by T A Williams
She stretched lazily and then checked her emails: there were two, both of them fascinating in their own way. The first was from Matt and it was anything but wordy.
Hi Alice. Hope you’re okay. Can’t wait to see you. Off to dinner at La Pergola. A venerdì. Matt.
She couldn’t help grinning. He certainly didn’t waste words in his emails. Presumably, he had been in a rush. ‘See you on Friday’ sounded good and Alice felt another little shiver of love, lust or whatever it was run through her. She also realised she was feeling quite hungry and the idea of dinner in the famous Michelin-starred restaurant in Rome sounded most appealing – especially with him sitting opposite. Still, she would have him to herself the day after tomorrow, which wasn’t too long to wait. She sent him a short reply, telling him she was looking forward to seeing him again, and she added her phone number, wondering if he might take the hint and call her. It would be good to hear his voice. There was no doubt about it – she was spending a lot of time thinking about him.
Doing her best to relegate any further thought of him until another time, she checked the second email. Also short and sweet, it was from Antonia and it made interesting reading.
Hi Alice. I’m coming back to Europe at the weekend and would love to see you. I have some exciting news. Could we meet up in Florence on Saturday? Antonia
Alice was mildly surprised that Antonia was returning so soon, but she knew she would enjoy meeting up with her again and she wondered what the exciting news might be – presumably something to do with her new TV venture. She dashed off a quick reply, agreeing to meet, before her mind returned once more to the possible movie role that Fliss had mentioned. Fliss had said she would be back in LA next week, so Alice knew the time had come for her to make up her mind and tell her.
As she sat there in the gathering dusk, listening to the rain hammering down outside, she knew she had to put her name forward. Of course, they might say no and it might lead to nothing, but she had to give it a go. After all, the chance to appear in a big Hollywood movie alongside a star of Fliss’s calibre wasn’t the sort of opportunity that came along every day. As for the problems her return to the limelight was likely to throw up and the uncertainty surrounding her relationship with Matt, she would worry about all that if they offered her the part. She composed an email to Fliss, wishing her a happy few days’ holiday in Rome, and asked her to put her name forward. As she pressed Send, she wondered where, if anywhere, this might lead.
She took a long, hot bath and washed her hair, before emerging from the bathroom feeling like a new woman after what had been a stressful day. As a treat, she decided to go along to Giovanni’s restaurant, even though it was still raining heavily. She didn’t have an umbrella, so she stretched her lightweight waterproof over her newly washed hair and made a run for it. The restaurant was packed, as the garden tables were out of commission due to the rain. Giovanni gave her a cheery greeting as she came in and she tried her best to shake herself dry.
‘Good evening. Here, let me take your jacket.’
‘Good evening, Giovanni. You’re busy tonight by the look of it.’
‘It’s the rain but, don’t worry, I’ll find you a space. Just yourself?’ She nodded. ‘Then, if you don’t mind sharing, I’ll put you with Father Gregorio.’ Seeing the expression on her face, his mouth curled into a grin. ‘He’s our local priest but, don’t worry, I promise you he’s good company. I’m sure he’ll be only too happy to have such a beautiful dinner companion.’ He pointed across the room to a table where an elderly cleric was sitting, clad in sober black robes. ‘Is that all right with you?’
Alice would have preferred a table on her own but almost anything was better than going back out into the rain, which had suddenly increased in strength to the extent that it sounded like a waterfall on the other side of the French windows. She followed Giovanni across to the old priest’s table and saw his face light up as he heard of her predicament. He immediately waved towards the seat opposite him and gave her a warm welcome.
‘Good evening, Signorina. What an unexpected pleasure to have a dinner companion.’ He extended a gnarled old hand across the table towards her. He spoke in a smooth musical tone and Alice was delighted to understand everything without any of the problems she sometimes encountered with the local Tuscan accent. He didn’t sound like a local and his enunciation was perfect. Of course, he was a priest and used to public speaking, after all.
‘Good evening, Father, thank you so much for letting me join you. I hope I’m not disturbing you.’ She studied him surreptitiously. He was probably in his late seventies, maybe even older, and he was completely bald; the light reflecting on his shiny pate reminded her of the halos that medieval painters loved to give to the saints and deities in their paintings. He had a gentle face, and his brown eyes were still bright and perceptive.
‘Congratulations on your Italian. I’m afraid my command of your language is next to zero. And what brings you here on an awful night like tonight?’ He stopped and corrected himself. ‘What am I saying? We’ve all been praying for this much-needed rain, and far be it from me to pour scorn on the Lord’s bounty.’
Alice repressed a smile. Listening to his melodious voice and his choice of vocabulary made her feel as though she had stepped back in time and she found herself reflecting upon the endless succession of priests whose shoes he was now filling. She wasn’t a religious person, but she loved the idea that he was the latest in an unbroken line quite probably stretching back to the Middle Ages. She didn’t mention Conrad or her acting background, but told him that she was here on holiday because she loved Tuscany. He nodded sagely.
‘It’s a wonderful area and I feel truly blessed to live in this village, which has been my life for over fifty years now. But you’re here on your own? Is that out of choice?’
Alice shook her head. ‘Not exactly. My boyfriend dropped out at the last minute but now that I’m here on my own, I’m quite happy.’
At that moment Giovanni arrived with a steaming dish of pasta, liberally laced with a rich meaty sauce, and deposited a heap onto Father Gregorio’s plate with a few skilful scoops of a spoon and fork held in his other hand. He then turned towards Alice to take her order. ‘And what can I bring you? Some pappardelle alla lepre as well?’
Alice had never been too keen on eating rabbit, and lepre was a hare, so she shook her head. ‘I think something light as a starter and then maybe some meat or fish? I’m hungry, but not really hungry enough for pasta. What do you suggest?’
At his suggestion she decided on a simple tomato, mozzarella and basil salad, followed by grilled calamari. She also ordered a bottle of Chianti Classico, determined to offer some to the friendly priest who, she noticed, only had a little quarter-litre carafe of anonymous red wine in front of him. It seemed like the least she could do after he had allowed her to share his table.
As Giovanni returned with the bottle and opened it, she looked across at Father Gregorio. ‘I wonder if you’d be kind enough to help me with my wine, Father. I certainly don’t want to drink a whole bottle by myself, so maybe you wouldn’t mind…?’
He smiled back at her. ‘If all my parishioners asked for that sort of help, I would be a happy priest – although it might add a bit too much spice to my sermons.’
They chatted throughout the meal and she genuinely enjoyed his company. She soon found herself talking about the events of the day – without naming names – and he quickly picked up on her internal confusion.
‘So, you say this woman whose life you saved was in fact your worst enemy?’
‘I don’t really have anything as radical as a worst enemy, but from a work point of view, she could be really difficult.’
‘And it bothers you that you saved her life?’
‘No, it’s not that it bothers me – in fact, I’m pleased I was able to help another human being. I’m just saying it’s a strange twist of fate that it had to be her.’
‘Life has a habit of doing that.
So, you don’t regret what you did?’
‘Not for a moment. Some things are more important than work.’
‘Absolutely. I commend you on a good deed. If more people did more such selfless acts, the world would be a better place. May I ask what work you do?’
Alice decided to leave out any reference to her earlier career, so she told him about her studies in art history and her specialisation in the art of the Renaissance. As she did so, she saw real interest on his face and, to her surprise, he raised his eyes to the heavens and kissed his fingers.
‘Truly the Lord works in mysterious ways.’ There was awe in his voice. He looked back at her again. ‘You see, I have a problem.’
To her fascination, he then went on to tell her what had recently happened in the village church. During renovations of a damp wall, the decorators had happened upon an ancient fresco partially concealed beneath a layer of flaking whitewash. Why it had been covered and by whom remained a mystery. Father Gregorio’s problem was that he knew what needed to be done next, but his poor parish just didn’t have the financial means to do it.
‘With just my bare hands, I’ve been able to wipe off much of the old whitewash and it’s clear to me that the fresco beneath is old, possibly very old. What I need is an expert who can verify if what we have is a treasure or just the doodling of a bored painter a hundred years ago.’
Alice smiled at him across the table. ‘I’m sure there are lots of experts better qualified than I am, but if you’d like me to take a look at it, Father Gregorio, I’d be delighted.’
‘You would? That would be simply splendid. Thank you so much.’
They arranged to meet at the church next morning at ten and, as he stood up to leave, he clasped her hand in both of his and murmured what might have been a blessing. ‘Thank you once more. Your kindness knows no bounds. Now, I wish you good night.’
‘Good night, Father, and thank you for letting me share your table. It’s been a pleasure.’
* * *
She received another pleasurable surprise as she was getting ready for bed. Her phone started ringing and, as it was a number she didn’t recognise, she answered cautiously.
‘Pronto.’
‘Alice, hi – it’s me, Matt.’
‘Matt, hi, it’s great to hear from you.’ And it was. ‘How was dinner?’
They chatted for almost half an hour. She discovered that his meetings had gone well, although by the end of the conversation she was still no closer to finding out what he did for a living. Dinner in the swanky restaurant had been fabulous, Rome was as spectacular as ever and his grandmother was in fine form once more. In return, she told him about the events of the day, from what had happened to Zoë – once again without naming names and without revealing her own Hollywood connections – to dining with Father Gregorio and news of the fresco. It was only at the very end of the conversation that he delivered the bad news.
‘I know you and I made plans for dinner on Friday, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to stay on for an extra couple of days. There’s a thing coming up on Saturday with another dinner that night, but I should be home on Sunday. Maybe we could meet up that evening?’
Doing her best to ignore the sudden wave of disappointment that she wasn’t, after all, going to see him sooner, she assured him that she understood, and they arranged to meet up on Sunday evening for drinks at her place and then go to the restaurant for dinner together. As she put the phone down, she gave a little sigh. It was almost as if some malignant force was keeping them apart. It was frustrating to say the least.
Chapter 24
When she woke up next morning, she found a message on her phone and it came from an unwelcome source.
Hi Alice. Am on my way back to Europe after making the biggest mistake of my life. I need to speak to you, to apologise for my behaviour, and I can meet you anywhere. Are you still in Tuscany? Just say the word. David x
The thing that annoyed her most of all was that little x. She lay in bed, staring at her phone for some minutes, before deciding upon the right response. After the way he had behaved, and since getting to know Matt better, she knew that her days with David were irrevocably over, so she decided to be brutally frank.
Don’t waste your time, David. You made your choice and you have to live with the consequences. I’ll be back in Bristol in ten days and I expect to find all your stuff cleared out of the flat by the time I get there. Enjoy the rest of your life. Alice
At ten o’clock she went across to the church and pushed the heavy old wooden door open. She found herself inside a classical Romanesque church, with the usual simple interior and the trademark rounded window arches. Although she wasn’t an expert in architectural styles, she felt sure this indicated that the little church had been built as long ago as the eleventh or twelfth centuries. Father Gregorio must have heard the door creak and he came down the aisle to greet her.
‘Good morning, good morning. Thank you so much for coming.’
‘Good morning, Father. I’m looking forward to seeing your discovery.’
Father Gregorio led her to a little side chapel, barely more than an alcove, and pointed to the back wall. Alice immediately spotted the fresco and went over to examine it. As he had told her, he had managed to rub away much of the flaking whitewash, exposing a faded, but still quite distinguishable, painting underneath. As she studied it, she caught her breath. There was no mistaking what she could see. It was a remarkably well-painted depiction of Noah and the ark, but what leapt out at her was the unnaturally large flag flying from the main mast. Even after the passage of so many centuries, it was clear to see it was a deep red colour with a diagonal blue stripe. She screwed up her eyes and leant closer. Were those little golden flecks on the stripe wasps? Could it be?
She took her time, deliberately stifling her enthusiasm until she had photographed it from all angles, and measured its height and width. Finally, she straightened up and turned back towards the priest, who was standing there, looking hopeful.
‘It’s beautiful, Father Gregorio. I love it. I’m pretty confident it’s ancient – maybe even medieval, but certainly many centuries old. If you like, I can get in touch with a good friend who works at the Uffizi. I’m sure she or one of her colleagues would be happy to come down and take a look at it for you.’
He beamed back at her. ‘That would be wonderful. You would be doing me a great favour.’
Then, as they slowly walked back towards the door, he said something totally unexpected. ‘I wonder if I could ask one more favour of you? Would you mind letting me take your photo? When I tell my niece that I’ve had Polly in my church, she’ll be amazed – and it might be prudent to have proof, in case she thinks I’m going senile.’
‘Polly? You recognised me?’ Truly, the reach of Pals – even five years after – was extraordinary if even a septuagenarian priest in the backwoods of Tuscany had recognised her. There was almost a look of embarrassment on his face, as he replied.
‘My tastes in television are all-embracing. I watch all sorts, from game shows to football matches, murder mysteries to nature documentaries. I also have a particularly soft spot for romantic comedy – please don’t ask me to explain or justify this; I fear it would take far too long. Suffice it to say that you’re in the presence of one of your greatest fans.’
Alice was genuinely flabbergasted and she happily posed alongside him for some selfies, first with his phone and then with hers. As she finally left the church, she felt remarkably cheerful. Sometimes, being recognised as Polly the flirt could have its upside.
The first thing she did upon arriving back home was to send an email to Teresa at the Uffizi, outlining what she had just seen at the church and attaching a couple of photos of the fresco. She asked if she or one of her colleagues might be able to come down and take a look at it for Father Gregorio and she hoped the answer would be yes.
That afternoon, her phone rang and she recognised the number of Conrad’s daughter, Tracey.
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br /> ‘Hi, Tracey, I was going to ring. What’s the news on Zoë?’
‘Hi, Alice, she’s home. We’ve just brought her back now, and she and my father would love it if you could come up to the villa around six for a drink. They both want to say thank you.’
‘She already thanked me but, of course, I’d be delighted.’
By the time Alice walked up to the villa, last night’s rain had already evaporated from the road surface, but the tracks through the vineyards and olive groves still looked pretty muddy so – keeping a wary eye open for paparazzi – she carried on to the main entrance and pressed the bell. Seconds later the gates swung open and she made her way up the gravel drive to the big house. After all the rain, the air was crystal clear and she could see right across to the distant Apennines. Matt’s tower on its promontory stood out crisply against the blue of the sky, and she felt a shiver of pleasurable anticipation at the thought that she would be with him again before too long.
At the villa everybody was out on the terrace, and she was welcomed with hugs and kisses from all sides as the family members came up to thank her for what she had done.
Shrugging off the thanks, she felt she had to set the record straight. ‘All I did was what anybody would have done. It’s just lucky I was there and it all worked out so well in the end. Paolo did all the important stuff.’
‘I’ll never forget what you did, Alice.’ Zoë came up to her and enveloped her in a warm hug. Alice was delighted to see her moving normally and looking far better than the last time she had set eyes on her in her hospital bed. As Zoë released her grip, she gave Alice a warm, genuine smile – for just about the first time in her life – and kissed her on the cheeks. ‘Truly, thank you.’
It was a most enjoyable evening, although Alice still couldn’t quite get her head round the change in demeanour from her former nemesis. She told them all about her visit to the church and the unexpectedly familiar flag in the fresco, and she saw a sparkle in Conrad’s eyes.
