From Italy With Love

by Jules Wake

Taking two strong swallows, he heaved out a sigh before putting the glass down and staring into it. What a wanker. Laurie could do a hell of a lot better than him.

  And then a voice jeered in his head. What? Like you?

  He rubbed his eyes, suddenly feeling knackered. Why would Laurie want anything to do with him? After his choice little speech back in Monstein. He’d proved himself as big an arse as Robert. An arrogant arse. No wonder she’d taken off the way she had.

  She was the least needy woman he’d ever met and hadn’t she proved that in spades, leaving him stranded, in a car worth millions and taking on one of the most difficult drives in the world.

  A self-deprecating laugh escaped him. He was the dickhead. Who said, “You only love her when you let her go”? He’d mistaken suffocation for commitment. Sylvie had been incapable of leading an independent life.

  Part of the attraction he felt for Laurie, apart from the spine tingling sex, was her ability to be herself and take responsibility for herself. In fact, he grinned to himself, sexual demands aside, she hadn’t asked a thing of him.

  Damn. He just needed to talk to her and get rid of that idiot Robert. Once she arrived, Cam would be making sure that she left with him.

  Mind you, Robert might bring things to a head by himself; the desk clerk looked as if she might take the handy letter opener and slice it through Robert’s ribs. It would save everybody a lot of trouble.

  He scowled into his beer and hauled his phone out of his pocket for the umpteenth time that hour. Still nothing from her.

  Finishing his beer, he ordered a second and settled into his seat. From here he could see the lobby and keep an eye out for Laurie’s arrival.

  Chapter 25

  With great reluctance, she tucked her bag into the boot and took one last look at the lake. Time to head back to real life, whatever that held. The last three days had been cathartic. Giving her time to reassess and look forward.

  She took a deep breath, lifted her shoulders and climbed into the car. Maranello, here she came. This morning was cool with the promise of another gorgeous day and a good reason to get an early start.

  The car ate up the miles along the shore, last glimpses of the lake teasing her as she wound her way south. She’d probably make it by late afternoon. She kept a steady pace, conscious of the local speed limits. A man in a Fiat got quite irate behind her, virtually tagging her bumper desperate to urge her to go faster. Finally, frustration overtook him and he roared past waving his fist on a dangerous bend. She shrugged, having learned at the very outset that this car brought out the worst in some people. It didn’t mean she had to drive like an idiot.

  A straight long stretch of road, however, saw her notching up the speed, enjoying the purr of the engine. Too late she saw the police car sitting in the layby as she flew past. Glancing at the speedometer, her pulse pushed 100 beats a minute. 80km. That was legal on this road wasn’t it? She glanced in her rear view mirror. Damn the police car had pulled out. Breathe, she told herself. Just breathe. You haven’t done anything wrong … well not that was immediately obvious to the police. She was pretty sure she’d been within the limit. Maybe they were just following her to make sure she stuck to it. Coming to a bend, she stretched out a shaky hand, alarmed to find she could hardly change gear for the banging of her heart against her ribs. As she slowed down, she saw the police car tucked in right behind her.

  For a moment she slowed even further. But that would look like she’d got something to hide. Driving this slowly might shout guilty conscience. Grateful she could hide behind her sunglasses, she carried on driving hoping that the policeman would get some other emergency call, but no such luck.

  The road stretched on. It was the main route, so there was little hope of losing her tail. Surely they would have pulled her over by now if they thought she’d done anything wrong.

  There were two of them in the car, both wearing sunglasses so she couldn’t see their expressions. They were clearly talking. Sweat trickled down her back, running between her shoulder blades. She could feel herself sticking to the leather seat. There were probably huge sweat rings under her arms. If only there was some place to turn off – a village to stop in but the road rolled on between wide open meadows sloping away down to stunning views which she didn’t dare do more than glance at.

  She almost missed the sign for the layby coming up in 3km. Thank you God. She’d stop here. Hopefully they’d keep going. She could stay here a while. Make it an early lunch with the water and fruit she had with her. That would give them plenty of time to get well ahead.

  It was a relief to see that the layby had a large viewing area with plenty of car parking spaces. She indicated and pulled off smoothly, praying the police car would roar off on down the road.

  It didn’t. Instead it pulled slowly in behind her.

  There were very few cars about, so she had the pick of spaces. Going to the far side, she drove into a space. To her horror the police car pulled in alongside.

  Shit. She closed her eyes. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t known the risk. The chance of being stopped had always been there. It wasn’t exactly a car you’d miss. Keep calm. That’s all she needed to do. They might not even ask to see her licence. She wiped her palms on her linen trousers.

  And what if they did? She could play ignorant. Say she’d lost her licence. Or that it had been stolen. Italy was notorious for pick-pockets.

  She took a deep breath. Her worst fear had been realised, and it didn’t seem quite so bad. She’d just have to get on with it. What could they do? Arrest her? Throw her in jail? It wasn’t the end of the world. She’d had a good run so far.

  She waited as the policeman got out of the car and approached her window.

  ‘Buon giorno, Signorina,’ he grinned, pulling off his traffic cop sunglasses, with a wide smile.

  ‘Buon giorno.’ She swallowed hard, her voice a little rusty but gave him a cautious smile.

  His eyes registered surprise.

  ‘You’re English.’

  She nodded even though it was a statement rather than a question.

  ‘A beautiful car and a beautiful lady.’ His eyes roved over the car, like a lover measuring up vital statistics. He touched the bonnet reverently.

  A flush of heat rushed through her. A Ferrari fan.

  Opening the door, she got out of the car and left the door open in invitation to him.

  ‘Would you like a look?’

  As his eyes lit up with that unmistakable look of Ferrari fervour, Laurie felt light-headed.

  He peered in the driver’s door at the dashboard, admired the interior and then took a walk around the car.

  ‘Where are you headed?’ His heavily accented English had a definite American twang.

  ‘Maranello,’ she said proudly and patted the bonnet hoping he wouldn’t notice her shaking legs. ‘Taking her home.’

  He nodded approvingly. ‘What year is she?’

  ‘1962, GT ….’

  He nodded again. ‘Nice, very nice.’

  She found herself saying, ‘Do you want to sit inside?’

  He beamed, waved his colleague over and squeezed himself into the seat behind the wheel.

  The other policeman was younger but equally enthusiastic. The two of them chattered in rapid Italian, examining the car from every angle.

  Twenty minutes later, she was on first name terms with both of them and they’d exhausted all their questions. She’d taken pictures of both of them sitting in the car with their mobiles. Georgio, the younger policeman withdrew his head from the interior of the car as if it cost him to do so, while Pedro shook Laurie’s hand. ‘Grazie. Grazie. Va bene. You drive carefully.’

  As she sank back into the leather seat, Pedro leaned into the window and miming as he spoke, said, ‘Drive carefully now, Signorina. Keep the doors locked when you’re in the city.’

  As she pulled out onto the road, she let out a huge sigh of relief. Only one more leg of the journey … and no one had yet realised
that she didn’t have a full driving licence.

  The rest of the journey passed uneventfully and as she left the mountains and the roads flattened out, they became more clogged. As she neared her final destination, the scenery became more industrialised.

  The sat nav guided her into Maranello which after the mountains and lakes was a rather unremarkable town.

  Ron arrived after Cam had downed his fourth Peroni. The solicitor looked a little faded around the edges as if the journey had taken it out of him. Cam rose immediately and went out to greet him and take his bag from him.

  ‘Cam, how are you?’ Ron shook his hand with vigour, happy to relinquish his small carry-on suitcase, a mischievous grin displacing the weary lines around his mouth for a moment. Cam suspected he was a lot older than he’d first thought. Probably over seventy, rather than under.

  ‘Great, thanks.’

  ‘And Laurie?’ Ron asked eagerly.

  Cam’s heart sank. Shit, the beer had fuzzed his thinking. Of course Ron would assume she’d arrived.

  ‘It’s a long story. Why don’t we get you checked in? You’ve probably had a long day. Have you eaten?’

  Ron didn’t look the least bit fazed. ‘Food, now that’s a wonderful idea. I’m not fond of budget airline catering; it’s worse than service station fare.’

  Cam harboured, in equal measure, an overwhelming desire to ask if Laurie had been in contact and a dread that Ron would tell him no and he’d come to find out where she was because her call was overdue. Did he know where she was?

  Ron seemed in no hurry and Cam’s thumbnail had been nibbled raw by the same they were ensconced in the hotel restaurant with their orders placed.

  ‘So Cam, how’s the journey been?’

  ‘The journey has been fine … until … damn it Ron, have you heard from Laurie?’

  Ron raised his eyebrows.

  ‘I’ve lost her.’ Cam’s voice cracked as he said it. ‘I’ve no idea where she is, whether she’s OK. Christ, anything could have happened to her. She’s not answering her phone. She’s not called.’

  ‘I see,’ said Ron, his solemn expression belied by the wicked twinkle in his faded blue eyes.

  ‘You know where she is?’ His voice growled.

  Ron’s mouth curved into something that looked distinctly like a smirk and for a moment Cam was very tempted to throttle him. His temper seemed to be on a very short thread at the moment.

  ‘She’s fine. Phoned me to tell me she would be here tomorrow evening.’

  ‘She’s safe then,’ said Cam bitterly. So Laurie had seen fit to contact Ron but couldn’t even respond to a text begging her to let him know she was OK.

  Ron leaned forward and patted his arm. ‘She phoned to tell me she had decided to take a few days on her own and expects to be here tomorrow evening …’ he grinned, ‘unless, her words, “she gets diverted”.’ He chuckled. ‘Chip off the old block, that one. Miles would be delighted.’

  ‘What?’ Cam bit out. ‘You think Miles would be delighted … that an inexperienced driver, his own niece, has taken his most prized car down one of the most challenging roads in the world …’ His eyes blazed as he looked at Ron’s complacent expression. ‘What if she’d gone over the edge? Lost control? It’s no car for a novice. She could have been …’ The terror that he’d held at bay for the last two days threatened to swamp him. He closed his eyes. Bloody Miles and his sidekick, playing God.

  ‘Cam,’ Ron interjected, ‘Miles taught her well. Even at fourteen, she was a natural. He knew what he was doing. I tried to talk him out of playing God, but he was my very dear friend and he would have gone elsewhere to another solicitor to get what he wanted. All I could do was make sure what he wanted was water-tight. You knew Miles better than anyone.’

  ‘Stubborn old goat.’ Cam could picture him so clearly it made his throat ache. ‘Yeah I can imagine, he wouldn’t leave it.’

  ‘I didn’t necessarily approve of what he was doing. He was desperate to right wrongs. He felt bad about what his sister did to Laurie. This was his attempt to make up. While Laurie’s father was alive, he wanted nothing to do with Miles. Blamed Miles for introducing Celeste to Georges.’ Ron shook his head. ‘If it hadn’t been him, it would have been someone else. He was replaced by Harvieu who was richer. Presumably you’ve met her now. That one always wanted more.’

  Miles’ intentions might have been altruistic but Cam had seen at first hand the emotional blow that Laurie had taken. He wasn’t sure she appreciated Miles’ attempts to get her to reconnect with her mother. Without knowing it, his old friend had been cruel and thoughtless and he, Cam, was about to make things a lot worse. He should have been honest with Laurie. Should have told her the final part of the will.

  As if he’d read his thoughts Ron asked, ‘Have you told her the terms of selling the car?’

  Cam’s eyelids felt heavy, weighed down with guilt. ‘No. There was never the right moment.’ It didn’t seem right to tell the older man that they’d been sleeping together.

  He’d planned to tell Laurie. He really had but then they’d slept together and that had changed everything. He should have told her before that. Sleeping with her muddied the water. What if she thought he’d slept with her for the car? When she finally bloody turned up, he needed to talk to her.

  As he made his way back from the bar carrying a brandy for himself and a Cointreau for Ron, he noticed Robert on the far side of the room. With his head bobbing like an overeager terrier scenting prey, it was clear he’d recognised them. Damn, no avoiding him now. Cam’s lip curled as Robert made a beeline to the table.

  ‘Thought it was you. You’re the driver guy.’ His head swivelled with great drama to Ron, ‘And you’re the solicitor. I spoke to you the other day. You,’ he said with great accusation, ‘told me she’d be here. Where is she? And where’s the car?’ Suspicion narrowed his mouth and Cam felt the dart of accusation. ‘The receptionist said there was no one with a Ferrari here. What’s happened to them?’

  ‘Laurie wanted to take a few days on her own, driving the car before she came here.’

  Robert smiled nastily. ‘I don’t think so.’

  Cam gave into the desire to needle the idiot. ‘Why’s that?’

  ‘She doesn’t drive.’ He folded his arms as if to punctuate his smug statement.

  Cam shrugged and took a long swallow of his brandy, waiting until the burn in his stomach had dissipated. ‘She did the last time I saw her.’

  Robert shook his head, clearly unconvinced. ‘Laurie never drives.’

  ‘Well that’s changed.’

  ‘She can’t drive …’ Robert grew an inch or two as he straightened as if to deliver the killer blow, ‘… she doesn’t have a driving licence. Only a provisional. She’s not allowed to drive outside of the UK. So where is she?’

  Cam digested the news in silent amazement and then started to laugh as all the pieces of the jigsaw popped into place. No wonder she’d been so keen not to drive at first. Laurie I-wouldn’t-dream-of-taking-a-risk had changed her spots.

  ‘It’s not funny, you know. Are you telling me she’s on her own with a very valuable car? Anything could happen!’

  ‘What, to Laurie or the car?’ Cam didn’t even fight to disguise his dislike.

  ‘Either.’

  Ron who clearly didn’t do conflict, which seemed strange given his profession, interrupted. ‘Mr Evans, don’t worry. I have been in touch with Laurie. She’s perfectly safe. She decided to make the most of the trip and spend a couple of days in Lake Garda. Bit of a holiday. She phoned the library to get an extension.’

  ‘Lake Garda?’ Robert and Cam’s voices harmonised in disbelief.

  ‘That’s ridiculous. Laurie wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t take a holiday without me. We’re creosoting the fence.’

  ‘Well, well,’ grinned Cam. ‘Good for her.’ He ignored Robert and turned to Ron. ‘I’ll kill her when I get hold of her. Left me kicking my heels in Monstein.’ He chuckled as he rem
embered how convinced he was that she’d be back at any second. What an arrogant prick? And she taught him a lesson. She’d gone off on her own, driven down the Stelvio pass and then taken off. The lady had balls.

  ‘She’s absolutely fine. Found a very nice hotel in Riva Del Garda. Enjoyed herself I think.’ Ron seemed unperturbed by both their reactions.

  ‘In a hotel?’ Robert sounded outraged.

  ‘Where else would you have her stay?’ asked Cam with lazy amusement. ‘In a stable?’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ It seemed to be Robert’s favourite word. ‘We always stay in B&Bs, much better value.’

  ‘Yet … here you are.’

  Robert’s mouth resembled a prune. ‘This is business, besides Laurie … well you know. Once she’s sold the car …’

  Cam bit down the irritation that stirred in his gut at Robert’s assumption even though the car was as good as sold. Today he’d sorted out all the finance and he’d be able to hand over a banker’s draft the minute Laurie arrived. The official handover of the car had to take place at the Ferrari museum, where they were expecting her. Thank God Miles had put it all in writing. It would have been awful if the museum had made a counter offer for the car.

  In just a few … hours … days … whenever Laurie deigned to turn up, the car would be his. He’d dreamt of this for years and now it was so close …his hand stilled on his brandy glass. Where was the elation? The fizz of excitement he should be feeling? This was the culmination of the trip and he felt … nothing. If anything, slightly numb. He picked up his glass and took a thoughtful sip. It was probably because he’d been worrying about Laurie’s safety. All this time, she’d been living it up in Lake Garda while he’d been picturing all sorts of scenarios. Yeah, once his brain had absorbed it all and he saw the car again, that buzz would be back.

  Chapter 26

  It felt as if a daddy-long-legs had taken up residence inside her chest and she nearly gave in to the temptation to drive past the hotel. All eyes swivelled her way as the sound of the engine echoed around the hotel entrance. A couple of people stopped to stare and the concierge almost tripped over his own feet in his hurry to open the driver’s door. When he realised she was female, his surprise quickly turned to quick appraisal before he returned a grin of approval. With a torrent of Italian, he welcomed her before she said, ‘Inglese.’ He nodded and then unleashed a flood of questions in perfect English. Of course they were probably quite used to guests turning up here in Ferraris although none of them were quite in this lady’s league. Laurie almost patted the long low slung bonnet.