(2012) Evie Undercover (6 page)

But public interest or not, it was going to take quite a lot to do something to someone else that
she wouldn’t like done to her.
However,
i
f Tom Hadleigh had
been telling the court something about Zizi
Westenhall which he knew to be untrue
,
then
it was right that he was found out, and she wasn’t going to let the fact that the guy was cool and fun to be with get in the way of her telling the truth. She was a journalist, and journalists were above being influenced by superficial things like a person being
dead sexy
.

She looked up from the photos in her hands and saw that the four
-
by
-
four had just finished going round the bottom of the hill on which
an
old town stood, half hidden behind an encircling
grey stone wall.
That must be Todi, she
decided
.
The road they were on was leading them away from
the old town
and through
an area of
more recently built houses and shops.

She quickly leafed through the photos, slid them back into the leather case, sank down into her seat and surreptitiously looked across at Tom. He was concentrating on the road ahead, his left arm casually resting on the frame of the open window while he steered the wheel with his right hand.

He really was
mega
attractive, she thought, and he seemed a genuinely
fun
guy, light years away from the cheating, lying bastard her editor
had
said he was. Suppose her so
d of an editor had got it wrong
and there was nothing for her to come up with
?
She felt a sudden twinge of panic, and turned
away
to look at the road.

‘Aha!’ Tom exclaimed a few moments later. ‘There’s the sign pointing to Massa Piccola. It won’t be long
till
we’re there. I’ve already told you
, haven’t I,
that the house is on the side of the mou
ntain just behind Massa Piccola?
You’ll like Massa – it’s a very pretty small Roman town.’

‘I think you did.’ She slid back up in her seat and star
ed
out of the window at the
lines of
ripening g
rapes and groves of olive trees
that were flashing by
.
Every so often,
they passed
a pale grey stone house
, set against the backdrop of
hills and
a clear blue sky.
‘What’s the
geometra
like?’

‘A bit oily, I suppose, but h
e obviously knows his job. H
e’s more than just a surveyor
, though
. H
e’s very artistic and he’s taken a great deal of care over the restoration.
Obviously the bathroom and kitchen f
ittings
are
modern, but every
thing
else
in the house is original fourteenth or fifteenth century, restored to the highest standard. Sometimes I think he loves the house as much as I do.’

‘It sounds like y
ou were lucky to find him.’

‘I
certainly
was. But you’ll be able to make up your mind about him for yourself – you’ll see quite a bit of him over the next few days. I
’ve
asked him to make himself available for the week. It’s worth the outlay
.
I’m only here for a very short time and every second’s got to count.’

‘What’s his name?’

‘Eduardo di Montefiori. He’s from Umbria.
One of the lesser nobility, I believe. But talking of family, Evie, what about you? Have you got family in Italy?
You said
your grandmother was Italian.’

‘No one that I know of. My gran married an Englishman and they lived in London, but she was useless at English, and when Dad was born, she spoke to him in Italian
only
. They went to Italy a few times when Dad was young, but not a lot, and we sort of lost contact with the Italian side of the family over the years. Gran died soon after I was born, and it was my dad who taught me Italian
–
really to stop himself from forgetting it, I think.’

‘He did a good job
. Y
ou speak the language like a native.’

‘That’s because I worked in a hotel near Lake Garda when I left school. I wanted to keep
the
Italian
up
as I thought it might be useful one day. And I was right, wasn’t I?’ She smiled at him. ‘It
has
come in useful
–
I’m here now, aren’t I?’

‘Indeed you are. And what’s more, it’s been a strikingly original presence so far, if I may say so.’

She laughed. ‘I’m not going to rise to that.’

‘So where do your parents live now?’

‘Believe it or not
,
Australia.
Two years a
fter Italy, I left Suffolk and went
and
share
d
a house in Camden Town with Rachel a
nd Jess – my mates from school. Mum and D
ad decided to emigrate to Australia.
They’d wanted to go for ages
–
friends of theirs went years ago and love it
there
.
They must have
been there over a year now.
I haven’t bee
n to visit them yet, but when I’m able
to go, they’ll send the money for a ticket. They sound really happy, and good luck to them, I say. I’ve got Rachel and Jess and my other friends so I’m not exactly alone.’

She leaned back against the seat, and smiled to herself
. T
hat
was nice of him to show an interest in her family. A sense of relaxation crept over her in the warmth of the day and her eyes started to close.

Holy cow! Her eyes flew open and s
he sat up fast. This was her mom
ent and she’d almost missed it
.

She’d been getting so comfortable that she’d almost forgotten why she was there. The minute he’d asked
her
about her family he’d opened the door to her
learning something
more about him
other
than whether he took milk wit
h his coffee. She could now put
the same personal question
to him
without it looking like she’d overstepped the employer/employee line. Oh, joy unbounded!

‘It’s your turn now, Tom,’ she said brightly. ‘
I’ve told you about my family. W
hat about yours?’

‘
My parents live in Devon, where I was brought up. I don’t see them as much as I’d like to, but we’ll catch up
when they come over in August.
There’s not much more to tell you,
I’m afraid,
and if there w
as
, there wouldn’t be time
–
welcome to Massa Piccola, Evie. We’re
here
.’

Fuck Massa Piccola!

She
’d been on the verge of
delving into
his background,
and
now
she’d have to stop
.
Why couldn’t they hav
e reached the place a bit later?
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

Biting back her frustration, s
he stared fixedly through the windscreen ahead of her
as
Tom drove
up to the
small
piazza
that was obviously the centre of town and
turned right. As he started up the
hill leading away from the town, she
glanced to the left
and
caught a fleeting glimpse of mustard yellow and terracotta houses
through an arch on the far side of the
piazza
.

She sat back. What mega bad timing! Now she’d have to wait for another suitable moment to arise
,
and
almost certainly
she’d have to be the one to bring up the subject of family, which wouldn’t be nearly as good.

‘It’s a pity that you won’t be able to see much of the view,’ Tom said as he turned off the
hill
on to a narrow, unpaved road which wound up the side of the mountain, ‘but the trees block the view
on both sides
for most of the way up. You’ll get a chance in a few minutes, though.’

‘I can’t wait,’ she said, staring dejectedly through the windscreen at the
pebble-strewn
track ahead of them. She gave herself a sharp
mental
kick –
if she didn’t
get a grip on
herself
,
she’d b
low the whole thing
. She switched on a look of eager anticipation. ‘I’m dying to see it.’

He gave her a quick smile and she saw the excitement in his eyes.

A massive wave of guilt
swept over her.

Yes, a promising mo
ment had been nipped in the bud,
but so what
?
Even if Tom
had
had an affair with his client, he
was a nice man
, who’d been
very
pleasant
to her,
and he deserved better from her than he’d been
getting. S
he was
in danger of
becoming
so
obsessed by
why she was in Italy
that she
wasn’t
giving a moment’s thought to his needs
as a person
.
She could do better than that, and she would.

He turn
ed sharply
to the right, and she glimpsed the sky
ahead
through a gap in the trees at the top of
a
steep stretch of track.
He
lowered the gear and they started to climb the slope.

‘W
e’re not far off
now,’ he said. ‘
You’ll be able to see the house at any minute.’

Just before they reached the gap in the trees, the road curved sharply to the left. Tom swung the wheel hard into the turn and brought the car to a shuddering halt on the brow of the hill. ‘Look to the right, Evie.’

She turned her head and stared across sweeping golden fields and olive groves to a grey stone house that sat on the side of the mountain
. A
square tower
rose
from the back of
the
roof of the house,
its
small windows look
ing
out across the
countryside
.

‘My God, what a fantastic spot it’s in! And the house
–
it’s awesome, Tom.’ She turned back to him. ‘Really
,
it is. No wonder you like it so much.’

‘It
is
something special, isn’t it?’ He glanced at his watch. ‘We’re a little early.
With luck,
Eduardo
won’t be
here yet
. I’d like to
show you the garden and pool myself.’

He started the car up again and drove along the uneven track until they reached two large wrought-iron gates flanked by stone gateposts. The gates were wide open.

‘Oh, he’s already
here
.’ There was disappointment in his voice. ‘Shame. I’d have rather enjoyed wander
ing
around by ourselves
for a bit
.’

As
he
drove through the open gates
in
to the parking area, Evie caught sight of a tall, slim man wearing tailored black trousers and a black open-necked shirt. He was leaning
casually
against a sleek black convertible parked under a pergola on the right of the drive.
             
Tom drove past the man and pulled up
opposite the
convertible. He switched the engine off and opened the car door. The man in black immediately straightened up and came towards them, arms outstretched in welcome, the heavy silver buckle on his leather belt glinting in the sunlight.

‘Il mio amico, Tom. Benvenuto in Italia.’

A row of perfect white teeth rivalled the sheen on the silver buckle.