What Happens in Tuscany... (14 page)

‘Come on and meet some of my friends.' The people over here were noticeably younger than the other groups. A couple of male faces turned towards them as they wandered up. Marco happily made the introductions.

‘Here we are, these are the beautiful ladies from the villa. Franco, Giuseppe, come and say hello.' Giuseppe was a small man, probably a bit younger than Marco, wearing a lovely pink silk shirt. He was probably in his mid or late thirties, with John Lennon glasses and a shaved head. There was a tattoo on his neck that looked like Chinese characters. Beside him, Franco was a lot younger and a very different animal. He was wearing a tank top that seemed about to split any second under the strain of containing his array of beautifully-honed muscles that wouldn't have looked out of place in a Schwarzenegger movie.

‘Well, hello, girls.' The smaller man reached out and took the collar of Victoria's blouse in his fingers. She stood rooted to the spot, uncertain what was happening. Katie, on the other hand, had a good idea of what was about to happen. She was not wrong. ‘My, my, what a beautiful blouse.' There was awe in his voice as he turned to the muscleman beside him. ‘There's something so terribly, terribly sensual about the feel of real silk. Here, Franco, feel this.'

Franco extended a powerful forearm and grasped the other side of Vicky's collar. To her evident relief, he took hold of the cloth very gently. Katie found herself grinning as the memory of the dainty way the dog had taken the banana that morning came to mind.

‘Exquisite.' He was speaking in English, his voice unexpectedly soft for such a huge hulk of a man. ‘You'll have to keep an eye on Giuseppe. If you suddenly feel cold, it'll be because he's stripped it off you. He loves silk.' Katie thought she recognised the accent, vestigial as it was.

‘Australian?' He gave a melodramatic sigh and shook his head.

‘No I'm not bloody Australian. They all say that. Try again.'

‘Then it's got to be South African.' Katie hoped she'd got it right this time. She was rewarded by a kiss on the cheek from the big man.

‘Bingo. That's my girl.'

‘Franco's not a very South African name, is it?' Victoria had got over her surprise by this stage. He gave her a little smile.

‘It started life as Franz, but this lot didn't like the sound of it, so it's morphed into Franco.'

Giuseppe stuck to Italian. ‘So, Katie, Victoria, tell us how you are finding life on our special piece of hillside.' Katie replied for both of them.

‘It's amazing. The views are to die for, the weather's unbelievable and the food is phenomenal.' She turned to Victoria, keen to involve her in the conversation. ‘What about you, Vicky? Anything I've missed out?'

‘You haven't mentioned the good company.' She was looking at Marco with interest. Suddenly Katie realised that the penny hadn't dropped yet with Victoria. Even the silk shirt conversation hadn't done it. Katie reflected that this was Vicky's first experience of gay men, so it wasn't really surprising she hadn't got it yet. She resolved to explain as soon as she got a chance. Marco glanced back towards the house.

‘I must get back to the kitchen. The grill should be ready by now. Anyway, while you're waiting, there's the best ham in Italy on the table over there.' There were groans of protest from some of the people around. Marco was unrepentant. ‘Cynthia was her name and she only had the very best of everything. A short life, but a happy one.'

‘Oh, Marco, that's gross. Fancy eating your household pet.' Franco was disgusted. Giuseppe, on the other hand, saw a parallel.

‘Franco, would you describe yourself as a household pet? It wouldn't stop me eating you.'

Katie caught Vicky's eye and glimpsed a first hint of realisation. She gave her a wink. Marco led the girls across to the food table and excused himself, heading back towards the kitchen. As they were briefly alone, Katie was on the point of telling Vicky about Marco and his friends when she was interrupted by the arrival of a familiar face.

‘Good evening, Katie. I wondered if I would see you here. It is, of course, the social event of the year.' He was smiling, but it was a nervous smile.

‘Good evening.' Katie turned to Victoria. ‘Vicky, this is Paul Taylor. He and I met briefly yesterday.'

Paul Taylor shook Katie's hand and then turned his attention to Victoria. He held out his hand, studying her closely. He looked very serious and he seemed mesmerised by her face. She had a sudden thought that maybe she was witnessing love at first sight, the coup de foudre beloved of romance novelists. For her part, Victoria seemed less interested and Katie wondered if she was trying to work out if he, too, might be gay. Katie had no doubts on that score. He certainly wasn't gay and she would be prepared to bet heavily on that.

‘Victoria. It's very good to meet you.'

‘And you, too, Paul.' They shook hands and then there was silence. He was still staring at her and appeared lost for words. Katie dived in to save the situation.

‘Have you known Marco for long, Paul?'

He turned back towards her, his face still wearing an expression of disbelief. Katie couldn't, for the life of her, work out what was going on. Then he did his best to pull himself together. ‘I've known Marco since I was a little boy. He used to get beaten up at school on a regular basis. It's better than it was, but Italy's still not an easy place to be gay. I used to get beaten up because I was foreign, so we've been friends ever since then.'

‘Do they all live together? Work together, maybe?' Victoria was fascinated by her first experience of gay men.

‘I'm not sure if Marco and Giuseppe are still seeing each other.' Paul Taylor was still looking bothered by something, but he did his best to give a full answer. ‘They used to be an item, but now Mr Muscle has come along so I'm not sure. Marco, you maybe know, runs a ceramics factory. Giuseppe's a journalist and I'm not sure Franco does anything apart from work out in the gym. Now, do please try Marco's
crostini
and you have to give Cynthia a go. Here…' He speared a slice of ham on a fork and held it out to Katie. She didn't hesitate. It was delicious. As she chewed the ham, she saw him offer the plate to Victoria. He didn't attempt to offer her a piece on the fork. She took a slice and smiled at him. He turned away and grabbed the arm of a woman standing behind them.

‘Loretta, can I present my friends Katie and Victoria to you?' He was speaking English. ‘They are staying in the Englishman's villa.' He caught Katie's eye. ‘That's right, that's what they call it round here. I'd better go and see how Marco's getting on.' He headed for the house. Somehow, Katie got the feeling he was glad to get away.

Loretta was probably a few years older than Katie, with a dark copper tan and a mane of shining black hair. Her dress was light and revealing, her figure beneath it a riot of curves. There was heavy gold round her neck and hanging from her ears. There were, however, dark rings under her eyes and she looked weary.

‘Good evening.' Her English was very fluent, almost accentless. ‘I hope you're enjoying your time in Tuscany. How is it you know Paul and Marco?'

Katie explained about her chance meetings with Paul the previous morning, and Marco earlier that day. ‘Marco was kind enough to invite us here to meet the neighbours. Are you a neighbour?'

‘Not very close. I live in Florence. Your closest neighbour is the count.'

Both girls looked up. ‘A real count?'

Loretta smiled. ‘Aristocrats are two a penny round here. Wait a moment and I'll go and find him. I'm sure he'll be delighted to meet you.' She turned and immediately located him. She called out and a tall man responded to her call. She beckoned him over and presented him to them.

‘Ladies, this is Count Filippo di Monteriggioni. Filippo, these are your new neighbours. I'm very sorry, I've forgotten your names.'

Katie held out her hand to him. ‘I'm Katie and this is Victoria Chalker-Pyne.' She saw him register the names. He took first her hand, then Victoria's, raised them to his lips and kissed them formally, revealing a flashy gold watch on his wrist as he did so. He was a very handsome man wearing an immaculate white shirt, striped tie and blazer, in spite of the heat of the evening. His flowing dark hair was fashionably long and Katie was ungracious enough to wonder if the temples had been artificially coloured. He was probably a good bit older than either of them, but still very good-looking. And he knew it. A glance at his left hand revealed no wedding ring, but a massive signet ring, naturally gold.

‘My dear ladies, I am delighted to make your acquaintance.' He addressed them in fluent, but heavily-accented English. He treated them both to a charming smile. Katie felt it wash over her and knew it was false. There was something about him she didn't like, not just the gold tooth that reflected in the light of the setting sun. For her part, Victoria looked charmed.

‘It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Count Filippo. So which house is yours?'

Katie noted her choice of vocabulary and mentally added it to her list of Victorianisms to be corrected next time they were alone. Nobody made anybody's acquaintance any more. Unaware of the anachronism, the count inclined his head into a formal bow.

‘
Enchanté.
My house is the one with the swimming pool just after the entrance to your villa. You may have noticed a red Ferrari parked outside.' Katie's stomach turned over. What an arse! He turned towards her and she managed to produce a smile as he carried on. ‘I have always chosen Italian cars. It's a style thing, you know.' Katie nodded sweetly, doing her best not to throw up.

‘Have you lived here long?' Victoria still sounded interested.

‘Only a few weeks. This is my first summer here.' He looked around arrogantly. ‘Normally I tend to spend the summer months at a little place I have on the island of Elba, but there are so many Germans there these days, it's hard to meet an Italian.' He waved his hands around expansively. ‘Here I am among fellow-countrymen.' He caught Loretta's eye and added in Italian. ‘And delightful fellow-countrywomen of course.' She replied in English that was a lot better than his.

‘You are too kind, Filippo.' Somehow, Katie could tell that Loretta's opinion of the count was little better than hers.

‘Katie, come in here a moment, will you? I've got something to show you.' It was Marco, calling from the kitchen door. Katie was only too happy to slip away from the slimy count and join him. The kitchen was a huge room with hefty oak beams supporting the ceiling. The fireplace was in proportion and a log fire had burnt down to a mass of glowing embers. A metal grill on legs stood among the coals, ready for food to be cooked on it. A huge pile of meat stood on the table.

‘I thought you looked like you needed a lifeline. Our friend the count is a bit of an acquired taste.' Katie gave him a warm smile and walked across to him.

‘Thanks very much. For some reason, he's just not my kind of man.'

‘So what is your kind of man? Come on, you can tell me. I promise I won't tell a soul.' Marco gave her a broad grin. She chose a diplomatic answer.

‘Well, a man that can cook would have to rank pretty high on my scale. So what's going onto the barbecue?'

‘You're in Tuscany, so it's got to be meat. This isn't a good place to be a vegetarian. I've got sausages, ribs, steaks, various bits of my beloved Cynthia. Whatever takes your fancy.'

‘Do you want a hand?'

‘I never refuse an offer of help.'

Katie glanced around. ‘I thought Paul said he was coming in to help.' Marco hesitated a fraction before answering.

‘He's had to run off. Something came up.'

‘Surely not work at this time on a Saturday night?'

Marco shrugged his shoulders. ‘Could be. He never stops working. I worry about him sometimes. There's so much more to life than work, but with him it's an obsession.'

Katie wondered whether Paul Taylor's sudden departure had anything to do with the strange expression she had seen on his face, but she had no time to dwell upon it. There was work to be done. Together, she and Marco set about cooking the food. Soon the kitchen was filled with the smell of roasting meat and hungry faces started to appear at the door. As each batch was done, Marco loaded it onto a plate and carried it out to the table. Each time he returned with a jug of wine to replenish their glasses. It was hot work and they both drank quite a lot of wine. When they finally finished the last of the meat, he caught her by the waist and turned her towards him. She smiled up at him, her hand on his shoulder. He smiled back.

‘I promise I didn't just invite you here so you could help in the kitchen. Thank you so much.' He leant forward and kissed her cheeks before turning to the plate of meat, still steaming from the grill. ‘Here, take what you want for yourself and a few bits for me and I'll go and give the rest to the starving masses outside.' She pulled some meat and some sausages onto a plate and passed him the remainder.

She walked over to the sink and washed her hands, pushing her hair out of her eyes once she had dried her hands. Her mind returned to Paul Taylor and where he had gone or, more precisely, why he had gone. There was something about him that fascinated her. She had felt if from the first moment she had seen him. From what Rosina and Marco had said, she knew that he was a workaholic, but what she now needed to do was to find out more about him. She had, after all, only learnt his name the previous day. She divided the meat onto two plates, the lion's share going onto Marco's. She then picked them up and made her way out into the loggia.

‘Here she is, the chef!' Marco's shout caught the attention of the guests and Katie found herself on the receiving end of a burst of applause. She smiled modestly and gave credit where it was due.