The village was so beautiful, so peaceful. Claire could see the old ladies in black, sharing a bench across from where their trail started. And she could see him now, the brown suited guy and his friend in the red jacket. They were striding purposefully out from under the tracks, heading down to the piazza.
“Maybe we’re being paranoid,” Kristen said hopefully. “Did you ever think they just might be tourists? They may not be assassins looking for us.”
Claire glanced at her and saw how hard she was trying to believe it.
They watched as the men approached the women on the bench. They had no way of knowing what words were exchanged, but one of the women clearly pointed across the street where the path cut through between the buildings and then pointed up to where they were standing. Both men turned and stared while Claire and Kristen were pinned to the path as immobile as frightened rabbits.
The men nodded at the women and moved into the street. They conferred and separated. The man in the red windbreaker headed back up the hill while the brown suited man disappeared between the buildings.
“Paranoid? I don’t think so,” Claire said. “Come on, we need to move fast. We don’t want him catching up with us.”
Then as they moved briskly around the bend in the path, “I wonder where the other man was going.”
Their path was now in full sun and dusty. It wandered down the coast, sometimes through terraced grapevines planted on either side, sometimes running along the cliff, high above the waves crashing on the rocks. Occasionally, hikers coming from Corniglia passed them and once Kristen asked two young men about the trail ahead.
“Good, very good,” they told her. “Just follow the red and white markers and, if you’ve brought your suits, there are a couple of great places to swim.”
The other young man seemed eager to join the conversation. “Or if you didn’t bring your suits there’s a nude beach near Corniglia.” This suggestion was delivered with such a lecherous look on the young man’s face that Kristen laughed in spite of her worry about the threat coming behind them.
She promised she’d consider a swim, waving as they moved on. It wasn’t long after they passed the young men that they reached a point in the trail where they could see it hugging a cove and then stretching back around the cliffs far on the other side. From this point they could see a few little figures moving both ways, those in front of them going to Corniglia and those heading their way from Corniglia. And there was a lone figure wearing something bright red.
Claire halted abruptly the little hairs on her neck standing up straight. She didn’t want to believe it, but she felt certain. “Look Kristen. Is that the man who was with Brown Suit?”
“Maybe.” Kristen shaded her eyes, making a telescope out of her fingers in order to see better.
“Could be. Maybe that’s where he was going when he left Brown Suit in Vernazza. Maybe he took the train to Corniglia so he could come the other way and sandwich us between them.
“Pretty clever, these assassins.” Her attempt at humor didn’t work. They were both too worried to be amused.
They looked at each other, wondering if not saying out loud, how far behind them Brown Suit was. Their brisk pace meant to put distance between them and the danger following them now looked like it was only moving them faster towards a new danger in front of them.
“It doesn’t seem to make a lot of sense to keep rushing this way only to end up meeting him.” Claire looked at the long trail in front them, searching in vain for a dissecting trail. “Maybe we should go back a ways and try to climb up through those vineyards. Maybe we could find a road.”
“I think the vineyards are too far back. They were pretty close to Vernazza. We might meet up with Brown Suit before we get there...” She too was looking around. “Claire, did you notice a little way back that section of path that veered toward the cliff? It was cordoned off.”
Claire hadn’t noticed it.
“It was just before we met those two guys. I’m wondering if it was the original path. Maybe they closed it so people wouldn’t walk so close to the edge of the cliffs. Maybe we should go back there and see where that path goes. It would get us off this trail for a while and then after Brown Suit passes we could get back on the main trail and make it back to Vernazza in time to make the boat for Riomaggiore.”
Claire realized it might work. They had no other options, so she nodded her agreement and they headed back the way they came. Their pace picked up so they were almost running. They weren’t sure how close Brown Suit was and they wanted to get off the trail before he came around a bend.
“There it is. See up ahead that clump of rocks?”
Claire saw the clump of rocks but couldn’t detect the trail until they were almost on top of it. It hadn’t been used for a while as was obvious from the weeds breaking through the worn path almost obliterating the trail. And while Claire didn’t read Italian the sign on the barricade was clear the trail was closed.
“Come on, Claire, hurry.” Kristen was tense. She ignored the sign, leading the way, confident her plan would work.
Claire, close on Kristen’s heels, climbed over the barricade and around the rocks used to block the trail. On the other side the trail was wide and only slightly sloping downhill until it turned around a bulge and was hidden from the trail above. They paused here looking around them. From this point they could no longer see any of the trail either coming from or going to Vernazza which they hoped meant that they couldn’t be seen either. They moved comfortably along walking abreast. Claire drank some of her water and then shared the bottle with Kristen. They had been on the trail for almost an hour. Claire was tired, mostly a result of the heat and the stress, but so far the hike hadn’t been too bad.
Almost in answer to her thoughts the trail they were on narrowed, dipped down and then around another bend it climbed steeply. Halfway up a steep cliff the trail faded. Here it was covered with loose gravel and sand. It looked treacherous, obviously the result of previous landslides.
Kristen started confidently across before Claire could even open her mouth to suggest caution. But when Kristen reached stable ground on the other side without incident, Claire, with her heart in her mouth and refusing to look down, followed. She breathed a sigh of relief when her feet were once more firmly planted on the hard, wider path on the other side. She hurried after Kristen, who had disappeared around another turn.
This trail was much more rugged than the one they started on. This trail wended its way on the very edge of the cliffs. Some places the trail seemed cut impossibly into the cliff and it was a sheer drop to the jagged rocks and water far below. Claire could understand why it had been closed and the other trail, cutting inland along a safer route, opened.
“This must run into the other trail up here somewhere but I didn’t see where it did before we decided to turn around, did you?”
Claire shook her head, realizing they might not want to merge with the main trail as they might come out just where Brown Suit and Red Jacket met.
It turned out there would be no danger of that happening, because abruptly the trail ended. They both stood and looked at the deep gouge in front of them which was probably formed when part of the cliff fell into the sea, taking the trail in front of them and quite a bit of the hillside.
“I guess this is why it was closed.”
“It looks like it happened quite a while ago.” Claire backed up, wondering how secure the section of the cliff they were standing on really was.
Kristen followed her backwards, maybe having the same thoughts.
“Well, nothing to do but go back to the main trail. Hopefully, Mr. Brown Suit has passed.”
Claire nodded, heading back, this time in front.
They were making good time, striding with the confidence of having already been over this trail, so when they came around the bend and came face to face with Brown Suit and Red Jacket they were stunned.
But for only for a moment; then Claire, with a flood
of adrenaline rushed forward, not giving Brown Suit a moment to prepare his attack. His face was frozen in a look of astonishment as she raised her leg and kicked out with all her might. He was more agile then she expected, jumping back out of the way so her foot missed his knee completely. Her momentum, unchecked, threw her off balance carrying her dangerously toward the edge of the cliff. That’s when Kristen grabbed Claire’s backpack, yanking back until she got another hand on Claire’s upper arm, pulling back enough to counterbalance her. As Claire and Kristen both straightened up their eyes were drawn back to the drama developing on the trail in front of them.
When Brown Suit had leaped back to avoid Claire’s kick he had put himself squarely back on that portion of the trail covered with loose gravel. His highly polished Italian loafers, now marred and dusty, were not meant for trail walking. They started sliding on the treacherous surface. He tried to regain his balance but only upset more debris as his scrabbling feet sought a purchase in the loose sand. Red Jacket, just behind him, tried to steady him, but Brown Suit was now panicking, his arms flailing as he flung himself against the side of the cliff, clinging to some plants rooted in the wall of the cliff. But he only succeeded in pulling them out from the earth, adding more dirt to the slide that was starting.
The frantic activity of the men was too much. Red Jacket turned and tried to lunge for the more stable ground behind him, but Brown Suit grabbed him.
All four of them watched with disbelief as the ground reshaped itself, gravel and rocks sliding with more intensity. The men struggled to maintain their footing on the fast disappearing trail. Claire and Kristen on solid ground backed away. Claire would never forget Brown Suit’s face; his initial predatory look had changed to one of terror, before he and Red Jacket were swept off the cliff along with a good portion of the trail.
Claire and Kristen had mutely retreated around the bend, praying that the slide would stop before it reached them. Finally silence seemed to echo in their ears. Claire collapsed into a heap on the trail, her knees just gave out. She clasped her arms around them, rocking back and forth, saying, “I don’t believe it. I just don’t believe it.”
Kristen slowly lowered herself to the hard path and stared out to sea. She too was stunned by their unexpected reprieve.
CHAPTER 10
Millie spooned some of Randy’s gnocchi with shrimp in a light cream sauce onto her plate. She hoped it was more successful than his self-professed gluey usual. She examined the bowl of rigatoni she and Antonio made. They had relied heavily on the taste of the pasta choosing to only toss it with olive oil, herbs, bits of bacon, chopped tomatoes and chunks of blue cheese. It looked very attractive. She was hoping for kind criticism from her fellow students after the meal. She moved down the table making room on her plate for each of the pastas offered and then filled the rest of it with the green salad. There was no risk that there wouldn’t be enough to eat. Chef Geno and his staff appeared to be determined they each get more than their share of food.
Tonight’s dinner was a pasta buffet including all the dishes the students prepared this afternoon. The Villa provided salads, the breads and a couple of appetizers. The desserts were already sitting out and Millie could see the desserts her group had made last night were included with several new selections. That pleased her as she wanted to try the Budino again. She had wondered how it would hold up after an overnight in the refrigerator.
As Sunday dinner was meant to be more casual, multiple tables for six were set up instead of the long table. Each table was gaily set with red and white checkered tablecloths, casual dinnerware and clunky diner type glassware for their wines. It seemed like a party.
“I can’t believe how fast time is going. This class is almost over,” Millie commented joining Ruth, who was sitting at a table with Stephen, Zoe and Michael. She nodded to the waiter who was hovering, ready to pour her wine, and spread her napkin on her lap just as Randy approached.
“Room for one more?”
“Please join us,” Zoe invited graciously.
“Time does seem to be moving very fast,” Stephen said in response to Millie’s comment. “And is everyone satisfied with the content?” He looked around at the others sitting there.
“Well, I’ve got my money’s worth with that dish.” Randy pointed to the gnocchi on Millie’s plate. “Have you tried it yet?”
She shook her head and picked up a fork full. She chewed it carefully, savoring it in her mouth. “Wonderful,” she pronounced.
Randy beamed. “Hell, yes! It’s wonderful. And it was easy.”
Everyone dipped into the gnocchi.
“I love this.”
“I’m going to try this.”
“What’s the secret?”
“Quick and gentle, just as Chef Geno said. That’s how you get tender gnocchi. Who would have known?” Randy puffed up with pleasure.
Stephen looked at Ruth and Michael. “What about the two of you? Neither of you are chefs, or wannabe chefs, so has it been worth the money and time?”
Michael laughed. “What is this article number 746? Are you working tonight, Stephen?”
Stephen actually blushed. “Busted. Well, I thought a couple of the airline magazines might be interested in an article about the Retreat. You don’t mind, do you?” He looked around anxiously, but seeing no one was concerned he relaxed. “After all, I’d like to recoup some of my costs.”
Michael nodded. “Well, I’ve had a great time and we still have two days. The hardest part for me was keeping up with my group. I’m not used to working in a professional kitchen and I admit my skills with a knife are almost non-existent. But everyone has been very understanding.”
Ruth nodded. “And it’s even more amazing when you consider that Michael, Jacques and I are all in the same group so Marybeth, who is super, and Frederick have to carry the load.”
“Well, our group is coping with me, LiAnn and Millie. George and Renee are our anchors, right Millie?” Randy said. “I guess that’s why they set the teams up the way they did. Smart!”
“Oh, my God! Did you try this?” Zoe pointed to the ravioli on her plate. “I think it’s stuffed with lobster. What do you think, Stephen?”
They all tried it and discussed the stuffing as well as the sauce. Then Stephen steered the conversation back to their impressions of the Retreat.
“I love it. And except for the mouse in the flour today, everything has been super. It’s been so well planned.” Zoe was more enthusiastic than Millie remembered seeing her.
“Ugh, that mouse was ugly. Does that really happen in kitchens?” Ruth was still put off by the incident.
“Of course! That’s why they have kitchen inspections and certifications around the world. But truthfully, I was very surprised it would happen in this kitchen. The Villa is five stars. Or was! It won’t be if Zagat finds a mouse when they visit.” Stephen nodded sagely.
“I almost fell off my stool when LiAnn squealed.” Millie smiled. “I didn’t think she could move so fast.”
“I think we were all more startled by her scream than the mouse,” Randy commented, “But I happened to pass her and Sam after we were dismissed and he was sure giving her hell for something. I couldn’t tell what, because it was in Chinese.” He chuckled. “But no doubt she was in trouble and she was looking pretty chastised.”
“I can’t believe it. Sam hasn’t said word one since we started classes. I just assumed LiAnn rules in that family,” Millie said with surprise.
Randy shrugged. “I don’t know but I know when someone is getting a thorough scolding when I see it, regardless of the language.”
“Actually, I was upset by the mouse, more because of the effect on Chef Martin than anything.” Michael, as always, was defending his hero.
“He’s a star and twice he’s had problems with his demonstrations. Someone hasn’t been doing their job prepping for him. That should never happen to a chef of his stature.”
“And don’t forget the little accident at the
winery. If Millie hadn’t pushed him out of the way, the forklift would have run right into him instead of the conveyor belt,” Stephen reminded them.
“What? What are you saying?” Ruth demanded. “Is something funny going on?”
“Hardly funny,” was Michael’s terse reply.
Ruth waved her hand. “You know what I mean. Do you think these incidents were related somehow?”
Michael stared off into space for a moment, and then shook his head. “No. Really I don’t. The incident at the winery was really strange, but we have no idea how they work. It might just be a sloppy operation. And the other two incidents are probably just the result of a busy kitchen and the impact of all of us on it. But, hopefully, that is the end of strange events. You know Chef Martin is going from here to the Culinary Olympics and he doesn’t need to be carrying a load of worry with him to distract him. He needs to be fresh and ready.”
Stephen nodded, agreeing. “You know he’s really a nice guy. He did get me into the Olympics as a member of the press. So I’ll be going there directly from the Retreat. My paper is excited about having an on-site report of the competition. So much so they’re willing to foot the expenses. And I’m sure I’ll get enough material for several more articles.” He beamed. “Life is full of opportunities.”
“That does sound exciting.” Millie’s face reflected her enthusiasm. “I hope you’ll let us all know when any articles about the Retreat or the Culinary Olympics come out, so we can be sure and get a copy to read.”
“Of course. Let me have your e-mail addresses before we leave and I’ll send out an announcement.”
“I’m going back for seconds.” Zoe announced. “Can I get anything for anybody?”
Randy pushed away from the table. “Me too, I have some favorites I’d like just a bit more of.”
Ruth and Stephen got up too, leaving Millie and Michael still at the table. “Are you going to the Olympics?” Millie asked.
Claire Gulliver #03 - Intrigue in Italics Page 13