What Happens in the Alps... (19 page)

BOOK: What Happens in the Alps...
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‘No, Matt, it's not fair for you be involved. This is my problem, not yours.'

He gave her a grin. ‘Don't be silly. I wouldn't miss it for anything, especially if I see that guy who was handing out the leaflets again. He cast a few nasty aspersions about my mother as he was leaving, and I'd rather like a word with him about that.' Just for a moment the cheery, amiable expression left Matt's face, to be replaced by something altogether tougher. Then he reverted to type once more and smiled. ‘Anyway, let's see what my friend comes up with and then we can decide.'

‘Well, you just be careful. I don't want you getting into any more fights.'

‘Me, fights?' He gave her a look of surprised innocence that would have fooled most people, but Annie knew him too well. She shook an admonitory finger at him as he continued. ‘By the way, are you still on for dinner tonight? My stuff's all supposed to be arriving around lunchtime from Florence, so I'll be moving into the new apartment this afternoon. You know where it is, don't you? It's just up the road; the old 1920s building with the art deco-style façade. My flat's on the top floor, number 5A. Come over when you've finished and we can slip down for a pizza together.'

He disappeared into his office and Annie went through to hers. She had a number of emails, among them the confirmation that the furniture would all be delivered the next day and, even more interestingly, an email from an officer at the local fire station asking for a detailed estimate of costs for an English-language course for a number of his men and women. Annie chuckled to herself as she composed a reply.

Before going across to see Matt that evening, Annie went out and bought a bottle of good Prosecco. His house was unmistakable. The entrance hall of this art deco wonder was magnificent, like stepping into a bygone age of intricate designs, parallel lines etched into the walls and lights like golden shells. Annie stood on the swirling marble floor and stared, awestruck by the beauty of the place. His flat was on the fifth floor, but fortunately there was a lift. It wasn't the biggest of lifts and it wasn't the most modern. In fact, it looked as if it had been installed back in the 1920s at the time the house was built. It was suspended inside a series of girders running up the middle of the building, with the staircase winding around it. The outer door was a steel concertina that had to be slid open with one hand while pushing the narrow inner double doors open with the other. Once inside, the outer door had to be slid home first, then the inner ones closed, before the lift would work.

Annie stepped inside with some trepidation that wasn't alleviated when she pressed the button for the fifth floor and the lift lurched into life with a judder. It rattled and swayed on the way up, accompanied by some ominous creaks from the steel cable, until it stopped with a jolt at the top, swaying slightly from side to side. She was very conscious of the considerable drop beneath her feet as she pulled open first the inner, then the outer, doors, and made her escape, remembering to close the double doors behind her.

As she walked along to the door to 5A she glanced over the banister at the long drop down to the lobby below and decided, very definitely, that she would use the stairs in future. No way was she going back in that contraption. She knocked on the door and a few seconds later Matt appeared. His eyes dropped to the bottle in her hand. ‘I knew you'd go and do something like this. There was no need.'

‘There was every need. I've just come up in the lift. Only alcohol can save me now.'

‘I thought you were looking a bit pale.' He grinned and beckoned her in. ‘What do you think?' He stepped back so she could get a good look at the place.

Annie stood and gaped. It was a time capsule. The walls were covered in amazing patterned wallpaper, now predominantly brown and yellow, but no doubt a lot brighter ninety years earlier. The curtains had probably started life as a match, but a combination of wear and sunlight had bleached them almost transparent, not dissimilar to one of Paolina's more outrageous outfits. The floorboards were a rich dark chocolate brown, maybe originally mahogany or oak, and the doors were magnificent works of art, composed of glass and metal in sweeping geometric patterns, punctuated by vertical lines. The light hanging in the middle of the living room was an intricate, coloured-glass, mushroom cap. It was totally stunning and, for a moment, Annie wished her traditional wooden chalet with its ultra-modern interior was more like this. What a place.

‘Matt, I'm in love. It's absolutely magnificent. Lucky, lucky you.'

He was still smiling. ‘It does have its down sides. The shower appears to only work when it feels like it, and if you like a powerful shower you would be disappointed. The water pressure up here's weak, to say the least. The kitchen's the original wood and Formica one from the twenties and, although I've used everything short of dynamite on some of the worst of the accumulated dirt, it just won't shift it. Remarkably, the toilet's a genuine British Thomas Crapper original, complete with chain and long drop. When you flush it, it sounds like Niagara Falls. Still, say what you like, this place has got character by the bucket load and I love it.' He took the bottle from her hands. ‘Well, thanks, I'll go and get some glasses.'

While Matt opened the wine, Annie gazed out of the window. In front of them was an ugly 1960s building, but if she looked left or right, she could see the lights of the little villages up the winding mountain roads. By craning her neck, she caught sight of the lights of Montalto. Quite probably this building would be visible from Alex's apartment on the top floor of the new hotel, maybe even from her little chalet.

‘Here, cheers.' Matt handed her a glass of Prosecco and clinked his glass against hers. ‘Here's looking at you, kid.' He did a pretty good impression of Bogart.

‘
Casablanca
. Now that's a great movie.'

‘I've got it on DVD somewhere in one of these boxes. I tell you what; when I dig it out we'll have a black-and-white movie session here. All right?'

‘Sounds good to me.' Annie took a mouthful of wine and sat down on the sofa. ‘How did it go with your girlfriend from the council?'

‘Nothing new in terms of dirt on Gruglio, but she did give me the names of the local education bosses, and this.' He reached across to a pile of papers on top of a cardboard box. ‘This is a copy of an internal memo advising all branches of the local administration, including the police, to be on the lookout for clandestine workers, or
estracommunitari
, and warning of the consequences to employers if they're discovered. She tells me they haven't got the manpower or the time to enforce it and it's just another piece of harmless junk mail as far as they're concerned, but Gruglio doesn't have to know that.' He gave Annie a big smile. ‘I'm planning on taking a little trip across to the ABC School tomorrow.'

Annie held up her glass. ‘Just you be careful. I haven't got so many knights in shining armour that I can afford to lose one.'

He clinked his glass against hers and took a big mouthful. ‘No worries. And this wine's excellent, thank you. Now, where are you taking me for dinner? The
Piazza
, maybe?'

Annie could see he was joking. She knew him well enough to know that he hated flashy places like that even more than she did. She had already thought about a suitable venue for the evening, but she decided to keep it a secret for now. ‘Not the
Piazza
. Somewhere just a tad less ostentatious. Trust me and you'll find out soon enough.'

‘I put myself in your hands.' He reached for the bottle to top up their glasses.

Just for a moment, a strange thing happened and Annie found herself wondering what it would be like to have Matt in her hands or, indeed, for her to be in his. She hadn't thought of him in this way for many years now, not since she had first set eyes on this tall, handsome man that Steve had brought home with him. Since then, he had just become good old Matt, Steve's best mate and inveterate womaniser. She took a good look at him as he was occupied with the wine bottle. Karen and Paolina weren't wrong; he really was gorgeous, not just on the outside. He really couldn't be any kinder to her and she relished his support. For a moment she found herself wondering if the relationship between the two of them was changing. Maybe Matt was more than just Steve's best friend. Maybe he meant more to her than she had been willing to admit to herself. Sensing himself under observation, he looked up and caught her eye.

‘So, how's it going with Ferrari-man?'

Mention of Alex turned Annie's thoughts to the other tall, handsome man in her life. She still couldn't help wondering who might be going to the Caribbean with him, but she knew she was very sorry that she wouldn't see him again for over two weeks. She picked her glass up again and sipped it. ‘I won't see him for a while. He's off to the Caribbean for a two-week Christmas break.'

‘Well, you're going home, too, aren't you?'

‘Yes, although I'm sure there are things I should be doing here, really.' She sat upright. ‘I come back to Italy only two weeks before the school opens. That's not long.'

He gave her a smile. ‘It'll be fine, Annie. Trust me, it'll be fine.'

Just after eight they walked down the stairs and out into the night. The sky was clear and the cold was intense. She was wearing her fur-lined boots with sensible soles, but she caught hold of his arm for support on the icy patches anyway. She led him along the echoing streets, through the old Roman archway, to a place she had discovered a few weeks back on Janet's recommendation. To get to it they had to go down a narrow side street and she could sense his curiosity growing. Finally, they turned a corner and there it was. Annie glanced across at his face in the orange glow of a lone street light and grinned. ‘Ta-da! Bet you weren't expecting this.'

‘Well, I'll be buggered… I didn't know there was one of these here.'

Together they went across the road and he stopped to admire the sign hanging above the door. John Bull, complete with Union Jack waistcoat, stood proudly alongside a red-berried holly bush. Across the top the words
The Bull and Bush
had been painted in gold lettering. He turned to Annie with a broad smile. ‘How well you know me. I really fancy a pint, you know.'

‘They've got all sorts, including Prosecco, and the food's really good.' She led him in and they found themselves in a very convincing replica of an English pub, complete with dartboard, beer mats, and beer engines on the counter. The place was pretty full and there was a real buzz in there. Matt turned to her and put his mouth close to her ear so as to be heard.

‘This could be a big mistake. I might never get any work done now I know this place is here.'

They had a very pleasant evening, settled at a table in a relatively quiet corner. He drank beer while she had some more Prosecco. They ordered steak and kidney pie and chips and he was amazed to find the food totally authentic. The barman, who came from Burnley, told him they had them shipped over from the UK specially.

As they ate, they chatted, and Annie found out more about Matt's hopes for his business. His contacts with the Italian film industry were extending and he had been asked to translate all manner of promotional material for a number of new films. Things were looking good for MB Translations
.
She told him more about the lovely chalet she was going to rent up on the road to Montalto and he sounded very impressed.

‘So when do you plan on moving in?'

Annie set down her fork and pushed her plate way from her. ‘Enough. I'm full. As for the house, I'd really like to move in as soon as possible. I'm getting fed up with being squashed into one crowded room at the school.'

He had already finished his pie and he reached for his beer. ‘Anyway, you've got Christmas to come first. When are you off?'

‘Sunday.' She reflected once more just how close that was. ‘And there's so much to do before then. The furniture comes tomorrow and that's all got to be set up. Then there's still stuff for the plumber and the decorator…'

‘Don't worry about it. Paolina and I will sort it all out. I'm only going away for a few days over Christmas so I'll be here to keep an eye on things. You go home and have a really good time with the family.'

‘So, who're you spending Christmas with? Your girlfriend from the TV or have you moved on?'

He looked across and caught her eye. ‘My mum and dad in Rome. As for girlfriends, I haven't got one of those.'

Annie was surprised. ‘What about the friend down the valley you stayed with last week? And surely you must have a girlfriend in Florence as well.'

He shook his head. ‘Nope, footloose and fancy free, that's me. And the friend down the valley's a dentist called Carlo who I've known since I was a kid. His baby was being baptised and they asked me to be godfather.'

‘Oh, I see. So, since when have you been on your own, Matt?' She found that very hard to believe. His answer was even more puzzling.

‘Since I saw you tumble out of the cable car at Chamoux.'

She blushed. ‘You saw that, did you?'

He grinned at her. ‘It wouldn't be you without an occasional calamity.'

‘You really do know me well, don't you?'

‘We've known each other a long time, Annie; a very long time.'

Chapter 14

Turin airport on the Sunday before Christmas was chaotic. Coaches queued up outside to take holidaymakers up to the ski resorts, and everywhere she looked there were skis and boot bags.
Departures
was full of Italians heading off for Christmas and it took almost an hour before Annie was able to check in her bag. By the time she got through the security checks and passport control, her flight was already being called. She hurried along the corridor towards Gate 12 and, as she did so, got a shock. There, on the other side of a glass partition, was a long queue of passengers at another gate, waiting to board an Alitalia flight. Near the front of the queue was the unmistakable figure of Alex. Annie stopped dead and went over to the glass, waving and trying to attract his attention.

BOOK: What Happens in the Alps...
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