What Happens in Tuscany... (24 page)

BOOK: What Happens in Tuscany...
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‘I was playing about a bit. I couldn't make up my mind which colour looked best. They look all right, though, don't they?' As Katie reassured her about her appearance, she stripped off her top and her shorts. They were completely soaked and she piled them on the draining board. Luckily the plastic shopping bags had served as a refuge for her purse and the precious new smart phone. She pulled out the Snoopy T-shirt and passed it over to Vicky. It was only slightly damp.

‘Here, arguably the most famous cartoon character of the 20th century. I hope it fits.' She waved away Vicky's thanks and headed upstairs to her room. She stripped off her wet underwear and stepped into the shower. When she came out, she then fiddled around for some time, trying on her new clothes and checking her appearance in the mirror. All in all, she approved of her choice and reckoned she looked pretty good, particularly in the flowery yellow dress. It really was very short, but she felt that her legs, now they had a bit of tan on them, deserved to be on display. Well pleased, she changed into the new shorts and an old T-shirt.

By the time she came down again, glad to be clean and dry once more, Tom had just arrived. He was in the process of giving Vicky a kiss that went a long way further than normal Italian etiquette demanded. Katie paused at the kitchen door and cleared her throat. ‘Excuse me, Victoria, there appears to be something on the end of your tongue.' Before Vicky could reply, she affected surprise. ‘Oh, it's you, Tom.' The couple broke up a little self-consciously. Tom came over and kissed Katie on both cheeks.

‘Hi, Katie. Get your new phone?'

Mention of phones reminded Katie to pass on her new number to them. Until a replacement SIM card arrived from the UK, she had simply bought an Italian pay as you go card. They all exchanged numbers.

‘So where are you two lovebirds off to tonight?' Katie filled the kettle and turned it on. ‘Tea anybody?' They both shook their heads and Tom explained their plans.

‘Well, the idea was to go for another picnic, but the weather is just ever so slightly against us.' The noise of the rain outside on the path, as the gutters high above overflowed, was deafening even from in here. ‘The paparazzi would seem to have finally legged it, so the new plan is to go to a little restaurant near my place and then go back home for a coffee.' Remembering his manners, he asked. ‘If you'd like to join us…'

Katie shook her head and couldn't miss the relief on both faces. ‘I've got to drop the dirty laundry down to Rosina and then it's a quiet night in, playing with my new toy.' She indicated the smart phone on the table. Tom's grinned at her.

‘Good luck with that. Did you know that there's more computing power in that little piece of kit than in the whole of the Apollo spacecraft that landed on the moon? I wish you hours of fun with it.' He turned to Vicky and glanced at his watch. ‘Shall we make a move? I'm getting hungry.'

‘You men are always hungry.'

‘Well, we are in Italy after all.'

Katie waved them out of the kitchen. ‘
Buon appetito.
' She glanced at Vicky who was looking happy and particularly excited. ‘Got an umbrella?'

‘Certainly have. See you later.' Victoria caught Tom's eye and then looked back at Katie. ‘Don't wait up.'

After the door had closed on them, Katie made herself a cup of tea and found a packet of cantuccini biscuits. She dunked a couple in her tea and nibbled them as she reflected on what she had to do next. Once she had finished her tea, she went upstairs and collected the pile of dirty laundry for Rosina. She stuffed the bundle of sheets into a big bag and went back to the kitchen. Grabbing an old umbrella from the hall, she made a run for the car. The rain was still pouring down, but not quite as hard as before. The road outside the gates was, as Paul Taylor had warned, running with water and mud. The little Fiat seemed to grip quite well all the same, so she turned left and drove slowly and carefully down to Rosina and Nando's house. She went round to their kitchen door and parked right outside. The noise of the car alerted somebody inside and she heard a cavernous woof. Seconds alter, the door was opened by Rosina. Beside her the Labrador was wagging his tail furiously.

‘Come in, come in.' She spotted the laundry. ‘You needn't have bothered, Katie. There was no rush.' She closed the door and took the bundle from her.

‘I've never heard Dante bark before. That was very impressive.' Katie found herself on the receiving end of a boisterous reception by the big dog. She looked across at Rosina as she patted him. ‘I hope he's not expecting me to take him for a walk in this weather.' Rosina laughed.

‘Feel his coat. He's bone dry. This must be the only Labrador in the world who doesn't like water. Can I offer you anything? Some coffee or maybe a glass of wine?'

Katie accepted the offer of coffee gratefully and sat and chatted to Rosina as she filled the little pot and stuck it on the gas. Soon the wonderful aroma spread around the kitchen.

‘As I came up from the station, it looked to me as if the last of the paparazzi have finally left.'

Rosina had busied herself putting cups, saucers, sugar and biscuits onto a tray so she spoke over her shoulder. ‘That's what Nando said. If they don't return when the rain stops, I think you girls can come back home. Mind you, they've tried all sorts to get in here. One pretended to have come from the water company about a leak. Nando told him we are on a well here and shooed him off. Then there was the one who pretended to be a postman, the one Nando found hiding in the woodshed, and just this afternoon there was an Englishman who claimed to be your long-lost boyfriend. At least I think that's what he was trying to say, but my English isn't very good these days. I used to speak it better back when Sir Alger…'

‘
My
long-lost boyfriend, did you say, Rosina?' Katie's ears had pricked up at this. ‘He used my name, not Victoria's? But I didn't think anybody knew about me being here.' This was serious. Maybe she would also have to start keeping a low profile after all.

‘Now you come to mention it, that is a bit strange. He definitely asked for you, not Victoria.' Rosina arrived with the tray and started unloading food and drink onto the table. ‘Mind you, he was a handsome young man, all right. Shame about his nose, though. I think he must have had an accident, or been in a figh…'

‘His nose? Did he have a broken nose?' Katie sat upright in surprise and caught her breath. ‘Was he a tall man, sort of my age, broad shoulders and short brown hair?'

Rosina nodded, an expression of concern crossing her face. ‘Oh dear, so you do know him? Is that true what he told me? Is he really your long-lost boyfriend?'

Katie nodded. ‘Sort of…um, yes, I suppose he is, really.' If Rosina noticed her hesitation she was kind enough not to remark upon it. ‘Have you any idea where he is now? Did he leave an address or anything?' Could Martin really have come all the way over here without contacting her? No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than she realised that he might well have been trying to call her for days, but her bloody phone… ‘Did he say he'd come back?'

Rosina shook her head. ‘I'm so sorry, my dear, but I sent him off with a flea in his ear, to be honest. I just assumed he was another one of those horrible men who have been peeing on the fig tree by the gate.' In spite of the circumstances, Katie smiled at the image. Beside her, Rosina wrung her hands in frustration. ‘Oh dear, oh dear.' She wrinkled her brow but couldn't come up with any clues as to Martin's whereabouts.

Katie thought desperately about the best course of action. An idea occurred to her. ‘Rosina, did he have a bag with him? I mean a suitcase or holdall or a rucksack?' Rosina shook her head. ‘So, that means he must have left them somewhere. He's probably checked into a hotel here or in Florence.' Frustratingly, she couldn't remember his number and had no way of contacting him with this new SIM card, unless… She reached for her phone and called her mother.

‘Hi, mum, it's me. Yes, I'm fine, thanks. Yes, really, I'm fine. Listen, mum, I lost my phone a few days ago. Well, that means I've lost all my contacts, all the phone numbers that were on my phone. No, it's all right, I took out insurance before I left home. Anyway, listen, I don't suppose you've got Jenny's number there, have you?'

Her mother's reply came as a massive relief.

‘Jenny? Well, yes, as a matter of fact I have. She's been phoning, trying to get in contact with you for about three days now, I do hope nothing terrible has happened. What on earth's going on?'

Very quickly, Katie gave her mother an edited version of her relationship with Martin and his supposed arrival here in Tuscany. Her mother sounded relieved.

‘Oh, is that what it's all about? Your father and I have been quite worried.'

Although Katie seriously doubted whether her father would have looked up from his research into the Battle of the Somme long enough to register the drama unfolding around him, she reassured her mother once more. She took down Jenny's number and gave her mum the new, temporary Italian number of her own phone. Then she spent a frustrating five minutes telling her all about her trip to the seaside, the paparazzi and the weather before she was finally able to get away from her. She immediately called Jenny, who answered straight away.

‘Hello.'

‘Jen, it's me, Katie.'

‘Oh, thank God. I've been searching all over for you. I phoned your mum…'

‘I know. She told me. It's about Martin, isn't it? He's come over here? Is that right?'

‘Yes, and he can't get hold of you. He's been calling and calling.'

‘Why the hell has he come over here?' The words were out before she could stop herself. Jenny picked up on them immediately.

‘You sound as if you don't want him over there.'

Katie was doing her best to marshal her thoughts. Just what
did
she think about Martin coming to see her? After a few seconds' hesitation, she had a go at explaining. ‘No, it'll be nice to see him. It's just that he's England, he's my other life, my former life. I'm in Tuscany now and things are different.'

‘How different? Are you different?' This was a tricky one to answer.

‘Of course not. I'm still me. It's just the language, the people, the villa, life here with Vicky and the others…'

‘And who are these others? Is there another Martin by any chance?'

‘No, there's not. At least, not really…'

Jenny pounced. ‘Let's see if I've got this right. You're telling me you maybe, sort of, might just have found yourself a replacement for Martin over there in Tuscany. Is that right? But because you're still hung up on the whole Dean business and the whole career thing, you're going to let this one flail around on the end of the hook like poor Martin? Is that what you're telling me?'

‘No, Jen, it's not like that.' Katie stopped, unsure just what it was like. ‘Listen, there is a man, but he's taken. But that's not it. I really think my future lies over here. If I hook up with Martin, that'll never happen. It's like I told you before; it'll be the school run and the dinner parties and all that sensible, settled family life stuff. I don't want that; at least, not yet. Anyway, why on earth has he come over here? Doesn't that seem a bit needy to you?'

‘Of course it's needy, Katie. But he can't help it. The man's potty about you.'

‘Oh, shit.'

‘Nice one, Katie. Where were you when Shakespeare was casting around for inspiration for his plays? How does it go? “But, soft, what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.” In your version Romeo's soliloquy would be followed by Juliet's voice from on high, “Oh, shit, it's Romeo.” I wouldn't try for a career as a playwright if I were you, Katie.'

‘Bugger off, Jen.' Katie laughed in spite of herself. ‘Anyway, I'd better ring him, if you can give me his number. I'll be gentle with him, I promise.'

Katie went on to give Jenny a brief account of the paparazzi interlude, her lost phone and how she and Victoria had had to go into hiding. She managed to avoid any mention of Paul Taylor. Once she had satisfied Jenny's thirst for information, she took down Martin's number and the name of the hotel where he was staying. More importantly, she discovered the hotel wasn't in Florence, but much closer to the villa, in the little town across the river, less than five minutes' drive away. She thanked her profusely and rang off. As she dialled Martin's number, she glanced across at Rosina.

‘I think I've found him, Rosina.' She saw the relief on her face.

‘Yes, hello.'

She recognised his voice straight away.

‘Oh, Martin, it's you. I'm so sorry. My phone got stolen and we've had to go into hiding and…'

‘It's all right, Katie. It's just great to hear your voice. Where are you?'

‘Where are
you
? I can come to you. I've got a car.'

‘So've I. I'm in a place called Trattoria Due Cinghiali in Signa.' His pronunciation wasn't the greatest, but she recognised the name. ‘I'm just about to order dinner, but I can cancel that and…'

‘I know it. I'll be there in five minutes.'

‘But I can…'

‘Five minutes.'

She stuffed the phone back in her pocket, gave Rosina a brief précis of what had happened and then rushed back out to the car. The dog wagged his tail but made sure he didn't venture out into the rain.

Chapter Nineteen

Their meal at the traditional old Tuscan restaurant was predictably excellent. When Katie arrived she found Martin waiting at the door, his arms outstretched. In spite of her reservations, it was very good to see him and she hugged him tightly. Then they spent over an hour just talking, before the hovering waiter compelled them to order. Martin was looking as handsome as she remembered and she enjoyed his company. He apologised for appearing so unexpectedly.

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