nando if he could get a swimming pool installed before next summer.’ As she said it, Katie found hersel
f wondering where she would be, and with whom, if anybody, by then.

  ‘Great idea.’

  After Vicky had left, Katie threw on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt and headed downstairs. As ever, she received a warm welcome from the dog. She grabbed an apple from the bowl and they headed for the gates. Dante stayed close to her. They had already established that he got all discarded apple cores, so he knew what would be coming his way in due course.

  She came out of the gates and crossed the road with the intention of setting off along the path through the olives, but realised immediately that this was not a good idea. The earth had turned to thick mud. Somebody, maybe a hunter, had been down there not too long before and his boot prints were fully six inches deep. Indeed, from the disturbance in the mud as the path turned steeply downwards, it looked as though the unfortunate man had lost his footing entirely. Instead, she decided to stick to the road for once. She turned left and headed downhill.

  After the previous day’s rain, the air was clear and the view all the way across the valley to the mountains was amazing. Up till then, all she had been able to see had been vague outlines in the haze. Off to her right, the whole of Florence was visible with unusual clarity. She would have kept her eyes glued to the view, except that she needed to watch where she was putting her feet. The numerous potholes were full of water and some, she knew, were easily ankle-deep.

  She was halfway down the hill when she saw a vehicle coming up the road towards her. She recognised it as Nando’s little van. He stopped as he came level with her. The dog, recognising his master, trotted over and stood up on his hind legs, black nose and pink tongue sticking into the driver’s window.

  ‘Dante, careful now, you’ll mess up my nice clean van.’ After driving up the muddy road, the sides of Nando’s van were indistinguishable in colour from the road surface. There was little the dog could do to make it any dirtier. ‘Good morning, Katie. Everything all right with the two of you? I won’t shake your hand because my hands are a bit grubby.’ His hands and the steering wheel itself were pretty much the same colour as the road as well. Katie gave him a smile.

  ‘Fine thanks. By the way, Nando, when do you think we can safely return to the villa? I didn’t see any paparazzi last night. Were there any there this morning?’ He shook his head.

  ‘No, not a soul. And the rain has saved me a job by washing all the mess they left behind them down the road.’ He grinned up at her. ‘Now it’s the local authorities who have to clean it up.’ He didn’t have a lot of time for local government so he clearly saw this as a minor triumph. ‘As for coming home, I don’t see why you girls can’t come back today, or let’s say tomorrow to be on the safe side. We’ll maybe leave the BMW in the barn for now, seeing as you’ve got the rental car. I tell you what, I’ll check again on my way home this evening. If there are still no photographers around, I’ll get Rosina to make up your beds again and you can come back home tomorrow. How does that sound?’

  Katie nodded enthusiastically and he drove off up the hill. As she continued her path down to the fountain, she reflected upon the fact that this would remove one of the three reasons she had formulated for not inviting Martin to the villa. Still, she thought to herself, that left at least two good reasons.

  ‘Oh Katie, how are you?’ She turned as she heard the voice. It was Marco. He was standing alongside his car, the door open. Either he had just arrived or he was just on his way out.

  ‘Hi, Marco.’ She crossed the road towards him and looked critically at his spotless red Alfa Romeo sports car. No question; he was on his way out. ‘I’m afraid your nice clean car isn’t going to look so good by the time you get down the hill.’

  He was wearing a very smart dark suit, collar and tie, the outfit completed by shiny black shoes. He could have come straight out of an after shave advert. Idly, she wondered how many girls had been disappointed to learn of his sexual orientation. There was no doubt about it, he was a very good-looking man.

  ‘You’re looking extremely smart today, Marco.’

  ‘Thank you, my dear, but it’s for a funeral, I’m afraid.’ He looked down at his nice clean car. ‘It’s a shame, but I’m afraid the car’s going to have to get me there. Anyway, it’s only a bit of mud. What’s that compared to the good that rain will have done our olives and our vines? I saw Paul half an hour ago and he told me the trees were all in dire need of water.’ He gave her a smile. ‘He also told me you had a trip to the seaside together.’

  ‘That’s right. Did he say he enjoyed it?’

  Marco nodded. ‘He told me you looked really good in a bikini.’ He sighed and flicked a lock of hair out of his eyes. ‘But I could have told him that. It’s all in the bone structure, you know. A face can tell you a lot about a body.’

  ‘Oh Marco, you say the nicest things.’ She fluttered her eyebrows at him seductively and grinned. He subjected her to close scrutiny.

  ‘You’re looking and sounding very perky this morning. If I didn’t know better, I’d say it’s because you’ve been doing something very, very naughty, and I’m not talking about eating chocolate. So, have you been a naughty girl?’

  ‘Me, naughty?’ Her grin broadened as she added, out of mischief ‘Although my English boyfriend did just arrive last night.’

  ‘Oh dear, oh dear. You’ve got yourself another man. You’re trying to drive Paul crazy with jealousy, aren’t you?’

  ‘Crazy?’

  ‘We Latins, we are such jealous lovers. He’ll probably leap off a cliff when I tell him this.’

  Katie subjected him to a hard look. ‘He’ll do no such thing, Marco. First, he has nothing to be jealous about. Nothing has happened between us yet, and, anyway, only half of him is Latin. Second, he’s far too sensible a man to do something like that and third, because you’re not going to tell him about Martin. Capito?’

  ‘I’ll do my best, carissima, but I’m not very good with secrets.’

  ‘Well, just try.’

  By this time, Katie had completely forgotten that her intention had been to ask him if Loretta’s surname was Moretti. By the time it occurred to her, he was already in the car. He gave her a little wave and blew her a kiss.

  ‘Ciao, bella.’

  ‘Ciao, Marco.’ She could almost hear him wince as the car nosed out into the puddles and muddy water splashed up onto the bonnet. As she walked on down the road she realised that Paul Taylor was going to meet Martin the next day at lunch. More worrying was the fact that once again she had inserted that little word “yet” into a sentence about her and Paul Taylor. Just where was this all leading her?

  Chapter Twenty-One

  She drove up to the hotel just after ten o’clock and found Martin standing outside on the pavement with a broad smile on his face.

  He climbed into the passenger seat and reached over to kiss her. He looked and felt very good and he smelt fresh and clean. She relaxed against him and enjoyed what turned out to be a long, passionate kiss. In his arms, the doubts she had been experiencing seemed to melt away. When they finally separated, she kept tight hold of him and looked deep into his eyes.

  ‘I am so very glad you came to see me. Very glad indeed.’ And she meant it.

  ‘Me, too.’

  She reached down and caught his left knee with her hand. ‘So, where would you like to go? Do you know Florence, or this part of Tuscany?’

  ‘Florence, yes. I’ve been there a couple of times; first on a school trip and the second time only last year.’ He grinned at her. ‘It was part of our rugby tour, so I maybe didn’t see quite as much of the historical stuff as I should have done. My lasting memory is of scoring a try under the posts. And, yes, we beat the crap out of them.’

  ‘So, how about this for a plan? If you haven’t seen it, you really should visit San Gimignano and maybe one or two of the other medieval towns nearby. We can stop off somewhere for some lunch and then, if you’re up for it, we’ll call back to the villa this afternoon for tea. That way, I can introduce you to Vick
y.’ She squeezed his knee before releasing it ‘How does that sound?’

  ‘You are the best tour guide ever. I put myself entirely in your hands.’

  The drive into the hills south west of Florence took them through Montespertoli where Tom had been staying. Katie even spotted their house off to one side as they drove through. She did her best not to think of any other men. Today would be all about her and Martin. The sky had returned to clear blue and the views were delightful. They drove straight to the hilltop town of San Gimignano and managed to find a space in the packed car park. Rows of coaches occupied the coach park and their occupants had spread throughout the town. Katie and Martin walked in through the old gates and fought their way through the crowds in the main street.

  ‘Popular place.’ Katie was hanging onto Martin’s arm, partly out of affection and partly so as to capitalise on his strength to bulldoze a way through. She smiled up at him.

  ‘Anybody who’s anybody has to visit San Gimignano. I tell you what, though; we’ll forget the idea of stopping here for lunch. Seeing as we’ve got the car, we’ll look for somewhere a bit quieter outside of town.’

  ‘Fancy an ice cream to be getting on with?’

  They walked around the beautiful, if claustrophobic, town for almost an hour, ate ice creams and just enjoyed each other’s company. He was very impressed with the town and with her.

  ‘You love it here in Tuscany, don’t you? I can see you made a great career choice.’

  She grinned up at him. ‘Yes, but I fear it’s going to be a very short career. The way Vicky’s taken to all things twenty-first century, I don’t think it’ll be long before she doesn’t need me any more.’ She paused, saddened by the thought. ‘I tell you this, though, Martin, I really hope she and I stay friends. I really do think of her as a very good friend, one of my very best friends.’

  ‘I’m looking forward to meeting her.’