by T A Williams
‘And are you still feeling stressed?’ She glanced across but saw little of the rather careworn expression on his face that she had noted before. ‘Is something still bothering you?’
‘It’s far better now. Without going into detail, I’d been getting a lot of grief on social media and I needed to get away. I’ve hardly used the computer for anything more than emails for years now and I feel a hell of a lot better as a result.’
‘When you say “grief”, what sort of grief?’
‘Everything from ridicule to death threats.’ He caught her eye and nodded. ‘I know, it’s unbelievable the stuff people are prepared to say from behind the anonymity of their computer screens.’
Alice knew only too well just what he meant. Although she had never had death threats, she had regularly received the most barbed insults and even threats of sexual violence, which had led her to do the same and drop out of all social media. She toyed with the idea of telling him, but decided that, as it really did appear he had no idea who she was, she would leave it like that. At least that way she would know that any reaction from him would be towards her as a real person, not to Polly the flirt. She wondered what he had done to attract all this negative attention but, as he seemed unwilling to go into any detail, she decided to relegate that line of enquiry to a later date. The main thing, for now, was that he had started talking.
Attempting to steer the conversation to different territory, she told him what Claudio had said about the possible Amerigo Vespucci connection and was surprised to find that this struck an immediate chord. He picked up his teaspoon, turned it over and used the narrow end to trace the shape of a shield onto a paper napkin. As he drew it, she saw immediately that it was the same design, with the stripe and the wasps, as the coat of arms at the villa.
‘Wow, that’s it!’
‘You sure this is the shield you saw?’
‘Absolutely.’ She felt a thrill of genuine excitement run through her. ‘Where have you seen that?’
‘It’s etched into a slab set in the wall on the ground floor as you come into the tower.’ He looked up at her and she could see excitement in his eyes now. ‘Do you think it might have belonged to Vespucci?’
‘Well, it’s the same shield they found at the villa, so it would make sense, seeing as they’re side by side and the villa is supposedly built on medieval foundations. I wonder… I don’t suppose I could take a closer look at it by any chance?’
She saw him hesitate again and she waited with bated breath. Finally, he nodded.
‘Of course, any time you like. This evening, if it suits you? Why not come along at six and I’ll give you the tour? But, be warned, the place is in a terrible mess and there are a lot of steps.’
Chapter 18
Alice spent a lot of the day researching Amerigo Vespucci but was only able to find sketchy traces of his family after his death in Spain in 1512. She did, however, read all about his career and the controversy surrounding just how many times he actually travelled to the New World and how his name became associated with the continent. She gradually put together a brief paper, outlining the facts and pointing to the possible significance of the presence of the coat of arms in Panzano, as well as the villa. This, she felt sure, would be of interest to Conrad Chesterfield. She hadn’t heard from him since their brief encounter at Giovanni’s restaurant and she seriously doubted whether he would contact her. She decided that she would drop the paper into his letterbox as a little parting gift before heading home at the beginning of August, and leave it at that.
She drove up to the tower at six o’clock and took with her a bottle of the local sparkling wine to which Signor Innocenti had introduced her. She had debated what to wear and had decided not to go overboard, so she had chosen the same simple summer dress she had worn for lunch with Claudio. This wasn’t the time to pull out her designer frocks. Even so, by the time she finally decided she was presentable, she calculated she had been in the bathroom for even longer than the fairly lengthy make-up sessions she had had to go through before the shooting of every episode of Pals. In spite of this, she kept checking her appearance in the rear-view mirror all the way up to the tower and almost ran into a ditch as a result. For what was, in all likelihood, just going to be a short viewing of a historical artefact, she was far more nervous than at almost any time she had been in front of the cameras.
When she reached the gates, she pressed the bell and after a brief delay they opened automatically. As the car crunched up the gravel drive to the tower, a familiar black shape emerged from the trees and came running alongside, barking excitedly. She pulled up and opened the door, her nerves slightly reassured by the presence of the dog. As soon as Guinness realised it was his new best friend in the driving seat, he nearly jumped on top of her. She scratched his ears and persuaded him to let her climb out, but then he immediately goosed her with his cold wet nose – the dress was maybe a tad short – making her jump and blush with embarrassment. She was just smoothing her dress and endeavouring to calm herself down when she heard Matt’s voice.
‘Good evening, Alice. You look… a bit different from this morning.’ This sounded complimentary but she wasn’t going to get too excited yet. She just kept it light, hoping her cheeks weren’t glowing too brightly as a result of the Labrador’s friendly assault.
‘I thought it was time to make a change from the sweaty, unkempt look.’ He was wearing jeans and a light blue polo shirt, and he looked good. ‘No shorts tonight?’
‘Seeing as you’re the first female visitor to the tower since my mother at Easter, I thought I should make an effort. Come on in.’
Alice handed him the bottle of wine and digested this snippet of information, as they walked up half a dozen stone steps to the entrance. This was an imposing arched wooden door almost six feet wide, studded with ancient square-headed nails. On either side of the doorway were narrow arrow slits, while the real windows didn’t begin until further up the building. The massive stones used in its construction looked as if they had always been there, and Alice got a real shiver of history as he pushed the door open and ushered her into a dark hallway.
‘The coat of arms is over here.’
He flicked a light switch and led her across to a stone slab, sculpted in the shape of a shield, set in the wall directly opposite the door, alongside a steep stone stairway. Any visitor to the tower would have been unable to miss this very obvious sign of ownership. She checked it out and confirmed that it was identical to the two other shields she had seen. It was unmistakably the Vespucci coat of arms. She pulled out her phone.
‘Would you mind if I took a photo or two?’
‘Of course. Go ahead.’ She noticed that he retreated several paces, so as to be well out of shot.
Once she was satisfied with the pictures she had taken, he ushered her towards the stone stairway with a word of warning. ‘It’s a long way to the top, but the view’s worth it, I promise. But with all the running you do, you’ll probably get there faster than me. Just be careful where you put your feet. Some of the steps are odd heights. Why they couldn’t make them all the same, I really don’t know.’
‘Ah, but I do – or at least I think I do.’ Alice rolled out a snippet of historical information she had picked up in the course of her studies. ‘I remember reading that medieval castle builders sometimes deliberately did that so that attacking soldiers trying to charge up the stairs would end up flat on their faces.’ She gave him a little grin. ‘Mind you, that might just be a useful excuse for some pretty shoddy building work.’
She was very conscious that she was wearing a fairly short skirt and he was walking behind her, and this realisation did little to calm her nerves. The first to get to the top was the dog, who scampered effortlessly up the tortuous stone staircase. As they climbed, it got lighter and lighter in there as the window openings set in the substantial walls grew wider. They finally arrived at the top floor, where wide arched windows flooded evening sunlight into the room. Unlike
the other floors, where she had seen doorways – presumably leading to bedrooms and so on – this huge area was wide open and it was an unexpectedly large space, occupying the whole width of the tower. There was a lounge area, a dining area and a state-of-the-art kitchen over on the far side. It was a stunning room, and she stood and admired her surroundings for some time before speaking.
‘Matt, this place is awesome. Really, it’s amazing and you’re so very, very lucky to be able to live here.’
He nodded. ‘I know. All right, there are times when the stairs are a pain – my mum and dad complained like hell – but I mainly bought it for this room. I spend most of my time up here and I just love it. Here, seeing as we’re climbing, let’s go the whole hog and I’ll show you the roof.’
Over to one side of the room was a much narrower staircase – also made of stone – that climbed steeply and disappeared into the ceiling high above. At the top was a low doorway. He pushed the hefty door open and they walked out into the evening light. The sun was still above the horizon but was already flushing the western sky a delicate shade of pink. Alice stood stock-still and breathed deeply. It was stunning. The whole of the Chianti region was laid out before her, forming a charming tapestry of little villages, vineyards, olive groves, farmhouses and villas – including the villa of the wasps directly below them.
‘What do you think?’ She heard his voice at her shoulder.
What she thought was that this had to be one of the most romantic views on the face of the earth. She felt a warm, happy glow spread through her, as she let her eyes roam across it. Finally, she glanced towards him.
‘I’m speechless, Matt. It’s absolutely stunning. Thank you so much for letting me experience it.’
‘I’m glad you like it as much as I do. Now, what can I get you to drink?’
‘Anything cold. You choose.’
‘I’m afraid I won’t have any of my own wine until next year, but I have got some of Virgilio’s cold rosé in the fridge. I like it a lot. Unless you prefer me to open that bottle you so kindly brought, maybe you might like to try some rosé?’
‘Some rosé sounds perfect, thanks.’
They returned to the big living room and she sat down on one of a pair of smart modern sofas. The dog positioned himself on a rug at her feet and when Matt returned with the wine, he sat down opposite her, at least two or three metres away. Well, she told herself, he certainly couldn’t be accused of crowding her.
The wine was indeed good and they settled down to chat. Very gradually, she managed to get him to talk more about himself, but she couldn’t get a clue as to why he had been suffering so much abuse on social media. Whenever the subject moved in that direction, he skilfully steered it away again and she took the hint. She did, however, make one interesting discovery, which went a long way towards explaining why he had been looking a bit glum from time to time. When he wasn’t working on the estate, he admitted that he was trying to write a book, but he was suffering from chronic writer’s block. He told her he had been agonising about making a start on it for months, without being able to put a single word down on the page.
‘What sort of stuff are you thinking of writing?’
‘To be honest, I don’t really know and that’s what’s screwing me up at present. I’m torn between trying to write something lightweight or even humorous and something a bit more meaningful, but every time I think I’ve decided what I’m going to do, I end up just staring at the blank page.’
‘Do you have a background in writing?’
‘Sort of. I used to be a journalist, but there’s a big difference between a thousand-word article and a book.’
Alice wondered how a journalist – however good at his job – might have managed to amass enough money to buy this amazing historic building, but she sensed he was still reticent to talk. In particular, he didn’t say what he had been doing since giving up journalism, so she didn’t press him, as it was none of her business – at least until she got to know him better.
‘I’ve been doing a bit of writing myself. It’s just a little paper about Amerigo Vespucci and the wasps on the coat of arms. If it’s okay with you, I’d like to mention the shield you’ve just shown me here in the tower and add a photo. Would that be all right?’
‘Of course, but preferably without naming names. The last thing I want is a horde of eager tourists or academics pestering me for a look at it. Escaping to Tuscany was so I could live in peace.’
‘Of course. It’s just for fun, really. I was wondering – once I’ve done that, could I email it to you, and do you think you could do me a favour and print me off a copy to give to the people at the villa? I don’t have access to a printer here. And, of course, take a copy for yourself if you’re interested.’
‘I’d love that, thank you, and of course I’ll run off a copy or two. Just send it over and I’ll get onto it.’ He dictated his email address and she reflected that, while not a phone number, this was a step in the right direction as far as getting closer to him was concerned.
It was getting quite dark when she glanced at her watch and saw that it was almost eight o’clock. Finishing her drink, she got to her feet and looked across at him. As she did so, the Labrador – who had been snoring happily, occasionally running in his sleep – opened one eye and his tail gave a single lazy thump on the floor. She looked down at him affectionately for a few moments, before addressing his master.
‘I’d better get back home. Tell me something, just for curiosity’s sake. I’ve been looking round the room, but I can’t see a TV. Does this mean you don’t have one?’ Maybe this was why he hadn’t recognised her.
‘There is a TV in one of the bedrooms on the floor below, but I hardly ever turn it on. I’ve never been particularly interested, really, not since I was a kid. I’d rather read a book, to tell the truth. I haven’t a clue what’s on these days, although from what people tell me, it’s mostly rubbish. To be quite honest, over recent years since giving up the day job, I’ve done my best to avoid social media, newspapers and TV like the plague. I listen to the news on the radio from time to time but, otherwise, I stay away from all that sort of thing.’
‘That sounds pretty radical.’ Although it was almost exactly what she had been doing. Maybe they had more in common than she had initially thought. It also went a long way towards explaining why he hadn’t recognised her.
‘I know. I suppose it is, but I have my reasons.’ But, clearly, he wasn’t going to reveal them – at least not tonight.
They went back down the stairs and he accompanied her to her car, while the dog trotted off into the undergrowth. As she reached the car, she turned towards him.
‘Thank you for a lovely evening, Matt. Maybe you might like to come to my place one evening so I can return the favour?’
To her delight, he didn’t hesitate. ‘I’d like that, Alice, a lot.’
She held out her hand primly but, to her surprise – and considerable pleasure – he leant forward and kissed her gently on the cheeks. She was glad it was twilight, as she felt her face colour. Swallowing hard, she murmured her reply. ‘I look forward to it. Thanks again, Matt, and goodnight. Maybe see you in the morning.’
Chapter 19
She didn’t see him on her run the following morning but when she got back to her house she found a big white envelope in her letterbox. Inside it were a couple of printed copies of her paper on Amerigo Vespucci, which she had updated and sent to Matt before going to bed last night. Along with it was a handwritten note.
Hi Alice. Here are the copies you asked for. Really fascinating. I’ve kept one for myself – I hope that’s okay. I’ll be in the fields all day, but if you want to contact me, send me an email. Matt
It was hardly a billet-doux, but it was good to hear from him all the same. After showering, and changing into shorts and a fresh top, she made herself a cup of tea and set about composing an invitation to send to him by email.
Hi Matt. Thanks again for last night. I lo
ve your house. Would you like to drop in this evening for a drink? And do bring Guinness. Alice
She toyed with the idea of inserting a little x alongside her name, but as he hadn’t bothered, neither did she. She was just about to press Send when her phone started ringing. It was an unknown number and she answered cautiously in Italian.
‘Pronto, chi parla?’
‘Hi, can I speak with Alice, please?’ It was an American woman’s voice.
‘Hello, yes, this is Alice. Who’s speaking?’
‘Alice, hi, I’m Tracey – Conrad’s daughter. I saw you in the restaurant last week, remember?’
‘Yes, of course! Hi Tracey.’ Alice wasn’t sure if this was the red-haired woman or the one with the two children.
‘My father asked me to give you a call. We’re having a little drinks thing tonight and we hope you might like to come.’
Alice’s eyes flicked down to the email she had been composing. Nice as it would have been to have spent time with Matt again tonight, she knew she needed to say yes to this invitation. Apart from anything else, it would hopefully offer the chance to get rid of any lingering bad blood between her and Conrad, irrespective of her future career choices. It would also give her the opportunity to give him a copy of her paper on Vespucci.
‘That’s very kind, Tracey. I’d love to.’
‘Great. Say around six, if that suits you? By the way, there’s going to be another special guest here tonight: Felicity Winter.’
Alice was impressed. Felicity Winter was one of the biggest movie stars on the planet. Did this mean Conrad was maybe planning on moving on from TV to cinema? It would be interesting to find out. Alice had never met the legendary star before and she found herself looking forward to the prospect with some anticipation.
‘Wow, that sounds great.’ A thought occurred to her. ‘Is everybody going to be dressed up?’
‘We’re all on holiday, just come as you like. It’s not going to be evening dress or anything like that.’ That sounded reassuring, as did the next bit of advice. ‘There’s just one thing: it looks as though news of Felicity’s arrival here has got out. Paolo tells me there are two paparazzi outside the front gate. He advises you to walk up the road and come in through the side gate. He says you know which one, and you have the combination.’
