temptation in florence 05 - seaside in death

by boeker, beate

  Before Carlina could open her mouth, another tide of Mantoni family members rolled into the already overcrowded lobby. Benedetta with her children Annalisa and Ernesto and her French partner, Leopold Morin, waved at them as they rushed through the door.

  “Here we are! Finally!” Ernesto, Carlina's eighteen-year old cousin, galloped forward with a huge grin on his face. His red hair stood up in carefully arranged order, and a wave of aftershave following him as he slapped Carlina's and Stefano's shoulders. “Have you already checked in?”

  Carlina suppressed her surprise that Ernesto, who was usually one of the calmer members of the family, was taking the lead. And since when had he started to use such an overpowering aftershave? She pushed her thoughts aside. “Well, we're trying to check in.” She made sure her voice sounded dry. “But it turns out it's not as easy as we thought.”

  Signor Rosari gave her a dark look, then turned to Ernesto. “We can start right away. What's your name?”

  “Ernesto Santorini.” Ernesto beamed at him like an eager puppy.

  “Here you are.” The hotel manager picked one of the keys and slid it across the counter. “Number five.”

  “Great, thanks!” Ernesto grabbed it and turned to go.

  “But that's a room on the ground floor!” Aunt Violetta shouted at the top of her lungs.

  Ernesto jumped and looked at the family matriarch with widening eyes. “What's that?”

  The manager ignored him. Instead, he gave Aunt Violetta a withering look. “Yes, but it's a single room. In fact, it's the smallest room of the hotel, and you've booked a double room.”

  Aunt Violetta looked taken aback. “Of course I need a double room. Omar has to look after me.”

  The manager nodded. “And that's why you can only have room twelve. As I said, the double rooms on this floor have all been taken.”

  Carlina frowned. “But a minute ago, you said that you had reserved rooms for all of us on floor one and two.”

  Ernesto cut in, “I always have room five!” He clutched his key as if someone was trying to wrestle it from him.

  “Oh, Madonna, not another one,” the manager said loudly enough for Carlina to hear.

  She ignored him and turned to Aunt Violetta. “Why don't you take Ernesto's room for the moment, Aunt Violetta?”

  “You expect me to live without Omar?” Aunt Violetta turned the corners of her mouth down.

  “At home you don't share a room with him, either, do you?” Carlina said. “I think this might be the most sensible solution for the moment.”

  “No!” Ernesto said with unprecedented violence. “I want to keep room five.”

  Carlina stared at him. What had happened to her laid-back cousin?

  “Ernesto!” Benedetta went up to her son, her lipsticked mouth pursed in disapproval. “Where are your manners? What can it matter to you?”

  “I guess he doesn't want to share the room with Omar,” Aunt Violetta said.

  “No! That's not it!” Ernesto looked around, his eyes wide, then grabbed Omar's arm and squeezed it. “I don't mind sharing a room with you at all. It's only . . . I really like my room number five.”

  The rest of the Mantoni family stared at him as if he had just declared he liked to go to bed at seven o'clock sharp each and every night.

  Uncle Teo drew himself up to his full height, which still made him only reach up to Ernesto's shoulder. “I think you should reconsider, Ernesto. If it helps Aunt Violetta, you don't want to be selfish, now, do you?”

  Ernesto blushed to the roots of his red hair. “No. Of course not. I . . .” He broke off and bit his lip. After a visible internal struggle, he held out his hand. “Here you go, Aunt Violetta.”

  “Thank you, my boy.” Aunt Violetta accepted the key and beamed at him. “Very kind of you.”

  “Can we now proceed with the check in?” The manager asked in a bored voice. “Because I've got some other things to do today as well.”

  Half an hour later, the Mantoni family had spread through the building, taking possession of their rooms. “Well, my dear, if this continues as it has started, I think I won't regret returning to Florence on Sunday night.” Stefano Garini pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it onto the queen-sized bed. He spoke in the direction of the open bathroom door, where Carlina was freshening up.

  Carlina winced. She quickly finished putting on her bikini and threw a fresh summer dress over her head, then went through the open door and put her arms around his neck. “Don't panic yet. They'll settle down now, and you'll see, it'll be a nice change from Florence.”

  “Hmm.” He kissed her neck. “I just hope--”

  A sharp bang from outside the open window made Carlina jump. “What was that?”

  Stefano made a rueful face. “Aunt Violetta shot the manager?”

  She giggled. “Be serious.”

  Several more bangs followed.

  Carlina went to the window and looked out. Their room was on the second floor of the building, overlooking the garden. The warm sun had heated up the pine tree next to their window, and with the gentle summer breeze, a heady scent of hot grass and fragrant pine came into the room. Carlina took a deep breath. In the distance, she could glimpse a corner of the sparkling blue pool and a red and white striped umbrella. Then she discovered a group of teenagers standing in a circle on the gravel walk that led around the hotel. She started to laugh. “They're testing some firecrackers. I guess they can't wait for the big fireworks of ferragosto. Come on, I want to go swimming in the sea.” She took Stefano's hand and pulled him out of the door.

  Two hours later, Stefano stretched out on his lounger, one of the two lettini they had rented from the beach club, and sipped at his cool beer. He had one arm behind his head as he surveyed the scene with his cool gaze.

  Carlina lifted her Lemonsoda to him in a mute salute. “Well, did I promise too much?” She gestured at the sand and the blue Mediterranean in front of them.

  He turned his head to her and smiled. “No, you haven't. In fact, if I only focus on you and your bikini – and I have to say that's a really nice bikini you're wearing – then I can almost forget that Emma is pouting two loungers further down because we couldn't get a place in the first row, and that Aunt Violetta is testing hers to the limit four rows over while your mother and Benedetta are bickering over the quality of your mother's salami within our hearing and that Annalisa is walking up and down the beach, shaking her hair every so often whenever an eligible male is passing by, and --”

  “Shush.” Carlina bent forward and placed a finger over his mouth. “Just close your eyes and relax. The sun will make them drowsy, and soon they'll all take an afternoon nap, and with your eyes closed, you can pretend you're all alone in the world.”

  “Ha,” Stefano caught her hand and kissed the tips of her fingers. “I haven't said that I want that. One person at least should be close by my side.”

  Carlina smiled. “She is.”

  He returned her smile.

  Treasure this moment. Hold onto it and keep it close to your heart. Carlina's heartbeat quickened as she looked into his eyes that usually seemed so cool and detached.

  “Carlina!” Benedetta appeared out of nowhere and put her hands onto her hips, her red mouth turned down at the corners.

  Stefano dropped Carlina's hand and laid back with a sigh. “I knew it wouldn't last.”

  “What's the matter?” Carlina heard the sharp note in her voice and reined in her bad temper. Her gentle aunt didn't deserve to be snapped at. “Has something happened?”

  “I haven't seen Ernesto since we arrived. Do you have any idea where he could be?”

  “Ernesto?” Carlina looked around the overcrowded beach. “Maybe he met some friends and went to play beach volleyball with them? You know that he usually sees the same people every year when we come here.”

  Benedetta frowned. “Yes, I know that. They're playing over there.” She pointed up the beach, where the rows of red striped umbrellas changed into
rows of blue striped umbrellas, indicating that a different club had authority over that stretch of the beach. “But he's not with them. I checked.”

  “No doubt you'll see him for dinner, Benedetta.” Carlina smiled up at her overprotective aunt. “Give him a little breathing space. He's an adult now, you know.”

  Benedetta sighed. “Yes, I know, but he was acting strange these last weeks. So excited to come here, and now, he's vanished without a word. That's not like him, you know. I tried to call him, too, but he's switched off his telefonino.”

  “He might be swimming. You know that he swims like a dolphin. So don't worry. Enjoy the sun and your time with Leo, and tonight, ask him where he was. No doubt it's something perfectly respectable, and he just forgot to say where he went.”

  Benedetta shook her head, muttered something to herself, and left them with her hand shadowing her eyes, scanning the crowds while looking for her son.

  “She won't relax until she's got him next to her lounger, building a sand castle.” Stefano finished his beer and leaned back.

  “You're nasty.” Carlina scooped up a bit of sand and trickled it onto his flat stomach.

  “Stop that!” He brushed the sand from his stomach. “And no, I'm not nasty. I just pity Ernesto from the bottom of my heart. He's the only young male inside a house of women, and that position certainly isn't very enviable.”

  “He'll be fine,” Carlina said. “After all, he still has me, and I'll always be there to help him.”

  Stefano sighed. “That's exactly what I'm afraid of.”

  Chapter 2

  The next morning, Aunt Violetta appeared at breakfast with a lift in her whole demeanor. Her bright eyes scanned the room with the perception of a general overseeing his troops, and she maneuvered her wheelchair with such speed that several people had to jump out of her way. When she had secured a place next to Carlina, she waved to the young waitress.

  The waitress, a slim girl with a shy smile, came to her with alacrity. Apparently, she knew when to pay attention.

  Aunt Violetta said in what passed for a whisper for her but still filled the morning room, “Buongiorno! What's your name?”

  “I'm Nora.” Her voice was soft and friendly, and her long hair hung down her back in a thick braid.

  “What? You have to speak up, girl! Don't mumble.”

  Nora gave her a startled look, then glanced at Carlina, a question in her eyes.

  Carlina gave her an encouraging nod.

  Nora lifted her voice and shouted, “My name is Nora.”

  Aunt Violetta smiled. “That's better. Well, Nora, could you do me a favor?”

  Nora looked a bit surprised, but she nodded and shouted, “If I can, I'll surely do it.”

  “Please point out to me the people who are sleeping in the room next to mine, in number four.”

  Nora looked around the room. “They haven't arrived yet. Oh, yes, there they are.” She made a discreet sign with her hand toward a middle-aged couple just entering the room. He was yawning as he entered, and she had large circles under her eyes.

  Nora had dropped her voice back to her normal speaking volume, but Aunt Violetta had no difficulty in interpreting the gesture. “Brilliant. Thank you. Would you bring me a cup of coffee, please?”

  “Of course.” Nora hurried to the kitchen.

  Aunt Violetta rolled her wheelchair forward and just managed not to run over the tired couple as she came to a stop in front of them with only two centimeters to spare.

  Stefano Garini took a bite off his brioche and followed her with his gaze. “What is she up to now?”

  Carlina frowned and drank from her cappuccino. “I have no idea.”

  The middle aged couple blinked in surprise but managed to greet the formidable old lady in the wheelchair with composure.

  “Buongiorno!” Aunt Violetta boomed back when they gave her a conventional greeting. “Did you have a good rest?”

  A polite smile was the answer. “Yes, thank you.” The couple made a move as if to turn toward the buffet.

  “Really?” Aunt Violetta moved her wheelchair forward so the couple couldn't escape. “To be honest, you look a bit tired.”

  The woman gave her a strained smile. “Well, it's true that we didn't sleep all that well. Someone in the room next to us had the TV on all night long. It was so loud that we could understand every single word that was broadcast. It was dreadful. We knocked on the door, but there was no reply. Then we called reception, but by the time we finally decided to do so, they had closed down for the night.”

  Her husband rubbed a hand over his bloodshot eyes. “I was all for calling the police, but my wife didn't want to create a scene.”

  Aunt Violetta gave a beautiful start. “Oh, my,” she said with wide eyes and covered her mouth with her wrinkled hand. “I'm so sorry. I think it was me.”

  Stefano exchanged a glance with Carlina. “Are you thinking what I'm thinking?”

  Carlina swallowed. “I hope not.”

  The tired woman stared at Aunt Violetta. “It was you?”

  “I'm afraid so.” Aunt Violetta managed a trembling smile. “You see, we had booked a double room for my son and myself, but through some mistake of the management, I could only get a single room on the ground floor.” She made a slight gesture toward the wheelchair. “They had reserved a double room upstairs, but of course, it's a bit impractical with the wheelchair and all, so we had to split up.”

  “I don't freaking believe it,” Stefano said under his breath.

  “I do.” Carlina couldn't tear her gaze away.

  Aunt Violetta was on a roll now. With a pitiful glance, she elaborated her carefully constructed tale. “I have to admit I'm a bit afraid of sleeping alone in a strange place, being a helpless invalid.”

  “As helpless as a tiger in his prime,” Stefano murmured.

  Carlina stepped on his foot.

  “So to calm myself and to feel less alone, I put on the TV and left it on all night. It may have been a bit too loud because you see, I'm slightly deaf.”

  Carlina started to shake with suppressed laughter. “Plus she sleeps with ear plugs, so you can safely say that at night, she's stone deaf.” She spoke under her breath, so only Stefano could hear her.

  The face of the tired husband had started to redden. “You mean you slept all the night through that . . . that infernal noise?”

  Aunt Violetta gave him a bashful look. “I'm afraid so.” She spread her hands. “What can we do?” She lowered her head as if she was thinking deeply, then she looked up with sparkling eyes. “I think I've got the perfect solution!”

  “You do?” The exhausted woman clutched her husband's arm. “You mean you won't switch on the TV tonight?”

  Aunt Violetta shook her head. “No, I've found something much better. We could swap rooms.”

  “Swap rooms?” The husband drew back. “But I don't want--”

  Aunt Violetta interrupted him without the slightest difficulty. “It would be the ideal answer to all our problems! You could have the room directly above the one you have now. That's the double room on the first floor where my son and my nephew are currently staying. Did you know that it gives you a view of the sea? I would move into your room together with my son, so I wouldn't have to listen to the TV anymore to make me feel safe. And my nephew, who's right now sharing the double with my son, could take my single room instead. What do you say?”

  The couple blinked in unison. “I'm afraid I couldn't quite follow.” The woman's voice sounded faint.

  Aunt Violetta bared her teeth in a credible imitation of a smile. “You take my son's room. I take your room. That's it.” Again, she spread out her hands. “It's easy. And everybody will be happy.”

  The tired woman turned to her husband. “I expect we could do this, couldn't we, darling? After all, we wanted to have a room with a view of the sea all along.”

  The husband narrowed his eyes. “Would it cost the same?”

  “Oh, absolutely,” Aunt Vi
oletta said. “You know what, I'll clear it with the management right away.” She beamed at them and rolled back her wheelchair. “It's great to deal with intelligent and flexible people, you know. If everyone was like you, we'd have fewer wars.”

  Stefano winced. “She's laying it on too thick.”

  “Oh, no.” Carlina's voice shook with laughter. “They're lapping it up. Look how the lady is blushing.”

  They all stared after Violetta's broad back as she rolled at top speed through the door that led to the lobby.

  “I can't believe she pulled it off. What an incredible woman.” Stefano shook his head. “But what's this about a nephew? Ernesto isn't her nephew, is he?”

  “No, of course not, but it's easier to just say so. She's not my great-aunt, either, now I come to think of it. Actually, she's--”

  Stefano held up his hand. “No, no, don't tell me. I don't care. She's a member of the Mantoni family; that's enough for me.” He still stared at the door though Violetta had long since passed from view. “One that runs true to form, I have to say.”

  The young waitress Nora came from the kitchen with red cheeks and slightly out of breath. The cup shook in her hands. “I'm sorry I'm late. Here's your coffee.” She looked around. “But where has she gone?”

  “She'll be right back,” Carlina smiled at her. “You can leave the coffee here, and don't worry about being late. She was otherwise occupied and didn't miss it.”

  Chapter 3

  The sharp cracking sound that rent the silent night registered in Carlina's sleep-fogged brain, but she thought it was another firecracker, so she turned around, snuggled closer to Stefano, and slipped deep into sleep again, only to wake up – moments later, as it seemed to her – by an insistent knocking on the door of their hotel room.

  Before she could do more than untangle her limbs from the sheets, Stefano was already on his feet and switched on the light. “Who's there?” His voice was sharp.

  “It's Ernesto. Please open the door!”

  With two big strides, Stefano was at the door and flung it open.