Under a Siena Sun (Escape to Tuscany Book 1)

by T A Williams

  Once again, it was on the tip of her tongue to press him for more information, however, she knew she would be stepping into sensitive territory. She would be fooling herself if she tried to pretend she wasn’t fascinated to find out the real reason for the break-up, but today wasn’t the day to ask. Today had been fun and interesting, if excruciatingly uncomfortable at times, and this had been an excellent, if ostentatious, place to have lunch. There was no point in spoiling it with a cross-examination, particularly as ordeal by media was waiting for him back home. What she did find herself wondering was if the newspaper article alleging his infidelity as the reason for the collapse of the marriage was false, then what had been the real reason? Had it even been his fault? Had it maybe been his wife’s fault in spite of the allegations in the paper? Of course, she had to accept the possibility that he wasn’t telling her the truth, in spite of her gut feeling. After all, she had trusted Charles at one time…

  They drove back through the hills, passing by San Gimignano but not stopping. From what she could see of the jam-packed car and coach park alongside the quaint walled hilltop town with its famous towers, it would probably have been even more crowded than Florence in there. They got back to Castelnuovo around four o’clock and he dropped her by her front door, chivalrously getting out to haul her to her feet once again. She gave him a smile and reached up on tiptoe to kiss him on the cheeks, giving his biceps another little squeeze as she did so.

  ‘Thank you for a lovely day, David. I really enjoyed myself, and the lunch was super. I just wish I could help you in some way. Listen, you’ve got my number now. Just call me if there’s anything, anything at all, I can do to help. Good luck when you get up to the gates.’

  He smiled back at her. ‘You already have helped me, Lucy. You may not realise it, but I owe you a lot.’

  ‘Like for allowing some casual man friend of mine to recognise you and reveal your whereabouts to the entire world? With friends like me, who needs enemies?’

  He was still smiling. ‘You’ll never be an enemy, Lucy. Ciao.’

  He slipped back into the driving seat and set off up the hill. As he did so, she saw him deliberately remove his baseball cap and sunglasses, ready to face the cameras. She crossed her fingers for him.

  She let herself into the house and put the kettle on. As it came to the boil, she opened the back door to check that her lovely rambling rose hadn’t dried up in its pot and found that Armando had already been round and had constructed a fine cat’s cradle of wires around the doorway for the rose to climb. She went out to the little old brick shed at the bottom of the garden and located a spade, determined to dig a hole and plant the rose in the ground that evening once the full heat of the sun had diminished.

  As she came back out with the spade in her hand, she was startled to hear a dog bark right beside her. She glanced around and saw a black nose and two paws just peeking over the stone wall between her and next door. She went across to say hello and, as she did so, she registered that her neighbour’s shutters were now open. Evidently the proprietor, the Florentine who worked at the university, was now in residence.

  ‘Ciao, dog. So what’s your name, you handsome beast?’

  She held out her hand for the dog to sniff and received a friendly lick in return. It was yet another black Labrador. Somehow she wasn’t so surprised. Evidently the offspring of Roberto’s Labs had populated most of the homes in this area.

  ‘His name’s Barolo, but he answers to Bari – if I’m holding food. Good afternoon.’

  Lucy looked up from the dog. The dog’s master was standing at his back door. He was a middle-aged man with glasses, and he was wearing a baggy pair of sand-coloured shorts and a short-sleeved check shirt. From the look of his pale arms and legs, he had probably spent most of the past few months indoors working, rather than out in the sunshine. His accent was unmistakably Tuscan and he looked friendly. She gave him a smile and a wave.

  ‘Good afternoon. I’m Lucy, Lucy Young. I live here now.’

  They shook hands across the wall and for a moment it reminded her of the end of a tennis match which, in turn, reminded her of David, and she spared him another thought as he tried to fight his way into his home through a media scramble.

  ‘My name’s Guido Scandicci. I’m very pleased to meet you. Did I hear you speaking English with my dog?’

  ‘That’s right. I’m English, but I work here now. I’m a doctor.’

  They stood and chatted and she found him very approachable. One thing he said made her ears prick up. It was when she asked him what he did.

  ‘I’m a professor of Medieval History at Florence University.’

  ‘Did you say Medieval History? That’s my field of interest as well.’ She was quick to correct herself. ‘Purely as an amateur of course. But I’ve just come back from checking out the fresco commemorating Giovanni Acuto, John Hawkwood, in Florence.’

  ‘Well, well, well. One of my doctoral students is doing a thesis based around Hawkwood and his mercenary army, the White Company, so I’ve also been doing a considerable amount of research on him. You’ll have to come round for a glass of wine some time and I’ll see if I can give you any pointers.’

  That sounded amazing. ‘That would be wonderful. Thank you so much.’

  Chapter 20

  The next day marked the start of a week of night duty. Lucy had already done this the previous month and had managed pretty well, although, as always with nights, the first was the most difficult until the body began to get used to the change in timetable.

  It was a quiet night and she spent a lot of it in the empty patients’ lounge, flicking through the comprehensive collection of newspapers in a variety of languages, ranging from Italian to Arabic. It came as no surprise to find that all of them, without exception, mentioned David to a greater or lesser degree. Even the Wall Street Journal had an article headed Tennis Ace Emerges From Hiding. Some alluded to his failed marriage, but most were fairly positive or at worst, neutral towards him. All acknowledged that he was one of the all-time tennis greats, and most appeared genuinely sorry for him that his career had been brought to an end by injury.

  The Times added an extra dimension to the mystery of why he had chosen to go into hiding by adding an oblique reference to stories of his having had a mental breakdown as a result of his injuries. Although she had checked out his physical record, she hadn’t spoken to Franz the psychiatrist about him but, if this were correct, it might well explain why things had gone sour between him and his wife. Depression can be tough on partners.

  After exhausting the newspapers and doing yet another round of the patients, Lucy went to the kitchen area to see her Syrian friend, Ahmed, the night porter. As he spotted her, his face split into a smile and he greeted her in his remarkably fluent English. He was on permanent nightshift here and she often met him on his way out as she was just arriving at work.

  ‘Hi, Ahmed, how’re you doing?’

  ‘Fine, thanks, Lucy. Can I get you a coffee? Black with just a drop of cold milk, right?’

  ‘You know me so well.’

  She sat with him and they chatted. He was one of the fortunate ones who had managed to survive the perilous crossing of the Mediterranean from Turkey to Greece and then had made his way – mostly on foot – into Italy, where he had been even luckier to find this job. Many of his fellow asylum-seekers were languishing in detention camps or worse. He was sending almost all the money he earned back to Syria to help support his elderly parents and his three sisters, and Lucy knew how hard life must be – for him and for them. He had trained as a secondary school teacher, but his school had been destroyed in an air strike and he had only just escaped with his life.

  His news tonight was that he had met a girl – another refugee from Syria who was working as a cleaner in Siena – and it was clear he liked her a lot. Lucy was delighted for him. If anybody deserved a bit of happiness it was Ahmed, after all he had gone through. As they talked, he asked Lucy if she had a husband an
d when she shook her head, he expressed surprise.

  ‘Why aren’t you married? Any man would be proud to have you as his wife.’

  She smiled at him. ‘That’s very sweet, Ahmed, but I’ve been busy.’

  ‘Too busy for love?’

  She shook her head ruefully. ‘I’ve tried that, but it didn’t work out.’

  ‘Don’t you worry, Lucy, you will find somebody.’

  She wondered if he was right. Of her dreams for the future, all she had so far was the house and the rambling rose by her door, while the other elements in the package remained frustratingly absent.

  When she surfaced just after lunchtime the next day after sleeping off her night shift, she found a letter lying on her doormat. She opened it and was delighted to find the formal invitation to Nicole’s wedding in September. Nicole and her fiancé François had decided to tie the knot and she was really happy for them. The wedding would take place in Nicole’s home village in Provence and the invitation was to Lucy and Companion. For a moment she wondered what it would be like if she turned up on the arm of a world-famous tennis star, but immediately discarded this as wild fantasy. However, on checking her phone, she found a message waiting for her from David and her heart gave another involuntary leap.

  Hi Lucy. Hope you slept well after night duty. If you feel like a swim, you’re very welcome here this afternoon. Give me a call if you’re interested. D

  She called him straightaway.

  ‘Hi, David, thanks for the invite but first, how did it go on Friday? Was it awful?’

  ‘It was okay. There was a lot of pushing and shoving, but most of them were pleasant enough. I even recognised some of them. A few of them were a pain in the ass, but it wasn’t so bad. How was night duty?’

  ‘Pretty quiet, thanks. No emergencies, I’m pleased to say.’

  ‘That’s good. Unless you’re going back off to bed again, do you feel like a swim this afternoon?’

  ‘I’d love a swim. It’s certainly hot enough.’ She glanced out of the window. The sky was unbroken blue and the distant hills barely visible through the heat haze. ‘Shall I come up in the car?’

  ‘You can if you like, although it might be a bit of a struggle to get through the gates and you’d probably find lots of people taking your picture. Armando tells me there are two TV trucks parked there as well today. I have another idea. How about you walk up through the olive groves and we meet up where I met you with Boris that time? We can then get in through the side gate in the fence.’

  When Lucy got up the hill to the fallen tree an hour later, she found him already there with his dog. Boris came bounding across to greet her, tail wagging furiously, and Lucy had a hard time trying not to let her own tail wag too much as she went over to kiss David on the cheeks. There was no doubt about it; she was really pleased to see him, millionaire or not. As she stepped back and released him, she was delighted to see him smiling as well.

  ‘Lucy, hi. It’s great to see you.’

  ‘And you, David.’ She sat down on the fallen tree trunk and patted the spot beside her. ‘Come and tell me all about it. I must have read a dozen newspapers last night from all over the world and I reckon you’ve come out all right.’

  He sat down beside her. ‘It could be worse. At least I can stop ducking and diving and live my life – give or take a pack of paparazzi.’

  They chatted for a while before he suggested heading for the pool. Boris led the way and they entered the villa grounds through a galvanised metal gate set in the fence only a few hundred yards further on from the clump of broom bushes where she had almost been caught with her pants down. She felt her cheeks flush at the memory.

  Once they were inside, he locked the gate behind them and she felt sure it was a sensible precaution. The pool was on the far side of the villa and as they walked through the ruins of the castle to get there she told him about her next-door neighbour, the professor. As she did so, she had a thought.

  ‘Now that you’re no longer a hermit, how would you feel about coming round some time? I could invite him as well and we could talk history.’ This would also rather neatly get him back into her house without it having to be considered as any kind of date.

  ‘That would be great.’ He sounded genuinely interested. ‘Whenever you like.’

  ‘I’ll see if he’s around next Saturday. I’ll have finished nights by then so I could cook you both a meal.’ She glanced towards him. ‘I’m not the best cook in the world, but I promise not to poison you.’

  ‘Don’t go to any trouble. And let me know if I can bring anything. You’ll be getting a bottle of champagne whether you want it or not.’

  ‘Wonderful, but that’s all, and do bring Boris with you. I’ll get Guido, my neighbour, to bring his Lab. That way the two brothers can be together.’

  ‘Talking of dogs, I’d better drop Boris back to the villa. He’s not allowed in the pool. His hair clogs up the filter.’

  The pool was almost hidden from view by a dense hedge made up of oleander bushes, all now in flower. The pinks, reds and whites made a lovely colourful barrier, as well as no doubt forming a useful windbreak on windy days. The pool was also completely screened from the road. Lucy was already wearing her new, pricey and fairly minimal bikini under her clothes. She had purchased this from a rather posh shop in the middle of Siena the previous evening on her way to work, in the hope of another invitation to swim in David’s pool. Now, as she stripped off her shorts and her top, she was feeling more than a little nervous. Although she had seen, touched, and operated on his body already, seeing him in his swimming shorts in this environment, and feeling his eyes on her gave her a thrill and she wasted no time in stepping down into the pool and ducking her shoulders below the waterline. It was heavenly and she abandoned herself for what felt like ages, just floating idly around with her eyes closed. The millionaire lifestyle might be artificial and contemptible, but there could be no doubt it did have its compensations.

  Finally, she roused herself from her somnolent state and climbed back out of the water. David was lying stretched out on a sunbed. She was just dabbing herself dry when she heard his voice, this time sounding suddenly serious.

  ‘Lucy, come with me, quick!’ He jumped to his feet remarkably nimbly, caught hold of her arm and hurried her across to the door of the little pool house. For a moment she wondered what his intentions might be as he dragged her along, but he soon explained. ‘Drone, there’s a drone coming. Can’t you hear it?’

  She couldn’t hear a thing, but she followed him without question. As they stood close side-by-side inside the little cubicle, he peered out of the half-closed door and pointed. ‘See, up there. Armando said he’d seen one buzzing about.’

  She leant forward and stared along the line of his arm. First she heard the noise. It was barely audible, not a lot louder than an angry bee and she was impressed he had heard it, although, after years of media attention, no doubt his ears were attuned to this sort of thing. Sure enough, a star-shaped drone the size of a substantial bird of prey was hovering over the pool, an object strapped to its underside that was obviously a camera.

  ‘Bastards!’ There was real feeling in his voice. ‘I’m going to tell Armando to get his shotgun out.’

  As they waited there for the drone to lose interest, she was very conscious that their near-naked bodies were so close she could feel the hairs of his forearm against her bare skin. She found herself wondering what she would do if he moved his mouth only a few inches down towards hers and kissed her. Just as she was coming to terms with the realisation that, in spite of all her reservations, she would have no hesitation in kissing him back, he straightened up and, maybe realising they were too close together, moved a few inches in the other direction, leaving her with a sensation almost of abandonment.

  ‘It’s going.’ He glanced back down at her. ‘Sorry about that, Lucy. These guys just know no boundaries. Seriously, later on I’m going down to the gate to tell them I’ll shoot the damn thing
out of the sky next time I see it. Anyway, for now we should be okay, but maybe best to stay under the parasol.’

  They went back out into the full heat of the sun and lay down side by side under the shelter of a wide parasol. Lucy’s heart was pounding in her chest and she knew this had nothing to do with the drone. She couldn’t fool herself any more. She definitely found David very attractive and the sensation of his naked flesh against hers had been highly stimulating. This threw up a number of problems.

  First, there was the continued uncertainty about whether he was a cheat, although the more time she spent with him, the less credible this appeared. In fact, had it not been for her experience of infidelity at the hands of Charles, she would already have dismissed it as impossible. Equally annoying was the simple fact that he hadn’t demonstrated the slightest sign of attraction as far as she was concerned. She had always considered herself to be a modern, self-confident woman, but she knew that in this case there was no way she was confident enough to make the first move. It was frustrating, but she knew this was the way it had to be.

  Chapter 21

  The week passed slowly as she worked by night and rested by day. To her disappointment, David went off to Paris and London for five days to meet with his agent and to do a series of media interviews. She was in the guest lounge of the clinic, watching his interview on Sky Sports being replayed in the small hours of Thursday morning when she was called away for an emergency. She found herself having to attend to a charming elderly man, recovering from a prostatectomy, who had somehow managed to dislodge his catheter, and by the time she had successfully reconnected him to his plastic bag and sat with him to reassure him and calm him down, the interview was over.

  All week she had been thinking a lot about David, not least because on Tuesday she had finally signed on the dotted line, handed over the balance of the money, and bought the cottage. David’s place in the notary’s office had been taken by his lawyer so her delight at finally becoming a homeowner had been somewhat tempered by David’s absence.