What Happens in Tuscany... (25 page)

‘I'm starting the new job on the first of September and I had a couple of weeks' holiday owed to me from my old job. They preferred me to take time off rather than pay me the extra, so I thought I'd give Italy a try. My sister works at the British Embassy in Rome and I'm going down there to see her, but, seeing as you were here, I knew I just had to come.' An expression of concern crossed his face. ‘You don't mind, do you? I'm not trying to crowd you, honest.'

‘Of course I don't mind.' She sat back and took a good look at him. The bruising on his face had now gone and, apart from the angle of his nose, he looked fit and healthy once more. He also looked very good. She noticed a woman about her age on a nearby table checking him out repeatedly, even though she was there with her boyfriend or husband. That felt rather good.

Martin managed to chomp his way through a whole Florentine steak the size of a telephone directory, but Katie disappointed the waiter by just ordering some grilled lamb chops. Even so, the quantity was enormous. By the time he finally dropped his fork back onto his plate and wiped his mouth on his napkin, both of them felt full. Too full even to manage a dessert. Instead they ordered coffee and sat back to recover.

‘It's really, really wonderful to see you, Katie. I was beginning to think I wouldn't find you. When I couldn't get in touch with you, and then when the old bat at the villa sent me packing, I thought I'd blown it completely.'

‘Rosina said she thought you were one of the paparazzi.'

‘Well, she chased me off with a broom. If the old Labrador hadn't been licking my hand all the time she would probably have set him on me.'

Katie laughed, in spite of herself. ‘I can imagine the scene.'

‘So, are you glad I came over to see you?'

‘What do you think?' She did her best to sound keen. It had been a surreal evening. First there had been her surprise to find he had come all the way to Italy to see her. No sooner had she got over the shock of seeing him than she found herself desperately trying to work out just how pleased she really was. His question had been a long time coming, but she still hadn't managed to formulate an answer that convinced her, let alone one capable of convincing him. He looked across the table at her, a smile on his face.

‘I don't know. I certainly hope you are. As for me, I've been counting the minutes.'

‘Well, of course I'm glad you've come.' She shifted slightly in her seat, her stomach full to bursting. She surreptitiously massaged her abdomen under the table. ‘I'm just so sorry you weren't able to contact me before because of my bloody phone being stolen.'

‘Would you have told me not to come?' He was looking worried now. She gave him a broad smile and reached over to take his hand.

‘Of course not. I'm glad you've come.' She took a good look at him. He was an intelligent, handsome man with a great body. And there was no doubt he was deeply into her. What was not to like? And yet, somehow she knew she wasn't as happy to see him as she might have been a few weeks before. What had changed since her arrival in Italy? Was it the place, or was it something else? Or was it someone else? Her head was spinning. It had all happened too fast. She needed to do some serious thinking.

She glanced at her watch. It was almost eleven. She made a quick decision. ‘Listen, Martin, I've got to get back to the villa. If Vicky gets home and doesn't find me there, after all the aggro we've had over the last week, she might freak out.' She knew full well that this wasn't true. In all probability, if Vicky's master plan worked out, she wouldn't be coming home that night at all. At worst, Vicky would call her on the phone, but it was a handy excuse. Unsurprisingly, he looked disappointed.

‘I understand. When will I see you again?'

‘You say you're staying at the station hotel?' He nodded. ‘Well, why don't I come down tomorrow morning and pick you up? Say, ten o'clock?'

He beckoned the waiter over and, in spite of her protests, paid the bill. Together they made their way to the door and walked out into the night. The rain had stopped and the night sky was studded with stars. The arrival of the rain had lowered the temperature and had reduced the humidity. It had turned into a beautiful night. She stood beside her car and breathed the fresh air gratefully while he came up behind her. His arms curled round her and she felt his body press against hers. He bent towards her and kissed her softly on the neck. She nuzzled against him.

‘Sorry if I'm a bit dozy. It's just the surprise of seeing you.' She turned her face towards him and caught his eye. ‘Good surprise, nice surprise; I'm just a bit overwhelmed and I've eaten too much. In fact I've eaten so much I've got stomach ache.' She rubbed her stomach, not just for effect. She reached forward and kissed him properly on the lips. When they separated she held his face in her hands and answered his question. ‘Yes, I'm very glad to see you, Martin.'

She climbed into the car and drove back across the bridge over the river Arno and up the road to the villa. There was no sign of paparazzi at the Chalker-Pyne villa and the unmade road, although very muddy and sticky, hadn't been washed away by the water.

As she passed Paul Taylor's house she couldn't help noticing a white Fiat, similar to the one she was driving, parked alongside the old Land Rover. She couldn't see any lights on in the house, although the principal rooms looked towards the rear. She seemed to remember that car, or one like it, being there the other day as well. Of course, she told herself as she splashed up the road, the very reason she had asked for a Fiat was so as to blend in with the millions of others all over the roads of Italy. That white car could belong to almost anybody, from Fritz aka Franco the bodybuilder to Paul's man Donatello It didn't have to be Loretta's. She shook herself physically as well as mentally. Besides, what did that matter to her? Martin was here now, if she wanted him. What she had to work out before the next day was whether she did, in fact, want him. Somehow she knew she wasn't going to get much sleep that night as she mulled over this conundrum. She snorted to herself as she pulled up at the opera singer's villa.

She drove in through the gates and up the drive, half expecting to find the house in darkness and Vicky's bedroom empty until the morning. Certainly, Katie could think of few more suitable men than Tom for Vicky to choose to kick start her sex life. The words of Vicky's original advert in
The Lady
came to mind. He certainly qualified as “of good family”. Just how acquiescent he might turn out to be was anybody's guess. As it was, she turned the corner and discovered she could, if she so wished, ask him that herself. His car was parked outside the villa and the lights were on in the kitchen. What this meant with regard to Vicky's nascent sex life would no doubt emerge in due course. She locked the car and made her way to the door.

‘And just what time do you call this?' Vicky pointed an accusing finger at her. ‘We've been sitting up worrying about you.' The fact that she was sitting on Tom's lap at the time with a silly smile on her face and her clothing in disarray rather took the sting out of the words. Katie closed the door behind her and headed for the kettle.

‘I'm busting for a cup of tea. Any takers?'

‘No thanks, but I'll give you a hand.' Vicky wriggled off Tom's lap and set about restoring some semblance of order to her clothing. Katie couldn't help noticing that her bra had disappeared in the course of the evening. She gave a little smile; Vicky's initiation into the big wide world was clearly gaining momentum. Vicky caught her eye.

‘What are you grinning about?'

‘Nothing. I'm just a naturally happy person.' She glanced at Tom who was blushing like a schoolgirl. He looked so guilty, she almost giggled. The impression of a teenager caught in the act became even stronger. ‘Tea, Tom?'

‘Not for me, thanks, Katie.'

The kettle boiled and Katie poured water onto a tea bag. Beside her, Vicky kept up a happy chatter. Clearly, things were going well. It suddenly occurred to Katie that her presence in the kitchen had interrupted proceedings. Not wishing to be a killjoy, she splashed some milk into the mug and removed the teabag. While doing so, she lowered her head until her mouth was close to Vicky's ear. ‘
Buona fortuna!
' She grinned and left them to it.

As expected, she found it very hard to get off to sleep. The intermittent pain in her stomach was partly responsible, but she knew that the problem stemmed from her brain. Martin's sudden arrival had upset the comfortable balance of her life in this lovely part of the world. Forgetting about Paul Taylor for a moment (and that was easier said than done), things were really going very well indeed. This afternoon's brief conversation in the Florence Academy of English Studies had cheered her greatly. When Vicky decided she would no longer need Katie's services, it was looking very much as though employment would not be too difficult to find. This would allow her to stay on in Tuscany where the place, the people, the weather, the food…everything appealed more and more as the days went by.

And that brought her back to the two men who had lodged themselves in her mind. She felt annoyed with herself, having been totally convinced, as recently as a few weeks ago, that involvement with any man was not what she wanted. And now here she was, lying in bed, unable to sleep for thinking of not one, but two men.

She was roused from her doze by the sound of a car door closing, followed a few seconds later by the noise of it driving off. She glanced at the clock. It was just after half past midnight. She seemed to remember coming up to bed at half past eleven. If Tom was leaving so soon, what did this signify? She found out very soon.

‘Katie.' It was a stage whisper from outside her door. ‘Are you still awake?'

‘Yes, Vicky, come in.' The door opened. Katie sat up in bed and switched on the bedside light. One look at Victoria told her all was not well. She waved her across. ‘Here, come and sit down and tell me all about it.' Vicky tottered across the room and collapsed onto the side of the bed. Her face was puffy and she had been crying. In fact, upon closer inspection, Katie saw that she was still crying.

‘Want to talk about it?' She located a packet of tissues on the bedside table and passed them across to the little figure slumped on the bed.

It took a minute or two before Vicky was in a fit state to start talking.

‘You know I said I thought this would be the night?' Katie nodded, but Vicky was staring down at the damp tissue in her hands and didn't notice. It didn't matter. She was looking more than a little self-conscious as she started her confession, but her confidence grew as the story progressed. ‘You see, I'd pretty much decided. Tom's a lovely man, I fancy him immensely and he's going home tomorrow, so there would be no need for any embarrassing follow-up if things didn't go too well.'

Katie nodded. In losing your virginity, like so much in life, careful planning can be very beneficial. It just doesn't happen that way too often. ‘But…things didn't go so well?'

‘Yes and no. Yes, we had a lovely meal together and then we went back to his house for coffee. No, because Beatrice was there. She's a lovely girl and I like her a lot, but tonight I would happily have throttled her. She just sat there and talked and talked. In the end I got him to bring me back here. I thought if I could get him up to my bedroom all would be well.'

‘So that's why I found the two of you perched in the kitchen like a couple of teenagers?'

Victoria looked across at her and managed to summon up a little smile. ‘Everything seemed to be going to plan by that stage.'

‘But then something happened after I'd left you to it?'

Vicky gave a rueful nod. ‘He told me we had to talk.' Katie listened closely. She knew what those words generally presaged. ‘He said he thought I was wonderful. He said he loved me. Yes, he really said he loved me.' Katie could hear the pleasure and the pride in her voice. ‘But then he told me he didn't want to run the risk of spoiling our friendship by rushing things.'

Katie sat up and took notice. This was something she hadn't been expecting and, clearly, neither had Vicky. At the same time, the more she thought about it, it was no bad thing; very much the opposite. She knew, and an intelligent man like Tom must have worked out, that Vicky was in a vulnerable position mentally and emotionally at present. In some ways, after her years of enforced isolation, she was a fifteen-year-old in a twenty-five-year-old's body. Taking advantage of her would have been all too easy. After all, the pseudo count had almost succeeded. This readiness to take things slowly did Tom great credit. She looked across at Vicky with a smile.

‘I don't know what you're crying about. I think that's brilliant.' Vicky raised her head and met her eye.

‘You do?'

‘Of course I do.' She did her best to lighten the atmosphere. ‘Listen, Vicky. They say that when God invented man, He gave him enough blood to work his brain or his penis, but not both at the same time. Tom is clearly one of the rare ones with enough blood, or at least moral fibre, to do both. He knew you were still very green at this whole relationship thing, so he backed off. And he did that out of respect and love for you. I admire that immensely.'

‘You do?' Vicky's vocabulary was sounding a bit limited.

‘Of course. I don't know much about men, but I do know this. Finding a man who's prepared to pass up a shag on a matter of principle is rare, truly rare.'

‘A shag?' There was just a glimmer of a smile on Vicky's lips now.

‘The act of love in its physical form. Why it should be represented in the English language by a diving seabird is one of the great unsolved mysteries of our time.' She was delighted to see Vicky's smile broaden so she decided to keep it light. She surveyed Vicky's tousled appearance.