The Secrets of Villa Rosso

by Linn B. Halton

Chapter 16

  ‘She’s back,’ Livvie hurries across the office to give me a welcome-home hug.

  ‘What have I missed?’

  Livvie frowns. ‘Not much. Oh, you mean at home. I’m off the hook and I’ve hired this amazing woman who seems to be a nurse and a wonderful companion for my mother, all rolled into one. It isn’t cheap, but my conscience is heaving a huge sigh of relief.’

  I look at Livvie and shake my head. ‘You are a lost cause, Livvie. I worry about you. If all you have is your work, then you’ll end up being little more than a robot. People are what make our lives bearable and you can’t treat them like an inconvenience.’

  There aren’t many people to whom you can say something like that and know it will have absolutely no effect whatsoever. Livvie is one of them.

  ‘Sickness isn’t dignified and it isn’t pretty. I’m being a dutiful daughter and saving her the horrors of having to put up with my inept attempts to see her through the healing process. That’s a good thing, isn’t it?’

  I give up. ‘I suppose so, when you put it like that. But I hope you will grab a moment here and there to sit with her and just talk. You know, like mothers and daughters tend to do.’

  Livvie throws back her head and laughs. ‘You mean normal mothers and daughters. I don’t think that applies here. Anyway, enough personal drivel. Max has been on the phone and confirmed that the new website is up and running at last. The full inventory is on there and he said to mention that there will be quite a few things you haven’t already seen. I think you need to check it out before you pull that first order together.’

  Livvie doesn’t waste time, that’s for sure. A slight unease passed over me when she mentioned Max’s name, but it was fleeting, thank goodness. A part of me is relieved that Livvie didn’t start asking questions about my visit, but that’s not who she is and it’s all about work, work, work. This is probably the first and only time I appreciate her single–minded approach – usually I find it bizarrely detached. But then that’s at the heart of the difference in our personalities and makeup. I don’t do emotional detachment.

  ‘I’ll start working on that right away.’

  ‘I’ve left a list of the upcoming projects on your desk to give you some idea of the volume required when you are ordering. It wasn’t all bedside visits while you were gone and I’ve just signed a contract for the refurbishment of a large, very modern-day manor house in Sussex. Big budget, huge house. I’ll leave you to do your thing.’

  With that, Livvie walks away from me, her mind already on the next task to hand. Then she stops and looks back at me. ‘Oh, and congratulations. You are now the Assistant Buyer with a nice little pay rise coming your way.’

  As I turn on my heels I can’t stop a little smile of satisfaction from creeping over my face. I can’t wait to tell Josh and, in a way, I feel that this is his reward for an interlude that I still find curiously puzzling.

  ~

  ‘Mum, we need to go shopping. Everything I have is either too small or a throwback to last year.’ Hettie’s voice reflects that particular brand of despair that only a teenager can feel when choosing something to wear. Virtually the entire contents of her wardrobe is in a heap on her bed, discarded with less than a moment’s consideration.

  ‘Awful. Did I wear that, seriously? Mum, how could you possibly have let me buy this?’

  This is one of my least-favourite motherly moments. Josh is driving Hettie to the party and unless she wants to be fashionably late, which apparently isn’t fashionable any more, they have to leave in the next ten minutes.

  ‘I mean, Mum, I’m in serious trouble here. I can’t go. I simply can’t go.’

  The face that spins around in my direction pulls at my heart strings. I guess someone special is going to be there and Hettie wants to stand out from the crowd.

  Rosie saunters in, looking at the state of the bed in horror. ‘Hmm. It’s not fair and I can’t see why I can’t go, too.’

  ‘It’s a party for my friends, not yours, Rosie. You’re too young.’

  ‘Okay, girls. Rosie you have homework to do, so off you go. Hettie, honey, how do you want to look? Isn’t there something here we can salvage? Why don’t you take a look in my wardrobe?’

  Hettie looks at me as if I’ve lost my mind.

  ‘I don’t want to look like someone’s mother. I assume you are joking, Mum.’

  I sigh. The Hettie of just six months ago would never have been so rude, or thoughtless. Or self-centred. Or so insecure. My heart squishes up as I so badly want to help her leave the house feeling special. And grown up.

  ‘Josh, we might be a few minutes’ late. Grab a coffee or something.’ I shout down to our waiting taxi driver. ‘Hettie, grab your iPad.’

  We Google fashion for fifteen-year-olds and staring back at us is a mass of photos with virtually every young model and celebrity you could name, if you watch E! News. Which Ellie does, more than I think is good for her.

  ‘Okay, Ellie, is there a look here that catches your eye?’

  She scrolls down, suddenly going very quiet. And down. And down.

  ‘I quite like this look. Not too dressy. That’s legit.’

  ‘Legit?’

  ‘Cool, in your terms, Mum. Could we put something together like that? I mean, there isn’t much here,’ she turns to the mountain on the bed.

  ‘Well, to me it looks like a plain white baggy t-shirt with a crushed velvet, spaghetti strap dress over the top.’

  ‘Can you please speak in a language I can understand? What’s a spaghetti strap?’

  I shake my head. I’m not sure even I could dive into my wardrobe and find anything at all in crushed velvet.

  ‘Now this, we could do!’ I point to a sylph-like model wearing what to my eye is a jersey top with cut-outs. It’s been blinged-up with chunky jewellery and teamed with a pair of tight black leggings. ‘What do you think?’

  Hettie looks at me in surprise. ‘You can do that? Like, now?’

  ‘I’ll grab my scissors.’

  It doesn’t take long for Hettie to pick a top from my wardrobe that takes her fancy. The fabric has a sheen to it, giving the pale grey an interesting lustre.

  ‘You can cut into it, just like that?’

  I begin chopping out irregular shapes. First exposing just the tops of her shoulders, then random areas down each sleeve. Finally, I cut a slash about an inch down from the neckline, hoping it’s high enough not to show inappropriate cleavage. For once Hettie is smiling. Ironically, Rosie comes to the rescue in the jewellery department as she’s a lover of bling, much to Hettie’s usual disdain. But tonight’s different and Rosie blushes when Hettie stoops to give her a kiss on her cheek by way of a reward.

  When we walk into the kitchen and Josh’s head swivels around in surprise, his jaw drops a little.

  ‘Wow. I mean, I thought you’d be a while. You look amazing, Hettie.’

  As she does a twirl and then heads for the downstairs shower room to check herself out in the mirror, Josh saunters up to me.

  ‘Is that appropriate for a fifteen-year-old these days? She looks rather grown up.’

  He peers at me, questioningly.

  ‘It’s legit, darling. Your daughter is growing into a beautiful young woman, so you are going to have to get used to it.’

  I leave him to it and head off to the study to download the photos from my camera. With Rosie in her room doing her homework, I have a couple of hours’ peace and quiet to enjoy. I don’t intend to waste it.

  Chapter 17

  Aunt Clare calls to ask how I’m doing and I reassure her everything is fine. I tell her about Hettie’s emergency outfit and she splutters with laughter.

  ‘I’m just about to download all of the photos I took in Italy. If you’re passing, drop in sometime for a coffee and you can take a peek,’ I offer.

  ‘I’d love that. And you are sure you’re okay?’

  ‘Everything is back to normal. As far as I’m aware there’s only the he
re and the now. I still have a little glow going on, though.’

  ‘Sickening. Anyway, must go. See you soon.’

  When I slide the SD card into the slot in the PC it takes a few seconds for the screen to spark into life. There are two folders on the card, but one contains the stuff you can’t touch and the other one, entitled DCMI, is the digital camera interface. I open the folder, highlight and copy all of the tiny icons and paste them onto my desktop. A box pops up and confirms it will take eight hours and thirteen minutes to copy the files. In real time it will probably only take fifteen to twenty minutes, but I head off to the kitchen to pour a glass of wine and leave it to chunter away.

  As I’m in the kitchen uncorking the wine, my phone pings. It’s a text from an unknown number. I click on it without thinking and up pops a photo of a wrought-iron table decoration.

  Hi Ellie, Max asked me to send you this photo. It isn’t on the website yet, but it’s a special piece that Eduardo Camillucci’s son, Piero, made. He thought you should have first refusal, as it’s rather special. Anyway, hope everything is good with you. Bella

  Max is right. It’s definitely something Livvie wouldn’t want me to turn down. Piero’s a very talented young man.

  Very interested, can you get me a price? How’s the sunshine? E

  A moment later my phone pings again.

  Hot. I’ll find out and send you an email with a couple more shots. I’m now doing the cooperative’s admin, sort of working as Max’s assistant. If you need anything at all please let me know. Have a great weekend. Bella

  As I take a sip of wine, I realise that Italy isn’t behind me at all. This is the beginning of what could be a growing association. Did I really think I could shake it off as if it never happened? I feel both crushed and elated at the same time. And grateful that Max has clearly also realised it’s better if we don’t stay in close contact. Bella is the perfect person to be our point of contact.

  I head back upstairs, glass in hand, to monitor the upload. As the natural light in the room begins to fade, I sit watching the progress bar edge along, while my mind sifts through a tirade of thoughts. I wonder what Bella feels about what happened and how Max has been treated by Aletta and her family, not to mention the rest of the community? She touched upon it briefly; I mean they all obviously still live under the shadow of it. And Max is on the edge, of what, I don’t know. A nervous breakdown? Or like a volcano about to explode when some silly little thing tips him over the edge? What concerned me was that he didn’t appear to have anyone to talk to. I don’t mean in English, but someone he could trust. A confidante. I wondered about the guy from the restaurant, Luca. There seemed to be a strong bond between the two of them, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that Max won’t have to tread carefully. I wondered whether the police were watching him still, hoping a clue would—

  ‘Mum!’ Rosie’s voice hits my ears at double the normal volume and I turn to look at her, surprised.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Nothing’s wrong, but that’s the third time I had to say your name. Were you back there in Italy, you know, enjoying the sunshine?’

  Rosie tips her head and I spin back around to glance at the computer screen. To my horror the download has stopped and the last photo is open on the screen. It was taken on the terrace on my last afternoon at the villa. I wanted to get a shot of the front facade to show Livvie. I was so caught up in making sure I caught the beautiful oleanders and the herb pots, as well as a getting a glimpse of the mountain range behind the building, that I didn’t notice Max standing watching me. I spin around, wondering about Rosie’s reaction to the photo.

  ‘Nice flowers, Mum. I need a sugar rush, is there any chocolate?’

  Glancing back I see that, of course, the first thing anyone is going to notice is that vast expanse of colour. The second thing is the beauty of the villa.

  ‘Left-hand drawer, next to the cutlery tray. There might be a bar or two in the fridge, Dad likes his ice-cold.’

  She laughs, ‘Good job he doesn’t have veneers. No one eats chocolate from the fridge.’

  Veneers? What has she been reading?

  Once more I spin around in my seat and my eyes go straight to Max. He seemed to know I was totally unaware he was there and he has a slightly amused look on his face. I close my eyes, but the picture’s imprinted on my mind’s eye. I step forward into the scene, imagining the heat on my face and that bubble gum smell from the red oleander blossom.

  ‘I was watching you,’ Max’s voice seems to echo around the room.

  ‘I didn’t know. I wasn’t expecting to see you.’

  He smiles and I step back, opening my eyes. In some cultures they believe that a photograph can steal a person’s soul and some religions forbid it. That thought has always fascinated me. I know mediums often ask for an article, or a photograph, during a sitting and from that they can glean a lot of information. Can something as simple as a photographic image transmit energy and information? I dismiss my thoughts with a scathing laugh. I think I’d better check all of the photos before I show them to anyone. But now is not the time. It’s too soon and if one glance can tangle me up in a myriad of thoughts, I need to come back to this when I feel more detached.

  ~

  When Hettie returned home from the party she was buzzing. I hoped the outfit was a winner.

  ‘Did you have a good time?’

  ‘Oh, Mum! Everyone wants a top like this. I didn’t say it was homemade, of course, I just said I bought it online and now it’s out of stock. That’s okay, isn’t it? I mean, it’s only a small lie.’

  I look at Josh, who shrugs his shoulders with an air of I-don’t-know about it.

  ‘Well, maybe in this case it’s okay, but don’t make a habit of it. I’m just glad you were happy you looked good – and we will go shopping. I keep forgetting how fast you’re growing.’

  I touch her shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. When did my baby become so grown up? And now, according to Rosie, a boy called Alex and Hettie are always together at school. They sit apart from their large group of friends every lunchtime so they can talk. That’s a big deal at their age. I have no idea how Josh is going to cope with this.

  A week ago life seemed rather ordinary, in fact comfortingly ordinary. Suddenly my head is full of new worries, and it isn’t just about my blossoming daughter.

  Chapter 18

  Josh’s problems at work continued to grow. Over the next couple of weeks we spent most of our quality time together talking it through. People leave, as they tend to do, but they aren’t being replaced. At first the impact isn’t that damaging. Josh said the targets were still being met and no one was complaining. But now Josh is very worried. A lot of the team spirit evaporated after a recent staff meeting where management confirmed they were going to streamline operations. It’s a large IT department, but with more and more satellite offices coming online and increased numbers of staff working from home, Josh freely admits it’s too much to manage. He’s hoping that the streamlining will split the section into two and he’ll be left to manage the core operations. He’s been asked to write a report outlining the various options and potential savings. So, as usual, the bottom line is all about reducing costs. But things just became a whole lot more serious.

  ‘If I get it wrong it isn’t just my job that is on the line, Ellie. To be frank with you, I’m worried sick about it.’

  ‘What does Nathan have to say?’ I think I already know the answer. Nathan’s mid-life crisis is an accident in the making and all of his friends know that.

  ‘Nathan’s off sick with stress as of a week ago.’

  ‘What?’ Josh never said anything to me about that and now I understand the pressure he’s been under. Nathan’s role is to attend board meetings and give the directors an overview of IT’s performance. He’s the buffer that allows Josh to concentrate on the real job of running the department. The only person Nathan manages is Josh. Josh has more than fifty staff to manage and he’s t
he trouble-shooter, and the fire fighter, when things go wrong. And they do, all of the time, because that’s the nature of the job.

  What I don’t understand is why Josh didn’t tell me this before.

  ‘Is there anything at all I can do to help? I’m disgusted with Nathan. It isn’t stress, it’s over-indulgence. Too many parties and too many alcoholic binges. At first, I didn’t believe the gossip I’d heard. Even though I knew Nathan was capable of being that stupid. Liz deserved a medal for making their marriage last as long as it did. But now he’s a player and there’s no one to rein him in’.

  Josh shakes his head. ‘To be honest, Ellie, the next few weeks are going to be little short of hell. We have hackers causing major problems and staff morale is the lowest it’s ever been. Somehow I have to turn things around, while coming up with a master plan for the future. I have no idea when, or if, Nathan will return, so it’s down to me. But if they don’t agree with what I say, then I fear they will outsource the whole thing and everyone will lose their job.’

  I sit back against the cushion, the impact of Josh’s words almost beyond my comprehension. I grab his hand and he gives mine a gentle squeeze, lifting it to his lips. As he very tenderly kisses the back of my hand he looks into my eyes.

  ‘I don’t want you to worry about it. This is one problem where all I can do is my best. But I need you to understand that it’s going to affect us all. I will be staying late and heading out earlier than usual for a little while, until this is all sorted out. That means I’m not going to be around much to help out. We need to let the girls know that it won’t be forever, but I want them to pull their weight so it’s not so hard on you.’

  Josh, you are my protector, my lover, my best friend and my salvation. I’m here for you no matter what. The pressure he’s under scares me, but I can’t let him see that and add to his worries.

  ‘Do what you have to do and let me handle the domestics. The girls will be fine, well, as fine as two warring teenagers can possibly be. Just promise me one thing.’

  ‘What’s that?’