A Little Piece of Paradise: A sweeping story of sisterhood, secrets and romance (Love from Italy Book 1)

by T A Williams

  Before long they reached the same bench where she had first spotted her sister yesterday, and they continued on past it until the trees petered out and she was walking along the very crest of the ridge towards what looked like an old military installation situated directly above the sea far below. It was more exposed up here and the vegetation was now just sun-scorched grass and low scrub amid the rocky outcrops. As the view opened out on either side she could see for miles and miles in both directions. The sea was light blue at the shore and a deeper blue further out, and there was hardly a wave to be seen. The sky was cloudless and it felt good to be alive. Clearly, they hadn’t named this place paradise for nothing.

  She threw a stick for Jeeves to retrieve and let her mind roam. It looked as though relations with her sister were gradually on the mend and she began to feel a bit more confident that the two of them would be able to last out the full three months without scratching each other’s eyes out. What would happen then? From what she had gathered, Rachel had given up her current job in order to come over here for the summer but Sophie assumed she would then want them to sell the castle so she could head back to the States with her half of the proceeds. That was only an assumption and it would be interesting to find out if there was anything or anyone calling her to return to Florida. As for Sophie herself, the short answer was that she didn’t know.

  After a degree in English at Exeter, followed by an MSc in Media and Communications at LSE in London, she had set her sights on a career in journalism, and the job offer that had sent her to Rome had appeared like manna from heaven at the time. Since the company had gone under and she had ended up unemployed, she had been having a lot of trouble trying to find another job. With newspapers going out of business left, right and centre, she had even been coming round to thinking that she should maybe try her hand at something completely different – the question, of course, was what? She felt comfortable being back in Italy so maybe she should try to capitalise on her fluency in the two languages to look for something over here if she couldn’t find an online job in journalism. The two obvious careers were teaching English to Italians, or hospitality. Could she see herself as a teacher or could she see herself behind a reception desk for the rest of her life? It was a conundrum.

  ‘Well, Jeeves, at least I’ve got three months to think it over.’

  He sauntered up to her side, tail wagging lazily, licked her hand, and then trotted back into the bushes in search of a stick to carry home as a trophy. She watched him happily occupied without a care in the world apart from finding a stick and getting his food, and she had to admit it wasn’t a bad life being a Labrador with all this open space in which to run around. And of course the castle grounds themselves were enormous and she wondered how much the place might be worth here in Italy. Pocketing a few hundred thousand or maybe even more would radically alter her situation. She gazed back in the direction of the village and realised that from here she could clearly make out the battlements of the castle and the trees surrounding it. There was no question it was a unique and surely desirable property. Might it be her financial salvation?

  When she got back to the castle, it was to find that Signora Morandi had already arrived and was in the kitchen. She was doing something at the oven and turned as she heard the back door open. She was probably in her sixties, but agile-looking and, as she saw Sophie, her eyes lit up.

  ‘Buongiorno.’

  ‘Buongiorno, Signora Morandi? Sono Sophie.’

  Signora Morandi beamed at her and continued in Italian as they shook hands. ‘How splendid. You speak Italian. Signor George told me you and your sister spoke it, but I was afraid I might have to try to speak English to you. I’m afraid we would all have had a hard time if that had been the case.’

  While they were talking Jeeves pushed past and trotted over to say hello. After a moment of apprehension, the signora must have realised he was friendly and she bent down to pet him. As she did so, Sophie remembered she had a confession to make.

  ‘I have to apologise for messing up one of the towels last night. The dog got into the swimming pool just as we were going out to the restaurant and I had to try to dry him off. I looked for the oldest towel I could find and I was going to wash it today.’

  ‘Don’t you worry about that. Leave that to me. What a handsome dog. Is he yours? Did you bring him all the way from England?’

  ‘He’s even got a passport, although I’m sure he doesn’t mind whether he’s in England or in Italy. You can speak to him in any language and he’ll understand as long as you’re holding food.’

  ‘Talking of food, have you had breakfast yet?’ Seeing Sophie shake her head, she continued. ‘I’ve just put some croissants in the oven to heat up. They’re fresh this morning. Shall I make some coffee as well?’

  ‘That sounds super, Signora Morandi. I’ll go and see if my sister’s awake.’

  ‘Please call me Rita. Everybody does.’ She smiled again. ‘I’m the last of seven children and my parents must have run out of ideas by the time I arrived, so they named me after the town. I still live in Santa Rita now.’

  ‘So you’re the saint of Santa Rita.’ Sophie went up to wake Rachel, reflecting that somebody who turned up with fresh croissants and offered to make breakfast was a worthy candidate for canonisation in her book.

  She left Jeeves with his nose pointed at the oven door, nostrils flared, and went up to her room. As she went in, she could hear the sound of the shower running next door. She went into her own bathroom and took a shower herself, emerging clean and fresh ten minutes later to find Rachel waiting for her in the corridor.

  ‘Hi, Soph. No dog?’

  ‘He’s downstairs in the kitchen. We’ve just been out for a walk along the headland. It’s another gorgeous day and the views are amazing.’

  ‘I’m sure…’ Rachel looked a bit uncomfortable. ‘Look, Soph, about last night, I’ve been a bit jet-lagged and I suppose I just wasn’t thinking straight. Sorry.’

  ‘No worries.’ Sophie caught her sister’s eye. ‘Seriously. I was a bit freaked out myself, seeing as it was our first night in a spooky sort of place. The good news is that I slept well and neither Jeeves nor I were visited by any ghosts. All well with you?’

  Rachel nodded. ‘It took me a bit of time to drop off but then I slept almost all the way through.’

  ‘Great. Coming down to the kitchen? Signora Morandi’s arrived with hot croissants and she’s making us breakfast as we speak. She answers to Rita, but you have to speak to her in Italian, if you can remember how.’

  ‘Better than you might think. All the people in the pizzeria where I was working for the first couple of years spoke either Spanish or Italian and I got fairly fluent. I’m still good friends with most of them now so I often find myself speaking both languages.’

  Back downstairs, Sophie found her dog stretched out under the table with a suspicious number of crumbs on the floor around him. Rita was quick to explain that she had given him half a bread roll as ‘he looked hungry’. Sophie thanked her and added a caveat.

  ‘Labradors in general, and this one in particular, are notoriously greedy, so don’t be fooled. Given half a chance he’d eat until he explodes.’

  Rachel introduced herself and soon the three of them were chatting freely. Sophie was impressed to hear that her sister’s Italian was indeed fluent – albeit with an occasional Spanish word thrown in from time to time. Just as Signor Verdi had said, Rita was a goldmine of information on everything, from the best places to walk the dog, to the history of the castle, which was indeed medieval. By the time they had finished their breakfast they both knew a lot more about Paradiso and its surroundings.

  Their appointment at the bank was at eleven o’clock down in the town so they left Jeeves in the kitchen with Rita and set out early, so as to check out the town and the beach. Sophie felt more comfortable taking her own car, but it was still making that same clatter and as they drove down the road that led into town, the smell of burning st
arted up again. Rachel also noticed.

  ‘That’s a bit ominous. Hope it’s not the brakes – this is a steep hill.’

  At that moment they reached the first hairpin bend and their attention was drawn to a charming stone house set back from the road right at the apex of the corner. It was all on its own in a large garden among the trees and there could be no doubt about it. Sophie was about to comment when Rachel got there first.

  ‘That must be Dan’s house… I wonder if he’s got that brunette with him.’ Her voice was still wistful. Clearly she hadn’t given up hope yet. To be honest, neither had Sophie, but she decided not to speculate out loud.

  At the bottom of the hill, just as they were coming out onto the main road, Sophie spotted a garage on the left-hand side and made a quick decision. Pulling across the road, she drove onto the forecourt and was still getting out of the car when a tall man in overalls emerged from the workshop, wiping his hands on an oily rag.

  ‘Signora, buongiorno.’

  ‘Good morning, I wonder if you could take a look at my car. It’s making a funny noise.’

  He nodded. ‘I could hear that. That’s why I came out. It sounds to me as if you’ve blown your exhaust.’

  ‘Is that bad?’

  To her considerable relief, he shook his head. ‘It’ll probably need to be replaced, in part or completely, but it’s not a major job.’ He caught her eye and smiled. ‘Or expense.’

  ‘That’s good to hear. Um… when might you have time to take a look at it?’

  ‘If you can leave it with me for a couple of hours, I’ll see what I can do this morning, even if it’s only a temporary fix.’

  ‘Fantastic, thanks. Is it far from here to the town centre and the beach?’

  He shook his head. ‘A quarter of an hour on foot at most. Just follow this road straight on down.’

  Sophie thanked him profusely, left him the car, and she and Rachel set off along the road as instructed. Sure enough, in little over ten minutes they found themselves in the main street. This road ran parallel to the sea and was set back behind the first row of buildings by the beach. It was full of shops, many of them clothes shops and, as so often here in Italy, with at least three pharmacies. The good news was that they also spotted no fewer than four ice cream shops with a wide selection of flavours on offer. The nineteen seventies buildings flanking the main street weren’t particularly attractive, but the selection of shops, bars and restaurants looked promising. After locating the bank, seeing as they still had half an hour, they carried on to the seafront. The main Via Aurelia – the old Roman road around the coast – ran parallel to the beach, separated from the fine expanse of sand by a raised promenade flanked by palm trees.

  They strolled along the promenade, admiring the view. Although Rita had told them it would get even busier when August arrived, the beach was already packed with people bobbing about in the sea, children playing, and pedalos trailing slowly up and down. As was common all over Italy, the beach had been carved up into mostly private bagni where, for a price, holidaymakers could have the use of sunbeds, parasols, changing cabins, showers and even a beachside bar. They noted one called Bagni Aurelia which Rita had told them was run by her nephew and decided to come down here for a swim in the sea at some point – although with the luxury of their very own pool up at the castle, it hardly seemed necessary.

  All in all it was a pleasant little seaside resort, complete with candy floss, ice creams, and shops selling buckets and spades, but without any of the antique charm of Paradiso. Sophie could see why Uncle George had chosen to live up there rather than down here. She swivelled her head round and could just make out the crenellated top of the castle among the roofs and trees on the hilltop and she resolved to explore the building fully later on when they got back home, as the view from the roof was bound to be exceptional.

  At the bank they were ushered into the manager’s office with unexpected deference. It was clear that Uncle George had been a valued client. Sophie knew from personal experience that bureaucracy in Italy, particularly in the banking system, was often protracted and infuriating. In consequence she was surprised and delighted to find that the formalities were quickly concluded, and the manager produced a little key which he handed across to them.

  ‘This is your key to the safe deposit box. If you’d like to accompany me to the vault, your uncle wanted you to take a look at the contents.’

  Down in the basement was a heavily armoured vault with a row of small lockers along one wall. Sophie inserted the key into number 337 while the manager inserted his own and they opened it together. The manager withdrew his key and stepped back discreetly.

  ‘Please take your time. When you’ve finished, just close the door of the box again and it’ll lock automatically. Don’t forget to keep the key somewhere safe. If you need anything, press the button on the wall by the door. Arrivederci.’

  They shook hands and he left. Rachel reached in, pulled out a slim tin box and opened it on a convenient tabletop. Inside were three envelopes. Two were thick and unmarked, the third was much slimmer and had both their names on it. Rachel opened this one first and read it out. It was dated February like the one Signor Bianchi had read out to them and it wasn’t long.

  Dear Sophie and Rachel

  By the time you read this I will be dead. They tell me the cancer is inoperable and I have only a few months left. I can’t complain. I’ve had a good life and I’m pleased to say I don’t have too many regrets, but prime among these is the fact that I will not see you two girls again. Still, I can at least provide for you.

  Along with this note you will find an envelope for each of you with hopefully enough euros to keep you over the summer months. I do so hope you will be able to kiss and make up. I love you both dearly and it saddened me greatly to think of you separated for so long. If you want to do something to thank me, then all I ask is that you put aside your differences and become the loving sisters you used to be.

  I send you my love and wish you both the happiest of lives. Thinking of you always.

  Your uncle

  George.

  Rachel managed to get through it without losing her voice completely but she was reduced to barely a croak by the time she finished. Wiping away her own tears, Sophie reached for the remaining two envelopes and handed one to Rachel. She opened hers and was stunned to find fifteen thousand euros in green one hundred euro notes. A quick bit of mental arithmetic told her that this added up to more than a thousand euros a week from now until the end of September – certainly more than enough for her to live in extremely comfortable style. She glanced over at Rachel and saw her looking similarly staggered.

  ‘Blimey, Rach, we’re rich.’

  ‘You aren’t joking. How amazingly generous of him.’ Rachel managed a little smile in spite of the tears in her eyes. ‘Good old Uncle George.’

  ‘Amen to that.’

  Chapter 5

  When they got back to the garage it was to find the car already waiting for them outside on the forecourt. The mechanic came out to explain what he had done.

  ‘You’re going to need a new exhaust and I’ll order that if you give me the go-ahead. It should be here in a matter of two or three days. In the meantime I’ve done a quick repair with an exhaust bandage that should last a few weeks.’ He went on to tell them how much the new exhaust would cost to buy and fit, and Sophie was pleasantly surprised – not least as she now had five thousand euros stuffed safely into the bottom of her bag. They had both decided to leave the bulk of the cash in the safe deposit box just in case, but five thousand each would surely last them for ages. The little silver key to the box in the bank vault was also safely stowed with the money in her bag and they would hide it somewhere secure when they got back to the castle. She thanked the man warmly and offered to pay for what he had done but he waved her money away and told her she could pay for it at the end. She gave him her phone number and he promised to let her know when the new part arrived.

&nb
sp; The ‘quick repair’ had a magical effect and the car sounded completely different now as it positively purred up the hill to the castle. When they got there they were greeted warmly by Jeeves who, according to Rita, had behaved himself perfectly in their absence. While Rachel retired to her room to check her emails and Rita returned home to prepare lunch for her husband, Sophie and Jeeves went for another stroll around the grounds. As she was resting in the shade of a monkey-puzzle tree, watching the dog doing his best to dig a hole in the sun-baked ground, her phone rang and she saw from the caller ID that it was Chris.

  ‘Hi, Chris. How’s things?’ She felt a familiar shot of pleasure at the sound of his voice.

  ‘I’m fine but how about you? Did the trip go well? Did the car behave itself and did Jeeves behave himself? Come to think of it, did you behave yourself?’

  Sophie told him all about her journey and described the castle and Paradiso in glowing terms, all the while thinking about the exact nature of her feelings for him. It was genuinely nice to hear his voice and to chat to him. She knew him so well and there was little doubt in her mind that he was a close friend, probably the best. She had been thinking about him a lot in the course of the journey down here. Because he had been going out with Claire, her flatmate at uni, she had always suppressed the attraction she felt for him, but might she want her best friend to morph into something more?

  She was reminded of a scene from When Harry Met Sally when Billy Crystal tells Meg Ryan that men and women can never be just friends because sex always gets in the way. Was this true? Could she and Chris ever be more than just friends?