What Happens in Tuscany...

by T A Williams

  ‘I’m sure you’re going to like her.’

  It turned out that Martin liked Vicky a lot.

  After lunch in a little restaurant with magnificent views out over the Tuscan hills, and a visit to the smaller, but nonetheless very beautiful town of Certaldo, they returned to the opera singer’s villa at just before four o’clock. They found Vicky in the back garden, sunbathing on a sun bed. The tan she had acquired on the beach earlier in the week and the expensive bikini went very well together. Katie glanced across at Martin and saw that his eyes were out on stalks. She smiled to herself.

  ‘Hi, Vicky, here’s Martin.’ She led him across to greet her. ‘Mr Martin Lomas, Miss Victoria Chalker-Pyne. Say hello nicely.’

  ‘Hello, Martin.’ Vicky extended her hand. He took it and shook it formally.

  ‘Victoria, hi. Wow, Katie told me you were attractive, but she didn’t say how very attractive. I’m very pleased to meet you.’ Katie was delighted at how gallant he was being. For her part, Vicky looked charmed.

  ‘Well, if I’m allowed to compliment my friend’s boyfriend, I have to say that Katie’s description of you didn’t do you justice.’ She led the way back into the house and Katie couldn’t help noticing the way Martin’s eyes followed the sinuous movement of Vicky’s hips and bottom as she disappeared through the kitchen door. It’s always good when your friends approve of your choice of boyfriend and vice versa, but her pleasure was somewhat blunted by the expression on his face. It was not dissimilar to that of Dante when there was food in the offing.

  While Vicky went off to put on some clothes, Katie busied herself making the tea. She felt Martin come up behind her and kiss her neck. ‘What a cracker!’

  ‘I hope that’s me you’re talking about.’ She half-turned towards him. ‘It looked like you were about to climb into Vicky’s bikini out there for a moment.’

  ‘She does look rather good in it, I’ll give you that.’ He kissed her ear. ‘But I was very definitely talking to you.’

  She gave a happy sigh and then, gently, pushed him away. ‘Now, get out of the way and let me make the tea.’

  Vicky reappeared in the short denim skirt and the new T-shirt with Snoopy on it. Katie studied it critically. Yes, it was a good fit. Martin was also studying it. He was doing his best to read the words in Italian that were written just below her breasts. ‘Snoopy contro il Barone Rosso. Even I can understand that. Cool T-shirt, Vicky!’

  ‘Chosen by Katie.’ She turned to Martin. ‘Would you believe I’d never heard of Snoopy until a few short weeks ago? That’s just one of innumerable things I have to thank her for. It’s amazing how much has happened in the past twenty years that I’ve still got to discover.’ She leant forward, her elbows on the table. ‘So what do you do, Martin?’

  ‘I’m a lawyer.’ He smiled across at her. ‘I didn’t have a lot of choice in the matter. My father’s a solicitor and so’s my brother. I’ve been at it now for almost ten years.’

  ‘Do you enjoy it?’

  ‘I suppose I do. I do company law, rather than the more exciting stuff, but I suppose I do quite enjoy it. What about you? Have you considered a career?’

  Victoria smiled at him. ‘I’ve decided I want to go to university. I’ve been studying history, languages, literature and art all my life so something different might be a challenge. Do you think law might be the answer?’

  ‘If you’re not afraid of books and you’ve got a half decent memory, I’m sure you’d enjoy law. Any idea which university?’

  They chatted more about universities and then Martin changed the subject to Katie and her future. ‘So, Katie, what about you?’

  She looked across at Vicky. ‘Before too long, you aren’t going to need me any more, Vicky. Like Mary Poppins, my job is almost done.’

  ‘Mary Poppins?’

  Katie immediately saw that this was another in the Snoopy category. ‘A film. Probably not in the top 100 you need to see. Anyway, like I say, I have no doubt you could hack it on your own in the big wide world quite easily now, or if not now, then before very long.’

  Vicky looked worried, the old insecurity still visible in her eyes. ‘Hack; it means manage, right? Oh I’m not so sure about that. You’ve done ever so much in a just a few weeks, but there’s still a good long way to go.’ Vicky suddenly remembered something. ‘By the way, Rosina came along just after lunch to say that it looks as though the paparazzi have finally moved on. She and Nando think we could go home tomorrow.’

  Katie was glad that the conversation had veered away from her future plans.

  ‘Anyway,’ Vicky addressed Martin. ‘I thought we could maybe have a little celebration lunch here tomorrow, before we go. I’ve invited another English friend of ours called Paul. He says he can come. Would you like to join us, Martin? You’d be very welcome.’ Katie had already asked him about this, so he was primed.

  ‘I’d love to, thank you.’ Martin glanced at his watch and pulled himself to his feet. ‘After our lunch today, and with the prospect of another big lunch tomorrow, I need some exercise. If you don’t mind, I think I’ll pop off now and run back to the hotel.’

  ‘Run all the way there?’ Katie looked at him in amazement.

  ‘It’s not that far and I’ve got to stay in shape, after all. You joining me for dinner this evening?’

  Katie nodded. ‘Something small, light and non-fattening.’

  He grinned. ‘Well, I’ll see you later on. Vicky, it was great meeting you and I look forward to seeing you again tomorrow.’ They shook hands formally. Katie picked up the remote control and accompanied him to the gate.

  ‘Are you quite sure you want to run all the way there in this heat?’ He nodded and gave her a smile.

  ‘I need the exercise.’

  ‘So do I, but I’m not crazy enough to go running when it’s this hot!’ She gave him a kiss and watched as he jogged off down the road.

  Back indoors, Vicky was clearing the cups into the sink.

  ‘You didn’t tell me he was so handsome. And a lawyer, too. Brains and beauty. Not bad at all.’

  ‘You left out brawn. He plays rugby. Rugby players aren’t renowned for their delicacy.’

  ‘He was very well behaved. He didn’t crack any bones when he shook hands with me and the cup handles are all intact.’ She turned towards Katie. ‘I hope he and Paul get on well tomorrow.’

  ‘I’m sure they will.’ Katie found herself wondering whether that would turn out to be the case.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  As Katie drove back with the ice cream the next day she looked at her watch. It was already a quarter to twelve. Martin had been keen to go for a long run that morning to make room for what she had warned him would probably be a huge meal. He had promised to be at the opera singer’s villa by twelve and somehow she didn’t think he would be late.

  Thought of Martin brought a smile to her face. Last night had been great. They had gone to a pizzeria where she plumped for just a pizza, in the hope of reducing her food intake. The pizzas that arrived turned out to be the size of dustbin lids and she groaned. Unfortunately, they were excellent pizzas so, inevitably, she ate too much, giving herself stomach ache again as a result. After the meal Martin suggested a walk to aid digestion and they had ended up walking for ages round the old town. They walked hand in hand and she thoroughly enjoyed herself, getting to know him better and better. And she didn’t think about Paul Taylor the whole time. When they walked back to her car, parked outside his hotel, he asked if she wanted to come in.

  She hesitated before replying. ‘Tomorrow night, Martin, I’ll be delighted to take you up on your offer.’ They had kissed and then she drove off, wondering why she hadn’t followed her instincts and accompanied him upstairs to bed. Anyway, she told herself, tonight would be different. A girl can only hold out so long.

  She bounced up the rutted road, past the gates to Vicky’s villa, the ice cream on the seat alongside her carefully secured by the safety belt. She was very pleased b
ecause both on the way down and on the way up there had been no sign of paparazzi. It seemed definite, therefore, that they would be able to vacate the opera singer’s villa that evening as Nando had suggested.

  She left the gates open for Martin, parked the car and went into the house with the ice cream. As they were entertaining, Vicky had opened the front door and laid out glasses and nibbles in the smaller of the two lounges. Katie nodded approvingly as she passed along the corridor. It wasn’t as magnificent as the Chalker-Pyne villa, but it was still a very lovely house. How much had Paul said a place like this was worth? It was certainly quite a few millions. She shook her head in disbelief. Although close proximity to Vicky and all her money had made Katie less sensitive to some expenditure, she still couldn’t get her head round such vast figures.

  ‘Hi, Vicky, I’m back. I’ve left the gates open for Martin and for the delivery van from the restaurant.’ Vicky had paid for the order over the phone with a debit card, but Katie had heard the amount. It was sobering to reckon that their lunch today was costing almost as much as her new computer.

  ‘Good idea. I’ve done like the man from the restaurant said and I’ve put the oven on to warm it up. I’ve prepared the table in the kitchen. That’s going to be all right, isn’t it? We don’t need to be in the dining room. If we really are moving out tonight, I didn’t want to mess up another room for poor old Rosina to clean.’

  ‘Vicky, they’re men. You could probably serve it on the floor and they wouldn’t mind, as long as there’s enough of it.’

  ‘Somehow I don’t think we’re going to go hungry. I may have been a bit excessive when I placed the order. How do I say that again? There’s an acronym, isn’t there?’

  ‘OTT, over the top.’

  ‘That’s right. I was a bit OTT. Anyway, the man kept asking me if I wanted some of this or some of that and I kept saying yes. It’s all right, though, isn’t it? You can keep food in the fridge and eat it the next day, can’t you?’

  Katie assured her that leftovers had always been a staple in her house. By the sound of it, Rosina wasn’t going to need to do any cooking for a while after they moved back to the villa. At that moment they both heard a car draw up on the gravel outside. They hurried up the corridor to find that, as Katie had predicted, it was Martin. As he extricated himself from the little hire car she saw an expression of considerable aesthetic appreciation on Vicky’s face. Katie felt a sudden glow of pride. He really was a very attractive boyfriend. Every bit as attractive as Paul Taylor.

  He emerged from the car with two large bunches of roses. Katie ran down the steps and threw her arms around his neck. She kissed him warmly and accepted one bunch of flowers with a curtsy. ‘But, Signore, you are too kind.’

  Vicky came down the steps after her. ‘Hi, Martin.’ She held out her hand and after a confused moment when Martin clearly wasn’t sure whether to shake it or deposit the flowers in it, he took her hand and shook it.

  ‘This is such a lovely place here, isn’t it?’

  ‘It is nice, isn’t it? Maybe even nicer than ours which might be a bit too big. What do you think, Katie?’

  ‘Martin, Vicky’s villa is amazing. But, of course, you’ve already seen it, haven’t you?’

  Martin laughed. ‘About all I saw was an irate Italian lady with a broom in her hand. There wasn’t a lot of time for taking in the sights.’

  ‘Well, it’s definite now.’ Vicky sounded very pleased. ‘We’ll be able to move back home tonight. You can make your own mind up about the place when you come and see us tomorrow.’ He handed over the flowers to Vicky and she led the way into the lounge and showed him to a seat. ‘I’ve got some champagne, if that’s all right.’

  ‘Champagne would be wonderful. Thank you.’ He was looking very smart and was clearly on his best behaviour. Katie could see him staring round in appreciation. Seeing Vicky at the ice bucket, he jumped to his feet. ‘Here, let me do that. Please.’ Vicky relinquished the task of opening the bottle, and went over to take a seat near Katie. As she passed her she gave a broad wink and a clandestine thumbs up. Katie smiled. Martin had definitely obtained Vicky’s seal of approval.

  Martin dealt with the bottle most efficiently and poured the wine. He handed round the glasses and, before taking his seat once more, he raised his own glass and proposed a toast. ‘Here’s to a wonderful day in the company of two lovely ladies. Victoria and Katie.’

  As they raised the glasses to their lips, a voice from behind them repeated, ‘Victoria and Katie.’

  ‘Paul, you’re here.’ Vicky spilt some of her champagne in her hurry to stand up and greet him.

  ‘And a van from Il Gallo Nero is on its way round to your kitchen door.’ He kissed Vicky on both cheeks. He didn’t come over to Katie, an odd expression on his face. She had a sudden intuition that Marco had talked about Martin. The two men were best friends, after all.

  Katie decided to sort out the man from the restaurant. She stood up and waved her arms around a bit. ‘Hi, Paul. This is Martin. Do say hello. I’ll just go and see what we’re having for lunch. Oh and Martin, can you see that Paul gets some champagne?’

  She just glimpsed Martin advancing upon Paul with his hand outstretched before she dashed through to the kitchen and opened the back door. A man in a white uniform and chef’s hat emerged from the van and proceeded to bring in enough food for a very hungry family for a week. There was roast pork, an enormous roast duck, a pile of sausages, chops and other roast meats. There was a tray of assorted bruschetta, a tub of olives and slices of polenta with melted cheese. There was an enormous foil container of roast potatoes and other roast vegetables. She just about managed to find space on the table for it all. She gave the man a ten Euro tip and showed him out. His buon appetito echoed around the room.

  ‘Bloody hell, how many people are coming to lunch?’ She felt Martin’s arms around her waist and leant back against him.

  ‘Vicky did say she might have been a tad OTT.’

  ‘Christ! There’s enough here for a rugby team. And I know what I’m talking about.’

  ‘Here, make yourself useful. Take this tray of bruschetta through to the lounge. We can eat them as a starter.’

  ‘First things first.’ Martin spun her round to face him and pulled her to him.’ I haven’t seen you for twelve hours.’ He gave her a long, passionate kiss, his hands pressing her body against his. She felt a wave of lust wash over her and kissed him hard in return, her hands catching and holding the back of his neck.

  ‘Oh, sorry if I’m interrupting.’ Both of them jumped at the sound of Paul’s voice. Katie stepped back in embarrassment.

  ‘Sorry, Paul. We…we haven’t seen each other for a while.’

  He gave her an embarrassed smile. ‘I tell you what, why don’t I take the bruschetta through to the lounge and leave you two lovebirds to renew your vows.’

  Martin gave him a grin. ‘I’ve already been given that job, Paul. You could bring the olives if you like.’ He winked at Katie, picked up the tray of toasted bread and headed for the lounge.

  ‘Hello, Katie. Sorry to surprise you like that. Vicky sent me through to see what was keeping you.’ His expression wasn’t his normal cheery one.

  ‘Hello, Paul.’ He was wearing a very smart white shirt and clean jeans. As always, he looked gorgeous. Katie reached out and caught him by the shoulders, pulling him close enough to kiss him on both cheeks. ‘Sorry about that.’

  He ignored her remark. ‘So, where are these olives then?’ He seemed in a hurry to get away.

  Katie picked up the tub of olives and tipped them onto a plate. She grabbed a pot of cocktail sticks and added them to the dish. ‘Here, off you go. I’ll just see if I can stick this stuff in the oven to keep warm while we eat the starters.’ He went off as directed and she did her best to squeeze as much of the feast into the warm oven as possible. When there was no way anything more would fit in, she pressed the door shut and made her way through to the lounge.

  Vicky had
managed to get herself onto the sofa with a man on either side of her. She looked remarkably cheerful and Katie realised, if she hadn’t before, that Vicky was taking to the whole socialising and flirting thing like a duck to water. Katie went over and picked up her glass. She raised it vaguely in their direction and then set it down again. For some reason the idea of alcohol didn’t appeal so much. She picked up the bottle and went round topping everybody up. Deliberately, by the time it came to her turn, there was none left. Martin jumped to his feet and came over to offer her some of his. She gave him a smile.

  ‘No thanks. If I drink too much at lunchtime I tend to fall asleep in the afternoon.’

  ‘I can’t think of a better way of spending an afternoon.’ He leant forward and kissed her softly on the forehead.

  ‘Katie, Martin, listen to this. Go on, Paul, tell them what you just said.’ Vicky sounded very excited. Katie took a seat in a big armchair and Martin perched on the arm, his thigh pressing against her arm.

  ‘Donatello’s friend at the police station told him they’ve caught up with the count.’ Katie looked up with real interest. She half-turned towards Martin and hissed.

  ‘I’ll tell you all about it in a minute.’

  Paul picked up the story. ‘Apparently he’d checked into a private nursing home in Fiesole. Ironically, it was the fact that his credit card bounced that led to his capture. The people at the home contacted the bank, who contacted the police and voilà. He’s now languishing at the Italian equivalent of Her Majesty’s pleasure. At the moment they’ve definitely got him for stealing a motor vehicle and fraud, but they may well get a lot more on him as the investigation continues.’ Paul looked across at Vicky with a smile. ‘You will no doubt be saddened to hear that his broken ankle needs to be re-broken and reset. It would appear to have taken a bit of a bash, probably when he was making his unscheduled departure for the hospital in Florence.’

  Katie gave Martin the details as Vicky passed the bruschetta around. At the end of her account, he shook his head and gave the lawyer’s opinion. ‘It’s a pity you guys don’t want to press charges against him. What he did to you, Vicky, sounds grim. Who knows what might have happened?’