Sicilian Dreams (15 page)

‘How long have the villas been operational’ asked Cassie.

‘For three years now.’

‘What does your father think now?’

‘Now he is happy. He thinks it was all his idea,’ said Marco, grinning at her. ‘I told you Cassie, he is hard man to please.’ Cassie realized that subject was now closed to discussion much as she would have enjoyed di
scussing it further. Eduardo reappeared at their table carrying a platter containing a whole fish baked in a salt crust, while another waiter stepped up to their table carrying two plates and a bowl of mixed salad.

‘Sea bass’ announced Eduardo, breaking the crust with the fish slice and then carefully pulling the tail up from the platter. He used a fork to peel away the flesh and carefully filleted portions of the fish, removing any bones before placing it on to their plates. The aromas of gently cooked fish and lemon wafted up to Cassie and she felt her mouth beginning to water. He added lemon wedges and passed Cassie her plate then did the same for Marco. Finally he suggested that they drizzle the house olive oil over the fish.

‘Bon appetito’ he said again, refilling their wine glasses and putting the bottle back in an ice bucket beside their table. The fish melted in Cassie’s mouth and she couldn’t suppress a groan of satisfaction. ‘Mm, this is sublime,’ she cooed happily.

‘Are you pleased now that I ordered for you?’ said Marco, smiling at her and taking a mouthful of fish. ‘Si, it is buono,’ he agreed. They finished the fish and even though it seemed to Cassie like they had eaten a lot of food, she didn’t feel over full or uncomfortable. It was a different story on her rear end though as she moved gingerly in her chair again, trying to get comfort
able. Damn, I really need some Aloe Vera cream she thought.

‘Is your chair uncomfortable?’ asked Marco, watching her as she leaned her body slightly to the side, resting her forearm on the arm of the chair, in order to lift her most sun burned side off the seat.

‘No, no’ lied Cassie, ‘just a little stiff like I told you.’ She sat back in her chair and pretended that she didn’t feel a thing.

‘Okay. Without being presumptuous again and ordering something before I have consulted you, would you like some dessert?’ he asked.

‘I should say no but I have a feeling that it would be my loss. What do you suggest maestro?’ she smiled over at him.

‘Now that you have acknowledged my superior authority, at least at this table’ he laughed, ‘m
ight I suggest the Soufflé’ al Cioccolato, and a Sicilian Cannoli, which is a traditional pastry. The desserts are all made in house. I personally recommend them.’ he said with a theatrical flourish.

He gave their order for dessert and espresso to a passing waiter, just as two young men carrying guitars stepped onto the terrace and sat down at an unoccupied table. They casually set up a sound system and then began to play a medley of songs, from modern Italian songs, which Cassie didn’t recognize, through to jazz and some Frank Sinatra. The vocalist had a clear, melodic voice and Cassie was spellbound by the entertainment unfolding before them. It’s like a movie, she thought. These people are so natural and unselfconscious. She clapped enthusiastically at the end of each song and even sang along quietly to the ones she recognized.

Suddenly Marco stood up and grabbed her hand, swinging her up from her chair and onto an impromptu dance floor between the tables. His arm went around her waist as he twirled her around the floor, the other diners clapping and cheering them on. Several of the children at the large family table got up to join them, causing more whistles and cheers and Cassie felt herself caught up in the moment, looking up into Marco’s eyes and he spun her once more and he lent her back in his arms in a tango finish at the end of the song. Pink cheeked and laughing, they returned to their table, Marco dropping an E20 note into the cap of one of the singers, which had been discreetly placed on the floor at his feet.

‘You are a pretty good dancer yourself Marco’ said Cassie. ‘You are very light on your feet. Where did you learn to dance like that?’

‘At school, where else?’ said Marco. ‘It was the best way to meet girls so I used to turn up for all the lessons.’ he added with a cheeky grin.

Their desserts were placed in the middle of the table so they could share them and each one was a work of perfection. The chocolate soufflé had a little raspberry compote next to it and a scoop of vanilla gelato. Cassie dipped her spoon into the soufflé and liquid chocolate flowed out as she lifted it to her mouth. ‘Mm, this is heaven,’ she said with delight, licking the back of her spoon. Try some Marco before I eat it all.’

‘Okay, but try the cannoli as well.’ he said. Cassie broke a little of the crisp shell with her spoon and scooped it up with a generous blob of the filling. ‘Unbelievable.’ she exclaimed. ‘What is in the filling, it’s to die for.’

‘It is ricotta whipped with fine sugar and chocolate chips. There are small pieces of candied orange rind in there as well.’ He broke off a piece and tasted it. ‘Just as good as I remembered. The shells are so crisp and Roco only fills them at the last minute before serving.’

‘You seem to know quite a bit about cooking,’ observed Cassie.

‘It is a very Italian thing to know about food and how to prepare it,’ said Marco.

Cassie tried not to eat anymore but it was impossible and she nibbled away as they chatted, pausing only to take a sip of her wine every now and again. Soon there was nothing left except a few crumbs on the plate.

‘Oh dear’ she said, ‘I think I will have to run back to the villa to wear this lot off.’

‘No, I can think of a much more pleasurable way for you to burn off any excess calories you may have consumed today,’ he grinned at her wickedly. ‘Why don’t we finish up here and go back to the villa for a little siesta in my bedroom.’ he whispered, leaning over the table and taking her hand, gently massaging the inside of her palm between her thumb and forefinger. The feeling was electric and seemed to spread immediately to every nerve ending in her body. Unconsciously she licked her lower lip with her tongue.

‘You can use that pretty pink tongue on me later on.’ Cassie blushed and Marco laughed and signaled to a waiter for their bill. Cassie realized it would be useless trying to share the bill with Marco but she asked anyway and was given a firm rebuff.

‘Cassandra, you are my guest. Please do not offend me with your offer of payment.’

He pushed back his chair and came around to pull hers out for her. She managed to stand without groaning. Offering her his hand, they strolled back inside the restaurant, stopping to thank an effusive Eduardo, who kissed them both on the cheeks and told them to return again soon.

The shops had re opened as they rode back through the old town slowly on Marco’s bike, Cassie having managed to get astride the big machine again without exposing herself. Must apply more cream when I get back to the villa she thought then remembered what Marco had said about a siesta in his bedroom. What was he thinking, she thought. What if Marta is in the house, or anybody else for the matter? Much as she was excited about the prospect of making love with Marco again she didn’t like the idea of sneaking in and out of his bedroom. Like a bit on the side, she thought tartly, clinging on to Marco as he accelerated and they raced up the hill and out of the old town. I will ask him to take me straight back to Villa Tramonte she decided. Liz and Kat will have finished their cooking lesson and are probably having a lovely siesta. It sounded like a good idea, especially after her long lunch.

She needn’t have worried herself unduly because as Marco turned into the circular driveway in front of the main villa, she saw another car she didn’t recognize parked directly in front of the big double front doors. It was a late model silver colored four wheel drive Mercedes. Cassie heard Marco curse as he stopped abruptly with a crunch of tires on the gravel, killing the engine. Curious, she jumped off the bike and took off her helmet.

He took his off too and slung them both on the bike seat, running his hands through his long curly dark hair, which kept flopping onto his forehead. Turning to her with a flat expression he announced, ‘I see my father has decided to pay me a visit. I hope he brought my mother.’ He took her hand and led her towards the front doors.

‘Marco, you don’t have to take me inside. Why don’t you just take me back to the villa?’ she suggested lamely.

‘No, I want you to meet them. They will be as enchanted as I am.’ he said stubbornly. Cassie couldn’t help feeling like a decoy as they walked into the foyer and then left into the big salon. It looked different in the daytime but Cassie couldn’t help blushing a little as she remembered what they had been doing last night.

‘Ah ciao Marco’ said a tall man with greying hair, a slight smile on his face. He walked towards them from the open French doors his arms open in a welcoming gesture. He had grey eyes instead of Marco’s green ones, but he was just an older, well preserved Marco she thought. Must have strong family genes she thought absently noting the patrician nose and finely carved lips on both men.

‘Ciao Papa’ said Marco, in the same serious tone. Both men approached each other tentatively, embracing stiffly. Marco
immediately turned to Cassie.  ‘Papa, ti presento Signorina Cassandra Hayden. Cassandra, this is my father, Antonio Boschieri.’ Antonio stepped forward immediately and took Cassie’s hand in both of his.

‘Piacere Cassandra, you are staying here on the estate?’ he asked.

‘Piacere’ said Cassie. ‘Yes, I am staying at Villa Tramonte with two friends. You have a very beautiful estate Signor Boschieri. We are enjoying our holiday immensely.’

‘Please call me Antonio,’ he said, smiling at her. ‘I am very happy that you are enjoying your holiday here. Do you like what Marco has done to Villa Tramonte? It is comfortable, no?’ he asked.

‘Yes, it is superb. The old and the new blend together so seamlessly. It’s low key and elegant and I want to steal all his ideas for my own home,’ she added, laughing and looking up at Marco.

‘But where do you come from?’ he asked. ‘You are not Australian are you?’

‘Thank you for noticing the difference’ said Cassie, laughing again. ‘I am from New Zealand, although most people in this is part of the world would mistake us for Australians.’ she added.

‘But it is such a long way to travel. How long do you stay here for?’

‘We are here for one week only, but now I am here, I wish I could stay longer.’ said Cassie. ‘I know it seems short, but all of us live in different parts of the world and have busy lives. We had to plan this holiday a year ago to fit it into the schedule.’ He looked interested and clearly wanted to ask more questions but the sound of another voice calling out from the terrace interrupted them.

‘Antonio, where are you?’ The voice was soft and feminine.

‘I am right here Christina. Marco has arrived with a friend. We will come and join you immediately.’ Upon hearing his mother’s voice, Marco’s face lit up and he took Cassie’s hand, leading her to the French doors and out onto the terrace.

‘Mama’ he said walking over with quick steps to embrace a woman seated at a small round marble topped table. ‘When did you arrive?’ He bent down to kiss her and it was only then that Cassie saw she was sitting in a wheelchair.

‘We arrived about half an hour ago. Marta told us you had gone into town for lunch.’

‘Why didn’t you let me know you were coming,’ said Marco.

‘We only decided to drive up here after lunch. I was feeling a little better when I woke up this morning and I wanted to come and see you and Marta. Tonio kindly dropped everything to bring me.’ She was still a beautiful woman, thought Cassie. Petite, with beautiful, large green eyes and a small oval face, which was softly framed with short dark curls showing only a hint of grey here and there.

‘And also to see your beloved gardens’ he laughed softly.

‘Of course’ she admitted with a smile. ‘You know me Marco. I talk to Marta on the phone each week, but it is not the same as being here and seeing them for myself. But enough about me’ she said, maneuvering her chair around from the table and pushing herself towards Cassie. ‘Hello, I am Christina, Marco’s mother. I heard you talking inside with Tonio. It is very nice to meet you. She held out her small hand and Cassie took it.

‘Hi, I’m Cassie and it’s very nice to meet you too. Your garden is really beautiful. Did you do all this by yourself?’

‘Not all by myself, I had a lot of help, but I would love to take all the credit.’ she laughed. Years ago when I first came to live here with Tonio, the gardens, such as they were, were ornate but not practical. Quite old fashioned. I prefer a more natural look, not too much structure, a little softness around the edges. It is nice to see it is holding up so well after all these years. For that, I am indebted to Mario our gardener for his green fingers and his innate eye for detail. He looks after the gardens so well.’ She paused, shading her eyes and gazed out over the expansive swath of perfect green lawn with its lovely old oaks and ancient olive trees providing shade and interest, their gnarled trunks sculptures in themselves.

‘It all looks so lush and tropical and yet there are cacti as well,’ said Cassie.

‘Yes, it is possible to grow almost anything in Sicily,’ said Christina. ‘You seem interested in plants, do you have a garden?’