Under a Siena Sun (Escape to Tuscany Book 1)

by T A Williams

As they were standing at the door, chatting and saying goodnight, a car pulled up behind David’s Mercedes. To Lucy’s horror, she saw that it was Tommy. She rushed over to try to head him off before he recognised David, but she felt pretty sure she saw what might have been a glimmer of recognition on his face, although she hoped that might have been for Armando and Fioretta.

  ‘Hi, Tommy, I wasn’t expecting to see you.’

  ‘Hi, Lucy.’ He leant towards her and kissed her on the cheeks before she could retreat. ‘It’s really good to see you too. I’ve just been having dinner with my aunt and uncle and I thought I’d pop up to see if you were feeling better.’ His eyes once more flicked across to figures by her doorway. ‘That’s not your boyfriend, is it?’ He didn’t give her time to deny the accusation. ‘Sorry to interrupt you if you’ve got company, but at least that shows you’re feeling all right again.’

  ‘Back to normal, thank you. Listen, I’m sorry to sound inhospitable’ – she wasn’t sorry in the slightest – ‘but I’d better get back to my guests.’ To her relief, he nodded.

  ‘Of course. Anyway, I’m glad you’re feeling fine again. Goodnight, Lucy.’ And to her extreme annoyance, he tried to kiss her again, although this time she managed to avoid his advances.

  As his car drove off again, she went back to the others. ‘I’m really sorry about that. He’s someone I know. He works with a friend of mine. His turning up here tonight was completely unexpected.’ But of course she was in the presence of long-term Castelnuovo residents. Fioretta had already recognised Tommy.

  ‘We know Tommaso, don’t we, Armando?’

  ‘Yes, we’ve known him since he was a toddler. He’s a local boy, but you probably already know that.’

  Lucy nodded. ‘We had dinner together at his aunt and uncle’s restaurant a week ago and he told me all about the village. He knows it well.’ As she spoke, she caught a glimpse of the expression on David’s face. If asked to define it, she would have struggled. It was part friendly, part interested, but also part jealous. Could that be? For a moment their eyes met and she realised she was actually blushing. Turning away hastily, she thanked Armando once again and then shook everybody’s hand before seeing them back into David’s car. As they drove off, she kicked the dust at her feet and snorted.

  ‘Bugger!’

  What was for sure was that David was probably now convinced that she and Tommy were an item and, even worse, there was a very real possibility that Tommy, the journalist, had recognised her reclusive neighbour.

  As she stood there she felt a drop of rain on her face, then another and another. As the drops turned into a sudden torrential downpour, accompanied by a clap of thunder that rattled the window panes, she hurried back inside. This dampener on what had been a lovely evening might be welcomed by the plants in her garden, but it rather summed up the way she felt. If she had been responsible – albeit inadvertently – for revealing David’s identity to the media, she knew she would feel awful.

  Chapter 17

  She got a text from Daniela next morning that completely spoiled her day.

  Ciao Lucy. Bad news. Tommy has found out that your neighbour is tennis star David Lorenzo and we’re running a full page spread in tomorrow’s morning edition and online. There’s every chance the news will go viral. I spoke to the editor and tried my hardest to put a stop on it, but he’s adamant. So sorry. Danni.

  Lucy was sitting in the staff canteen with a cup of ginseng, taking a quick break in the middle of a long morning working alongside Dr Saeed, who was performing major leg reconstructive surgery. This complicated procedure – made necessary after the owner of the legs had crashed his million dollar supercar into the wall of a mosque – had been performed amid high security, as the patient was a prince from one of the Gulf States. It had been slightly unnerving to have to operate with two large men clad in long white robes standing impassively at the back of the room watching her every move. Still, she had told herself, compared to a black mamba they were small fry.

  As soon as she read the text message, she knew she had to act fast – not least as she was due back in theatre in less than ten minutes. She immediately tried to get hold of Tommy, to see if she could persuade him to lay off. She dialled his number several times, but it came as no surprise to her when she heard it just ring and ring. Somehow she felt sure he wasn’t going to answer. She sent him a text, asking him to think twice before revealing the information, but she had little hope of a positive response.

  The next thing she knew she had to do was to contact David and warn him that his whereabouts were about to be revealed. As she considered this, she realised that this might result in his packing his bags and leaving in a hurry for an undisclosed location and she might never see him again. Whatever her continuing uncertainty about his marital integrity and her concerns about his obvious wealth, she would be very sorry to lose him from her life. Although she could hardly say she knew him well, the little time they had spent together had already earned him a special place in her heart.

  She didn’t have a phone number for him, so she called Armando but, frustratingly, his number also just rang and rang. She thought about sending a text, asking him to ask David to call her, but as she was about to disappear back into the operating theatre any minute, there was probably no point.

  As she was still making up her mind about what else she could do, the door opened and Charles came in. Helping himself to an espresso, he came over to her table by the window, through which she noticed that the rain had finally stopped after bucketing down for twelve hours without halt.

  ‘Hi, Lucy. Mind if I sit down?’

  She nodded and waved him to a seat opposite her. ‘Help yourself. I’m due back in theatre in five minutes anyway.’

  Although relations between them never strayed beyond workplace matters nowadays, she and he had been managing to co-exist as colleagues without too much friction. As he sat down she saw that he was looking unusually troubled today. Had it been anybody else, she would have asked what the trouble was and offered to help, but seeing as it was her ex, she just carried on sipping her ginseng and waited for him to speak.

  She didn’t have long to wait. After draining his little cup of coffee in one, he set it back down again and looked across the table towards her.

  ‘Lucy, I’ve got a problem.’ He sounded unusually worried.

  ‘If it’s professional, I’m happy to help. If you’ve got some little nurse pregnant, you’re on your own.’

  ‘Nobody’s pregnant.’

  ‘Right, well, what is it, then?’

  ‘It’s this woman, you see.’

  ‘Which woman?’

  ‘A woman I’ve been seeing. Well, to be honest, we only slept together once, but the problem is I think I’ve fallen in love with her.’

  In spite of her impassive exterior, this did in fact arouse more than a spark of interest in Lucy. Doing her best to sound disinterested, or at least neutral, she prompted him. ‘So why’s that a problem?’

  ‘Because she doesn’t feel the same way about me.’

  ‘And why are you telling me this?’

  ‘I thought you could help me, advise me…’

  ‘Why on earth would I want to help you after the way you behaved?’ She could hear her voice rising in tone and volume and she struggled to contain herself. The irony that her former lover, the man who had broken her heart, now found himself suffering in the same way as she had done, was not lost on her. Karma, she told herself, was definitely a thing. Very conscious she only had a few minutes before she had to return to the operating theatre, she swilled the last of her ginseng around the cup and swallowed before continuing in a calmer tone. ‘Seriously, what do you expect me to do? Get on with it. I have to go.’

  ‘Maybe give me some advice. It’s complicated, you see.’

  ‘Complicated?’ She gave a hiss of frustration and then looked up as a glimmer of comprehension dawned. ‘Don’t tell me – she’s married, am I right?’ It didn’t need the s
light nod of his head for her to realise her guess had been correct. ‘So you’ve fallen in love with a married woman and she doesn’t love you back – at least, not enough to leave her husband for you? Is that the situation?’

  ‘Not exactly married, but that’s about the size of it, but it’s more complicated than that…’ His voice tailed off helplessly.

  ‘More complicated, how?’

  ‘I can’t say.’

  He hung his head and looked miserable but she was rapidly losing patience – and running out of time. ‘Well, if you won’t go into more detail, the only help I can offer is to advise you to sit down and talk it through with this woman, whoever she is.’ She glanced at her watch once more and stood up. ‘I’m due back in theatre right now. Just talk to her, okay?’

  * * *

  It was lunchtime before she was able to do anything more about Daniela’s news and she had been fretting about it all morning. As soon as she came out of theatre, she went out into the gardens, now once again bathed in sunshine, but she barely registered the delightful display of roses in the big bed around the fountain. The important thing was that nobody else had chosen to come out into the burning midday sun, so nobody was here to overhear her conversation. The temperature was rising steadily as the overnight rain disappeared like magic into the parched ground, but, ignoring any thoughts of mad dogs and Englishmen, she called Armando and was greatly relieved to hear him answer the phone this time. She asked him if he could get David to ring her about a very urgent matter and the call came through less than a minute later.

  ‘Lucy, hi. It’s David. Is something up?’

  ‘Hi, David. Yes, I’m afraid we’ve got a problem, a big problem, and it’s my fault.’ She went on to tell him about Tommy and his job as a journalist. ‘It’s my fault he came round last night and spotted you. I was out on Sunday and he saw me, but I didn’t want to talk to him so I told him I wasn’t feeling well. I should have guessed he might come to check up on me, but it never occurred to me, I’m afraid. I’m so, so sorry.’

  There was silence at the other end of the line for a few moments. ‘If he’s your boyfriend, couldn’t you maybe appeal to him to stay quiet?’

  ‘He’s not my boyfriend.’ Lucy realised that this had come out a bit too loud and a bit too dogmatic, so she lowered her voice once more and explained. ‘He’s a friend of a friend and I only agreed to have dinner with him as his aunt and uncle own the restaurant and he said he could tell me all about the village. One thing’s for sure – after this, he’s definitely no longer even a casual friend. I’ve tried phoning him, but he’s not picking up. I’ve left him a series of messages, but I fear in my bones that he isn’t going to change his mind. As far as he’s concerned, this is a major scoop and it’ll be good for his career.’

  ‘Right… I see…’ She heard a long escape of breath. ‘Listen, Lucy, don’t beat yourself up. It wasn’t your fault. It was bound to happen sooner or later. My lawyer knows who I am and where I live, as do the guys at the bank, lots of people at the clinic, and any number of others. It’s been a long time coming but sooner or later it had to be revealed. I’ve been living on borrowed time.’ She heard him take a deep breath. ‘It was inevitable. I’ve been very lucky up till now, but it’s time for me to face the music.’

  ‘So you aren’t going to run off somewhere else?’

  ‘Absolutely not.’ She couldn’t repress a sensation of relief that he would be staying around. ‘There are too many things, too many people, keeping me here.’ She found herself desperately curious to know if she might be one of these people, but he hadn’t finished. ‘No, bring it on. Listen, I was going to call you to say thank you for last night. I had a really good evening and it reminded me what I’ve been missing in my self-imposed isolation. I was wondering, do you have any free time this week or at the weekend?’

  ‘I’m actually off work tomorrow, before starting nights on Saturday.’

  ‘Well, look, how about this as an idea? Would you feel like coming to Florence with me some time? I thought we could check out the memorial to John Hawkwood. It’s something I’ve been dying to do for ages, but I’ve been so scared of being recognised. Now the cat’s going to be out of the bag, so what the hell? What do you say?’

  Lucy stood there for a few moments, lost in thought. It was going to be pretty well impossible for him to keep his identity a secret in the midst of the crowds of tourists who would be packed into the centre of Florence. School holidays had started all over Europe and further afield, and she had no doubt there would be thousands upon thousands of people there. The second thing going through her head was whether she wanted to spend a day in the company of somebody who was reputed to have cheated on his wife.

  It didn’t take her long to make a decision. When all was said and done, this was an innocent enough invitation and she couldn’t deny a large part of her wanted to spend more time with this man. It wasn’t as if he was inviting her to go off on a dirty weekend with him, or even go out for dinner. If she could say yes to dinner with a proven womaniser like Tommy, then there was no reason to reject David’s offer, and there was always that thing about being innocent until proved guilty. And, apart from anything else, she really wanted to check out Hawkwood’s memorial fresco as well.

  ‘That sounds great. I’d love to go to Florence. I’m free tomorrow if that suits you.’

  ‘Tomorrow’s good for me. Okay if I pick you up fairly early? That way we might miss the worst of the crowds if we aim to hit the Duomo as it opens at ten. What time works for you?’

  ‘As early as you like. I’m used to being at work by seven thirty so I’m not afraid of an early start.’

  ‘We don’t need to leave quite that early. Shall we say eight thirty?’

  Chapter 18

  She was ready for him well before eight thirty next morning, feeling surprisingly nervous as she heard his car pull up outside. To her horror, this turned out to be the very smart, but incredibly conspicuous, bright red Ferrari she had seen on Google Earth and her heart sank. She rolled her eyes and wondered what it was about rich men and fast cars. Not that she cared to know the answer.

  She knew she was going to feel really uncomfortable being seen in such an obvious status symbol, whose worth was probably more than all the houses and all the belongings of the people around Mabenta put together. David was free to spend his money any way he wanted, but this gleaming car was making it impossible to avoid comparisons with some of the more unsavoury patients at the clinic. Somehow it felt improper, if not just plain wrong. Nevertheless, she gritted her teeth and mustered a smile and was immediately presented with another, more practical, problem.

  As she wasn’t working, she had chosen not to tie her hair back today and had let it hang around her shoulders, feeling pretty confident it looked good, not least as the sun had done a great job of bleaching it lighter, turning it from its usual mousy colour to blonde. The roof of the car was down so she had no doubt she would look like a haystack by the time they got to Siena, let alone Florence, after being buffeted by the wind at high speed. She gave David an apologetic wave and ducked back into the house to take remedial action.

  She hunted around for a hair tie but couldn’t find a single one. In desperation she located her only silk scarf and tied it around her head, although she felt sure it would make her look like her grandmother. A quick glance in the mirror confirmed her fears, but it was too late to change now. She locked the house and as she came round to the car door, another problem presented itself. She was wearing her new summer frock. The car was very close to the ground and, somehow, she had the feeling David was going to see a lot of her as she climbed in. In fact, it wasn’t so much going to be a case of climbing in as falling in. She opened the door and put one foot tentatively inside. To her relief, he came to her rescue.

  ‘Unless you have a crane, the best way to get into this thing is backwards. My wife had a system so trust me – ass first.’

  She took his advice and turned her
back on him, grabbed the door pillars and lowered herself into the seat, finally swivelling round, knees together, and tugging the hem of her dress down, relieved it hadn’t ridden up any more than it had. She glanced across at him and there was an embarrassing moment when she wondered if she should kiss him on the cheeks or shake hands or do nothing, before he resolved things by pressing a button and starting the engine. There was a high-pitched roar and he set off, fortunately at a reasonable pace. The prancing horse on the steering wheel made it clear this was a car designed for raw speed and she hoped he wouldn’t turn out to be a mad driver.

  As he manoeuvred the surprisingly wide vehicle through the narrow streets of the village, she glimpsed Donatello, the shopkeeper, sweeping the pavement outside his shop, and she almost died of shame. The bright red Ferrari immediately drew his attention and he must have recognised her as he waved and, hesitantly, she waved back. She turned towards David.

  ‘I’m afraid your anonymity isn’t going to last long – especially in a red Ferrari.’

  He shot her a quick smile. ‘I’m sure you’re right, but I reckon it’s the only way. Would you believe this car hasn’t been out of the garage for over two years? In fact I wondered if it would start this morning. But I thought, what the hell? Just like tearing off a Band-Aid, I reckon it’s best to just go for it.’

  ‘So you’re happy to emerge from hiding, or should I say burst out of hiding in this beast?’

  He nodded. ‘It’s time. I’ve been closeted away for too long. I need to get out. In a funny way, I’m almost grateful to your friend for giving me the kick I needed.’

  ‘My ex-friend. And so you’re choosing the nuclear option? A bright red Ferrari with the roof down will definitely draw a few eyes.’

  ‘And don’t forget the beautiful blonde in the passenger seat. That should definitely help in making sure I get noticed.’

  Doing her best not to blush, she corrected him and saw him smile. ‘The little old lady in the headscarf, you mean. I’m not sure how alluring I look.’