What Happens in Tuscany... (22 page)

‘Wow. That is amazing.' Katie was seriously impressed, but that was nothing compared to Vicky's reaction. A series of incoherent whoops emanated from the back seat as Paul indicated right and turned off at the next exit. Katie had to keep reminding herself that seaside holidays were a novelty for Vicky, in spite of all her wealth.

Paul looked across at her. ‘My farmer is about ten kilometres inland of here. I'll drop you girls down by the beach and then go off to see him. I shouldn't be too long. I'm just doing some tests today.' He glanced at his watch. ‘I reckon I should be back here by about twelve or just after. I'll take you to one of the busier areas this morning where you won't be all alone. If you like, this afternoon we can go for somewhere a bit more isolated. OK?'

He dropped them in the middle of a little town, right by the promenade, and told them he would come back as soon as he could. It certainly wasn't isolated. The whole place was absolutely packed with people on holiday. Of course they were well into August, the month when most of Italy closes down for the holidays. Both of them felt almost claustrophobic. The beach was divided into private strips where you had to pay for the privilege of squeezing in alongside a hundred other people under your uniform umbrella with regulation two sunbeds. They handed over a small fortune to a bored young man at the bar and set up camp under their umbrella. At least the entry fee included the use of showers and changing rooms, so they were able to put on their bikinis without trouble.

After a while, they risked an excursion into the water which turned out to be a delightful temperature and perfectly clean and clear, as was the sand under their feet. Grudgingly they had to admit that maybe the beach authorities were doing their job well, in spite of the crowds. By the time they had bought themselves a couple of cappuccini at the bar, they were feeling better. Now that they had stripped to their bikinis, the bored young barman revealed a hitherto unsuspected affability and verbosity. He came and stood by their table, studying their near naked bodies with noticeable aesthetic appreciation and offering information about the Etruscans who had populated these lands before the advent of the Romans. Katie was delighted to see that this close anatomical examination by the young man did not in any way phase Victoria. Clearly she had bounced back from the horrors of yesterday. After the third time he told them that Romulus and Remus were of Etruscan origin, they decamped back to their umbrella and read until Paul arrived just before one o'clock.

‘Sorry I'm late. The old boy hadn't told me he wanted me to look at his son-in-law's trees as well as his own. Instead of 300, it was more like 500. Anyway, what would you like to do now? Stay here or head for somewhere a bit less crowded?'

‘No contest.' Katie was already picking up her things. She collected the two bikinis they had used for their swim from the washing line, pleased to feel that they had already dried out completely in the sun. Vicky rolled up their towels and they followed Paul out to the car. In true Italian fashion he had left it in the middle of the road, right outside the entry to the beach. They climbed in and he set off.

‘What about food? Want to stop for something?' They had already discussed this. Vicky answered for both of them.

‘We're fine for now. We wondered if you might like an early meal before we set off back home again. Our treat, to say thank you to the driver.'

‘And round here there must be somewhere we could get some good fish.' Katie had been looking forward to that.

‘Seafood is my big weakness.' Paul gave her a smile. ‘That sounds like a marvellous idea. I think I might even know a good place, if it's open. Anyway, I've got fruit and water in the back. We should be OK for a few hours. Now, let's see if I can remember where it was I came last time.'

He headed down the coast on a series of little back roads towards a distant headland, their route running parallel to the continuous pine forest. Partway along, he located what he was looking for. An old wooden sign outside a stone farmhouse on the left advertised melons for sale and a huge heap of melons, several metres high, was visible in the courtyard. Directly opposite, a sandy track led into the woods. He swung the big vehicle onto the track and they bumped down there for several hundred metres until they could go no further. He pulled up under the trees and they got out. They had the place to themselves.

‘I can see why you didn't want to leave us here on our own. It's a bit spooky. Specially after the crowds up the coast.'

‘It's not spooky when we reach the beach, I promise.' Suddenly, Paul stopped and raised a finger to his lips. Both girls froze. Very slowly, he pointed upwards to one side of the clearing. ‘Look.' They could barely hear his whisper. ‘Up there, just above the big bend in the trunk. Do you see him?'

There was the slightest movement and they saw him all right. It was a gorgeous little red squirrel. The animal stood and surveyed them for a while before turning and disappearing into the higher branches. They all let out their breath with a whoosh.

‘That's the first red squirrel I've ever seen. If it starts raining now and the day is ruined, that sighting will have justified the trip for me.' Vicky sounded enchanted. ‘Quite marvellous.'

Paul lifted a bag and a beach umbrella out of the back of the car and put them on the ground at his feet. He looked across at them. ‘Well, you can take it from me, it isn't going to rain. In fact, if we see a cloud, I'd be surprised. Now, do you think you could manage the umbrella between you while I bring the food and drink?'

They lifted it easily and he led them less than a hundred metres through the pine forest. The perfume of resin was in the air and the pine needles underfoot crackled as they walked.

‘This definitely isn't a place to throw away a burning match.'

They pressed on and less than a minute after leaving the car, they emerged onto the beach.

‘Not quite as crowded here, is it?' He gave them both a broad smile.

‘Wow! I didn't think places like this still existed in Europe.' Katie was immensely impressed, and she had seen a few nice beaches in her time. She could only guess at what Vicky was feeling.

The beach was totally empty as far as they could see, as it curved away to their left. To the right they could just make out the distant colours of deckchairs and buildings several kilometres up the coast. They had the whole place to themselves.

Paul planted the umbrella and opened it up. It was immensely hot in the direct sunlight, but once in the shade, a slight sea breeze made the temperature ideal. The girls sat down on their towels in the shade while surreptitiously watching Paul Taylor as he stripped to his swimming shorts. The resulting body was very impressive. Confident that her dark glasses would hide her interest, Katie studied him carefully. He wasn't over-muscled like Marco's South African friend, maybe not as muscular as Martin, but his shoulders were broad, his stomach flat, his abs strong and his skin tone perfect. She gave a little sigh. Beside her, she could have sworn she heard Vicky growl.

‘If you don't mind, ladies, I'm dying for a swim.'

He hopped awkwardly across the burning sand to the water's edge and splashed gratefully out into the sea. It was very shallow and he walked a fair way before it was deep enough for him to dive forwards and swim away. Katie watched him keep up a steady front crawl until he was little more than a dot in the ocean.

‘Now that's what I call a very attractive man.' Vicky had been reading her mind.

‘He certainly is.' Not for the first time she reflected, with regret, that Paul and Loretta were still an item. Ever since the first time she had seen him, Katie had known she had a connection with him. She reached for a big bottle of mineral water and drank deeply, determined to enjoy the day, whatever regrets she might harbour.

They spent a lovely, lazy afternoon on the beach. They all went for a swim and Vicky, in particular, was blown away by the experience of swimming in a warm sea. When Paul produced a mask and snorkel from his bag and showed her how to use it, she disappeared for almost an hour. While she was away, Paul lay close beside Katie on his towel. They were completely alone and it was so quiet she could hear him breathing. Katie knew full well that, had it not been for what she had seen in Florence the previous day, she wouldn't have withdrawn her leg on those occasions when she felt him touch her. When he let his head slide sideways until his face was directly opposite hers, she would not have rolled over, presenting him with the back of her head. Indeed, she though to herself sadly, under other circumstances she would most probably have been all over him like a rash. As it was, they had a pleasant, but not intimate afternoon.

Round about six o'clock, they collected their belongings and headed back to the car. Paul said he knew of a pizzeria that advertised seafood as well as pizzas and which claimed to be open from five o'clock every day.

His memory was working well and he managed to locate it without trouble. He led them in and they took up a table on the terrace, looking directly out over the sea. They were looking due west and the sun was already dipping in the sky. Once again a red sunset promised the continuation of the good weather at least for another day. Paul checked the menu and smiled broadly. He addressed himself to Victoria.

‘Ever tried
fritto misto
?' She shook her head.

‘I've never even heard of it.'

He caught her eye. ‘Like fish?' She nodded. ‘Not allergic to seafood, shellfish, that sort of thing?' She shook her head so he glanced at Katie and raised his eyebrows. She grinned back at him.

‘I'll have what she's having.' Absently she reflected that
When Harry Met Sally
would be a good movie to add to Vicky's to-see list. Paul motioned to the waiter.

‘Three
fritti misti
and some white wine please.' The waiter nodded.

‘Water?'

‘Yes please.'

‘Sparkling or natural?' The usual litany. Paul glanced at the girls and they opted for plain water. The waiter scribbled on his pad then went off in the direction of the kitchen. They settled down to nibble bread sticks and chat.

The waiter soon returned with a litre carafe of white wine and the bottle of water. He set them down on the table and withdrew. At this time of the evening they had the terrace to themselves and it was lovely and quiet, apart from the constant hum of the cicadas.

‘I've had a really, really super day, today, Paul.' Vicky looked as happy as she sounded. ‘It was really kind of you to invite us.'

‘You're very welcome. You're both very welcome.' He poured some wine into their glasses and proposed a toast. ‘Here's to many long sunny days.'

They all drank to that. He pushed back his chair and went off to wash his hands. While he was away, Vicky leant towards Katie. ‘Katie, surely you can't tell me you don't have designs on Paul?'

‘Designs on Paul? I know what you mean, but that's straight out of Dickens.' To give herself time to come up with a response to what was a very difficult question, she continued with the English lesson. ‘Now you know what you should have said, what we say these days.'

While her student was searching for the correct response, she did her best to give an honest answer. ‘Anyway, the answer is no, Vicky. No designs on Paul. I might have had, but somehow I get the impression there may be somebody else in the equation. It could be complicated.' She gave her a smile. ‘And the twenty-first century way of saying to have designs on is…?'

‘To fancy.' Vicky acknowledged her mistake. ‘Or even have the hots for. And then there was that crush thing, and the one about the pants, wasn't there? I did know, it was just force of habit. I'm getting there, honest.' She caught Katie's eye, suddenly serious. ‘That's a real shame. I could see the two of you together.'

Katie didn't reply, but she had to admit to herself that the same sense of regret had been floating round in her mind since yesterday. When Paul came back to the table, Katie excused herself and went out in her turn. She took a long, hard look at herself in the mirror as she washed her hands. She had certainly caught the sun and her face, neck and bare shoulders were turning a nice brown. Even her nose, that had a tendency to glow red upon exposure to the sun, was behaving itself. All in all, she was pretty satisfied by her reflection.
If it weren't for dear old Loretta, bloody right I'd have designs on Paul Taylor. And I'd stand a bloody good chance as well
. She grinned at the face in the mirror and went back to the table.

Just at that moment, the first two plates of food arrived. The waiter laid them in front of the two girls and went back to the kitchen for the third.

‘Wow! That's quite something.' Vicky now knew what a real
fritto misto
looked like. And if the wonderful aroma of seafood wafting up from the plates was anything to go by, the taste wasn't going to disappoint. ‘I can see, fish, squid, prawns, maybe even octopus.'

Paul caught Katie's eye. She caught the same puzzled expression he had been wearing all day. It was pretty clear he had no idea she had seen him with Loretta and he couldn't work out why she was keeping him at arm's length. She gave him a hint of a smile before dropping her eyes to study her own plate. The fish was steaming hot, fresh from the pan and served on top of a sheet of absorbent brown paper that would collect any excess oil. The waiter returned with the third portion and a huge plate of fries.

‘
Buon appetito.
' He gave them a nod of the head and left.

‘It looks like the real McCoy.' Katie reached for a prawn in batter and blew on it. Paul caught her eye.

‘And tastes like it.' He was relaxed and smiling once more. By this time, Katie was crunching her way through the prawn.

‘God, that's good.' Clearly, Victoria agreed.