What Happens in Tuscany... (19 page)

‘Great idea. And maybe a jug of water as well, Paul. It's so hot, even if it is gone six.' She saw him look up towards the sky.

‘They say we've got another couple of days of this and then, hopefully, we'll get some rain.'

She laughed. ‘It's funny hearing an Englishman hoping for rain in the middle of summer.' He disappeared into the house and she took a good look round. The view from here was to the west, along the valley of the River Arno. The sun was dropping lower on the horizon and already beginning to develop a deep red colour. It was still suffocatingly hot, though. The hillside all round the house was covered in olive trees; just right for a man in his profession.

He returned with an ice bucket. In it were a foil-topped bottle and a bottle of mineral water. He disappeared again, only to reappear almost immediately with a tray. On it were dishes of nuts, crisps and olives. Alongside this was another plate, this time covered in slices of ham and cheese. A pile of bread completed the array.

‘The cheese is pecorino from a shepherd just over the other side of the hill. The ham comes from that chap's next-door neighbour. It's maybe not quite as good as Marco's beloved Cynthia, but I think you'll like it.' He tore the foil off the Prosecco and opened it with a gentle hiss. He produced two glasses and filled them. ‘Here, Katie. A toast: to the arrival of the sirens in Monte a Signa.'

She held up her glass, clinked it against his and took a mouthful. ‘I told you; we aren't sirens. We have no intention of leading any sailors astray.'

‘It's not sailors I'm worried about.' He grinned at her. ‘You and Victoria are a dangerous combination. One beautiful girl in a flashy sports car is one thing, but two together? That's potentially lethal.' He pushed the plates of food towards her and took a seat at the end of the table close to her elbow. He picked a couple of pieces of ham and some bread from one of the plates and handed it down to the ever-hungry dog. It disappeared down his throat without touching the sides. Paul shook his head regretfully. ‘He doesn't really pause to savour his food, does he?'

They sat in silence for a few moments. Katie tried the ham and made appreciative noises. She allowed herself two pieces before taking a break. Looking up, she caught his eye. ‘So, Paul Taylor, tell me all about yourself.' She took a mouthful of the wine and sat back.

‘What would you like to know?'

‘Oh, just everything.'

He gave her a broad grin. ‘Well, I was born at a very early age. My parents were living in the UK at that time so I was born in Guildford, the nearest hospital to the base.' He picked up a large piece of cheese and paused before putting it into his mouth. ‘He was in the army.'

‘And your mum was Italian?'

He nodded, his mouth still full of cheese. He reached out and indicated that she should try a piece. She did so and grunted in approval.

‘We moved here when I was a little nipper and I went to school here until I was 13. Then, because my dad had been killed while on Her Majesty's business, I was sent to a terribly expensive public school in the UK at the British government's expense.' He caught her eye. ‘Boarding schools are right up there alongside tapioca pudding as some of the worst inventions the English ever made. I really, really hated it; at least the first few years. And the food… Anyway, from there I went to Cambridge and, as soon as I qualified, I came back here and set up my business. Right, I've told you mine, so what about yours? How come you speak such good Italian, for instance?'

Katie gave him an abbreviated life story and they carried on chatting. By the end, they both knew each other a lot better, though she hadn't mentioned either Martin or Dean to him. By this time, the sun was very low and it was beginning to get dark.

‘One good thing about this place is that there aren't any mosquitoes. Maybe we're too high up above the river, but, whatever the reason, we're fine here.' He refilled their glasses and took a deep breath. ‘I owe you an apology, Katie.' She looked up in surprise. ‘When I first heard you were at the Chalker-Pyne villa, it came as a hell of a shock and I overreacted. You see, I didn't get on well with old Sir Algernon. Not well at all.'

Katie could see that he was embarrassed and she did her best to help him. ‘Paul, Marco told me about your mum…and what happened.' She saw relief on his face.

‘He told you that, did he? And he told you about the old man's cancer and dumping my mum, and her death?'

Katie nodded. ‘The whole thing. Coupled with the way he locked his daughter up for twenty-five years, he must have been a right bloody nutcase.' To her surprise, he burst out laughing.

‘It's no laughing matter, I know, but I so rarely speak English to English people these days, I don't often hear words like nutcase.' His tone became more serious. ‘But you're right. He certainly was a nutcase. Anyway, I just wanted to apologise for being a bit offhand with you. And I intend to apologise to Victoria in person next time I see her.'

‘So is that why you disappeared from Marco's party the other night?' He nodded his head. Now it was her turn to take a deep breath. ‘Pity, I missed you.'

‘I missed you too.' He picked up his wine and swallowed the remains of the glass. ‘More wine?'

She looked across at him and shook her head. The sun was just a red ball on the horizon now and the shadows under the loggia hid his face from sight. What she could see of him, his broad shoulders, his close-cropped hair and one strong arm illuminated by the last red rays of the sun, looked good, really good. Here in this spectacularly romantic place she knew that she could so easily fall for him. She sat in silence for a few moments while she processed her thoughts. He really could be The One. But she didn't want to jump into another relationship. She had been adamant about that. Why should she risk complicating what was turning out to be the best time of her life? But, if this was the right man for her, then why wait? She reached out, took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

‘I'd better go. It's been great seeing you, but I'd better head for home now.' She pushed the chair away and stood up, hearing the dog jump to his feet beside her. ‘I've enjoyed this evening. I really have.' She looked across at his shadowy shape. ‘I like you, Paul Taylor. I like you a lot.'

She felt his hand turn in hers and their fingers entwined. ‘And I like you too, Katherine Parr. A lot. You know where I live now. Come back and see me, please. I'm not going anywhere. Come whenever you like.' Then he released her and stood up. ‘Do you want me to walk you home?'

She shook her head. ‘No, there's no need. I've got my guard dog with me. Thanks a lot, Paul. I've enjoyed being with you. Goodnight.' She leant up and kissed him softly on both cheeks. ‘Come on, Dante, we're going home.'

Chapter Sixteen

Next morning they had two early visitors. The first came when it was still only around seven o'clock. Katie was woken by the sound of scratching, coming from downstairs. Although she was getting used to the house and no longer felt creeped out by the dustsheets and shadowy corridors, the noise had her wide awake in a flash. She tiptoed downstairs and was soon relieved to discover the source of the noise. Upon unlocking the back door she found none other than Dante the Labrador standing on the step, wagging his tail furiously.

‘So you managed to find a way in, did you?' As she said it, she found herself wondering how a dog could get over a four-metre wall. Presumably he had some secret canine entrance. And how was it he knew they were staying in the villa? She scratched his head. ‘Come on in. It's breakfast time.'

She put on the kettle and dug out the paper bag containing yesterday's bread. She carved off a generous chunk and passed it down to him. He took it with his usual delicacy and sprawled out on the floor to eat it. As she made the tea, she spared a thought for Victoria, presumably still upstairs in bed.

Tom and Victoria had returned from their date the previous night just before midnight. Katie heard his car pull up outside the opera singer's villa, but she tactfully stayed in the kitchen. Victoria came in a full ten minutes later looking like the cat that had got the cream.

‘Did you have a good evening?' Katie could see the answer written all over Vicky's face.

‘Fantastic, awesome.'

‘So, where did he take you? Are you sure you weren't seen?'

Victoria smiled. ‘Quite safe. He took me on a picnic. There's this amazing place on a hill, with views across to the towers of San Gimignano. There are just four umbrella pines up there, and nobody anywhere about.' She caught Katie's eye. ‘Nobody at all. We could have done anything, anything we wanted.' She blushed.

‘And the food?'

‘Cold roast chicken and champagne, followed by strawberries. I can't fault the man's taste.' She looked across at Katie. ‘He's a very, very nice man, you know.'

‘So you think you might quite fancy him?'

‘I think I might even have the hots for him.' Katie had beamed at the appropriate use of vocabulary by her star pupil.

Katie was brought back to the present by footsteps on the wooden floor of the corridor. Vicky was awake.

‘Hello, Dante. You've come for breakfast, have you?' He thumped his tail on the ground but didn't interrupt his meal. Victoria perched on the tabletop and looked across at Katie.

‘Morning, Katie. Sleep well?'

‘Yes, I did, as a matter of fact. The best night's sleep I've had for weeks.'

At that moment, their second visitor of the day appeared. They were both surprised to hear the front door open. They looked at each other in surprise for a moment before Katie went out into the corridor to see what was happening. There, standing just inside the door was Paul Taylor, looking as astonished to see her as she was to see him. She glanced down at her T-shirt and shorts, rather regretting not having put on pants or a bra, such had been her haste to find the source of the mysterious scratching. Surreptitiously she let her fingers run down to her front. Luckily she had, at least, buttoned up her fly.

‘Well, well, well. And here's me thinking the squatters had moved in.' Paul walked down the corridor towards her. At the sound of his voice, Dante came running out of the kitchen to greet him. The big black dog stood up on his hind legs and licked his hands. Paul scratched the Labrador's nose. ‘
Ciao, bello.
'

‘Hi, Paul. It's good to see you.' And it was. Before she could stop herself, Katie found herself adding, ‘It's
very
good to see you.' She restrained a sudden urge to kiss him and led him into the kitchen where she was amused to see Vicky desperately doing up the buttons of her stripy pyjamas.

‘Sorry if I've arrived at an awkward time, ladies. I'm afraid I didn't realise anybody was in here. I drop in every now and then to check up on the place.' He smiled at Katie. ‘But of course, you know that. That's how we met the other day, after all. So this is where you girls are hiding out. What a good idea. It never occurred to me last night to ask you, Katie.'

She smiled back at him, really pleased to see him again so soon. ‘I could have told you myself, but I got sidetracked. I'm afraid I quite forgot to let you know.' Minor details like where she was now living hadn't even crossed her mind the previous night as the sun went down over the River Arno and the shadows lengthened across his handsome face.

‘I wondered how you were going to avoid all the newsmen and photographers and this is the perfect place.' Paul turned to Victoria. ‘I'm very sorry about all the publicity. I'm afraid it must have been somebody at Marco's party the other night who passed on the photos. I've been doing my best to think who it might have been, and although there are a couple of possible culprits, so far I've had no success.'

Victoria gave him a smile. ‘Don't worry about it. Sooner or later it would have come out.' She glanced across at Katie. ‘The papers seem fascinated by the story. I suppose I'm a bit of a queer fish, after all. The “reclusive millionairess” thing wasn't of my making. I'm afraid it was my father's doing.' Unaware of Paul's connection with her father she explained. ‘He was a strange man.'

A shadow passed across Paul Taylor's face and disappeared without trace. He caught her eye and smiled back at her. ‘You can say that again. We'll have to have a talk about him one of these days.'

Katie had the teapot in her hand. ‘I've just made tea. Fancy a cup or does your Italian blood insist on coffee at this hour?'

‘I'd love a cup of tea, thanks. Just a drop of milk in it, no sugar.'

‘Well, take a seat. As you can see, we've made this our hiding place until the paparazzi go off in search of a juicier subject.' She passed the cups of tea across the table.

‘No sign of that happening yet, I'm afraid. There's a regular little favela set up down by your gates. Everybody who goes up or down the road gets photographed and interviewed.'

‘Have you been interviewed?' Victoria sounded very interested.

‘Oh yes. I told them I heard you talking about a visit to Iceland to see the volcanoes. You never know, some of the more gullible ones may have bought it.'

‘Well, thanks for trying. That was very kind.' Katie reached for the bread and jam, conscious of the dog's eyes following her every move. In spite of herself, she smiled.

‘Breakfast, Paul?'

‘No thanks. I've got a banana in the truck. So how are you two passing the time while you are in purdah?' Before they could comment, Paul revealed that he knew a good bit about what went on up there on his hillside. ‘My spies tell me a certain young lady was seen in a certain red Ferrari a few days ago. Now, I wonder which one of you that was?'

Victoria raised her hand. ‘That was me, Paul. Filippo took me out for lunch.' Katie was delighted to glimpse what could have been a brief expression of relief on Paul's face. She met his eyes for a second and what she saw confirmed her feeling. He had a thought.