by T A Williams
‘I thought you and Paul Taylor looked as if you were getting along very well. Pity he disappeared.’ The puzzled expression was back on Victoria’s face again. ‘I think he’s really rather handsome and I like him. I wonder why he doesn’t like me.’
‘Doesn’t like you?’ Katie managed to get a good bit of incredulity into her voice, even though the same thought had occurred to her various times the other evening and repeatedly during the course of the previous day. ‘He doesn’t know you. I’m sure he likes you. Whatever makes you think that?’
Victoria looked down at the remains of her breakfast. ‘I don’t know. I just got that impression.’ Her face cleared as a thought struck her. ‘Of course, maybe he was totally besotted by you and didn’t have eyes for anybody else. From the moment he laid eyes on you, he was smitten.’
‘Vicky, for crying out loud, nobody gets besotted or smitten these days. Stop trying to sound like something Jane Austen might have written. I don’t for one moment think that Paul Taylor took an immediate fancy to me. He’s a nice man, but I didn’t get the impression he was about to throw his cloak over any puddles for me. Besides, if was that keen on me, you’d have thought he would have stuck around, instead of legging it.’
‘Legging it means going off?’ Vicky was memorising the lesson. ‘And instead of smitten, I should have said he had the hots for you, shouldn’t I?’ She was looking proud of herself. ‘I’ll remember next time somebody has the hots for you.’ A thought occurred. ‘So what about besotted?’
‘Erm, besotted?’ Katie had to think about this one. ‘Sort of the same really. You could try “be mad about” or “have a crush on”. Anyway, I think it could take a while before he or anybody has the hots for me. And it could take even longer before I decide to have the hots for anybody.’ As Katie stood up, she wondered just how true that was. ‘I’m going up for a shower.’ Just at that moment, Victoria’s now ever-present phone bleeped. She glanced down at the screen and looked straight up again at Katie.
‘It’s a text from Tom.’
After the events at Paul Taylor’s party, Katie had almost forgotten about Victoria’s army officer. She stood with her hand on the door handle and waited while Victoria read the message. She looked up at Katie after a few seconds, her face a mixture of surprise, satisfaction and pride. ‘He wants to take me out for dinner tonight.’ There was a pause before she carried on. She was looking less sure of herself now. ‘What should I do?’
Katie gave it some thought. There was no doubt in her mind that Tom was by far the better option than the count, but she knew she couldn’t say that to Victoria. The lunch date with Ferrari-man was now set in stone, so Tom was going to have to wait. ‘Two different men in one day is maybe a little bit ambitious, don’t you think, Vicky? Why not go back to Tom and say you’d love to, but you’ve got a thing this evening?’
‘A thing?’
‘An appointment or something. It doesn’t matter and, anyway, it’s only a text. You don’t need to go into too much detail. Suggest tomorrow night.’ She did a brief calculation. One day seemed to resemble another over here, but she managed to work out that it was Monday today. ‘Say, why not Tuesday?’
‘That’s a good idea.’
Katie left her to it.
The Talk took place outside on the stone bench, overlooking Florence in the distance. For once, it was a clear day and the distant spires, towers and domes of the city were easily visible in the bright sunlight.
To Katie’s relief, it turned out that Victoria knew quite a lot more about sex than just avian and apiary reproduction. Having established, without things getting too uncomfortable, that she knew the mechanics of the process, Katie settled down to discuss the ethical and cultural side of things. In a nutshell, how far to go on a first and subsequent dates. Katie’s experience was not vast and she had reservations as to whether she was the most suitable counsellor for her friend. Nevertheless she did her best.
‘You remember when we were round at Tom’s place the other day you were talking about feeling it was a bit like the bull sniffing the cows and vice versa?’ Victoria nodded. ‘Well, think of it like this: you are the cow in the field and there will soon be an ever-increasing queue of bulls outside the gate whose only concern is to get inside your pants.’ The analogy of cows and knickers wasn’t terribly satisfactory, but she saw comprehension in Victoria’s eyes. ‘You are a particularly desirable target because you are beautiful, clever and, don’t let’s forget that you are very, very rich. It’s a heady combination even for the most reticent of young men.’
Gradually, with a number of embarrassed silences, they talked their way through this thorny subject. By the end, Katie knew that she had done her best. She was fairly confident that she had explained twenty-first century mores as well as she could, at least from her own point of view. As she kept repeating to Victoria, different people held different views. Some relationships moved at a faster pace than others. Ultimately, this was something Victoria would have to work out for herself, just as countless billions of women had done over the course of history. The main difference for Victoria was that she was doing this about ten years later than most of her contemporaries. Katie approached the end of the session with a feeling of considerable compassion for her. It wasn’t going to be easy.
She finished up with a quick foray into the intricacies of contraception and dangers of sexually transmitted infections. Katie sincerely hoped that Victoria would be careful, but, at least, she now knew all about it. It was gone eleven o’clock when she finally ground to a halt.
‘So, that’s all I can tell you. It’s up to you now.’
Victoria reached out and caught her hands in hers. ‘Thank you so very much, Katie. I’ve been desperately hoping we could talk about this stuff for ages, but I never had the courage to ask. You’ve been terrific.’
Katie smiled at her. ‘I taught sex education to teenagers for a couple of terms. I though that might help, but it didn’t. This talk today was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to go through. Anyway, like I say, you now know a bit more about it. I hope at least some of what I’ve told you helps.’
Victoria leant over and kissed her on the cheek, looking genuinely grateful. She went off to get changed, ready for her date with the count. Katie sat there for a while, relaxing after her ordeal. She was roused by the arrival of a familiar shape.
‘Hello, dog. Fancy a walk?’ Curiously, although she was speaking in English, the dog started wagging his tail. Maybe some words didn’t need translation.
She stood up and, together, they headed off. This time she followed a different footpath though the olive trees. It was a long, winding path that climbed steadily for almost half an hour. This brought them out onto the dirt road quite near the top of the hill. She was sweating by the time they got there. She turned gratefully downhill and headed back down, towards the villa where she had met Paul Taylor two days earlier.
As she walked down the hill, feeling increasingly hot in the noonday sun, she spared a thought for Martin back home in England. They had spoken the other night and he claimed to be missing her. She had told him she felt the same, but part of her knew she was already being seduced by Tuscany, the people, the scenery and maybe more. Martin was inextricably linked with England and she had no idea when she would be back there. To be totally honest, she currently had no desire to return, even for Martin. She and Victoria had only just arrived in Tuscany after all. No doubt it would be a good while before they set off for home again.
That raised the question of where exactly home was now. Before coming down to Devon, she had lived for most of her life in Dorset. Bournemouth was where her mother was, along with most of her friends, but it was also where Dean, her ex, continued to live and work. The idea of sharing a town with him had no appeal, so she had pretty much decided she needed a change of scene. She looked around at the lovely old gates of the villas she was passing, dotted here and there across the hillside. The idea of making a new life in I
taly had definite attraction. The time would come, probably sooner rather than later, when Victoria would decide she no longer needed the services of a mentor. Katie made up her mind that she would spend a day in Florence the following week, looking into employment prospects. She knew there were lots of English language schools there. Maybe adult education might prove to be a possible career path.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sight of an old Land Rover coming up the hill towards her. It looked very familiar. She ran a hand through her hair and stepped to the side of the road, the Labrador beside her. She gave a little wave and the Land Rover drew up beside them. The dog was the first to react. He stood up on his hind legs and greeted Paul through the window. Katie cleared her throat.
‘Working?’ As she looked into the cab, she could see the seat beside him covered in tubs of something chemical. ‘Pity you had to rush off the other night. You missed a good party.’
He patted the dog on the head and gave Katie a smile. ‘Hi, Katie. Yes, work again. The men are going to need these chemicals so I’m taking them across to them.’ He caught her eye. ‘I was very sorry to miss the party and to miss your company, but something came up.’
Katie suddenly realised she was staring at him a bit too intently so she took a step back and looked around. ‘Another fabulous day, isn’t it?’ As she said it, she groaned inwardly. The weather? She really couldn’t find anything better to talk about than the weather?
‘Beautiful.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Listen, Katie, there’s lots to talk about. I’ve got to rush off now, but how about you and Victoria come round to my place for a drink tomorrow evening?’
‘That would be lovely, thanks.’ Then Vicky’s date with Tom came to mind. ‘Oh, bugger, I’ve just remembered; Vicky’s invited out tomorrow. How about Wednesday?’
He thought quickly. ‘I’m pretty sure I’m tied up on Wednesday. Well, why don’t you come along for a drink tomorrow without Vicky? You can bring Dante as a chaperone if you like.’
She thought for a moment. She could think of worse ways to spend a Tuesday evening. She took a deep breath. ‘Well, yes, then, let’s do that. What sort of time?’
‘Six o’clock too early? My house is just down there.’ He pointed with his finger.
‘That’s great. See you tomorrow, Paul.’
He gave her a wave and drove off. She carried on walking down the hill, past the gates to his house. She found herself wondering just what he had meant when he had said there was lots to talk about. She also found herself looking forward to a few hours alone with him to get to know him better.
‘Ciao, bella!’ She and the dog turned as one. At first she couldn’t see who had called, then she spotted movement from a window and realised she had already reached Marco’s house. A figure emerged from the shadows and she recognised him. He was waving his hand in that typically Italian way, palm down, in a paddling motion, meaning “come here”. He confirmed this with another shout. ‘You look hot. Come in for a drink.’
She didn’t hesitate. She and the dog slipped in through a narrow side gate and Marco met them at the door of the house. He held out his arms and kissed her warmly on both cheeks, then turned his attention to the dog. ‘Ciao, Dante, it’s good to see you again.’
‘Hi, Marco. It’s good to see you too. Do you want a hand with the clear up after the party?’
He grinned at her. ‘Under no circumstances. You did quite enough on Saturday night. Come in, come in.’
‘Well if you’re sure.’ Marco led her along a spotless corridor to the rear of the house where the loggia was looking very tidy. She turned towards him. ‘Looks like you’ve already done it.’
‘Pretty much. I can’t stand mess.’ He pointed to a wicker sofa in the shade. ‘Take a seat. What can I get you to drink?’
‘Just water please, Marco. That’ll be fine. It’s too hot to drink anything else.’ He disappeared into the house and reappeared almost immediately with a bottle of mineral water, fresh from the fridge, two glasses and a bowl. He filled all three and set the bowl down beside the dog who dropped his mouth gratefully, noisily and messily into it.
They chatted for some time about all manner of things until the conversation came round to Paul Taylor. There was a lot Katie wanted to know about him and who better to ask than his old schoolboy pal? She decided to approach the subject cautiously.
‘I just saw Paul in his van. Pity he had to rush off the other night.’
‘Mmh yes, it was.’ Marco was giving nothing away. Katie tried digging.
‘You’ve known Paul for a long time, then?’
‘Since we were little boys. His father was in the British army. He was killed while Paul was still young and his mother moved back here and brought Paul up single-handed. She was a wonderful pianist and many of the local people were taught by her, me included. But it’s Paul you want to hear about, isn’t it?’ He subjected her to a searching stare. ‘Come on then, out with it. So what do you want to know about him?’ She reddened and blustered a bit, but he had her pegged. ‘Come on, tell me what it is you want to know.’ There was a moment’s hesitation and then he hit the nail firmly on the head. ‘He’s the same age as me, if that helps. That’s thirty-six, although I know I look a whole lot younger.’ He ran his manicured fingers through his perfect hair. ‘I bet you’d be interested to know about the women in his life.’
‘No, of course not. Well, at least, only if you insist…’
He grinned. ‘Well, the answer is there have hardly been any. You see, he works all the hours that God gives. He never stops.’ Marco’s expression became more serious. ‘I think his mother got some sort of pension after the death of her husband, but he never had much money growing up. He was sent off to school in the UK, paid for by the army, but I know it took pretty much all of their savings to get him through university. You know he went to Cambridge?’
Katie was impressed. She caught Marco’s eye and he nodded.
‘He’s a brainy boy, you know. And his company, you know, the olive company, has grown and grown. But he spends all his time working.’ He gave her a smile as he reached the part that he knew really interested her. ‘So, women… Well, he and Loretta had a thing when he first came back from England.’ Katie remembered Loretta from the other evening; long hair, big boobs and dripping with gold. ‘That was on and off for a couple of months and then they broke up. After that there were a few others, but none for long. He works too hard, that’s his trouble.’ He paused for thought. ‘Of course, he is devilishly handsome after all.’ Seeing the look on her face, he continued. ‘And you can take it from me as a connoisseur of male beauty. I know what I’m talking about.’
‘Well, if you say so.’ Katie grinned back at him.
‘But, apart from the work thing, I’m not sure what it is, but I think he’s always had a fear of relationships. I haven’t ever seen him with anybody for long. So, you see, there’s no opposition. He’s all yours!’ He beamed at her.
‘And what makes you think I want him?’
‘Of course you want him. You all want him. Loretta would have him back in a flash if he were willing. They all love Paul. I love him myself but, unfortunately, he loves me in a different way. Anyway, I saw the two of you together the other night. You look good together. But just don’t blame me if it only lasts a week or two.’
He gave her another careful stare. ‘Or is there somebody else?’ As the idea took shape, he mulled it over. ‘After all, you’re a very pretty girl. No, really, you are; there’s no use denying it. You must have other men in your life.’ His expression hardened. ‘Just do something for me, Katie; don’t hurt Paul. I love him like a brother. I would hate to see him hurt. He’s been through a lot you know, especially with what happened to his mother.’
Katie nodded, remembering what Rosina had told her. ‘It was cancer, wasn’t it?’
Marco hesitated and then decided he should give her the full story. ‘Yes, it was cancer that killed her in the end, but it was caused by
a broken heart.’
‘A broken heart? Who broke it?’
Marco glanced out of the window, Katie followed his gaze and could just make out the dovecot on the roof of their villa. She looked across at Marco. His eyes remained glued on the villa. ‘That old bastard Chalker-Pyne. Stronzo!’
‘Victoria’s father? He broke her heart?’ Katie was astounded. ‘But how?’
‘They had an affair. It lasted for years and years. His wife had died, her husband had died. It all seemed to make a lot of sense.’ He looked across at Katie. ‘She was a very beautiful woman. One of the most beautiful women I’ve ever met. She became his mistress, living in her own house, but moving in with him when he came over to the villa. But he never took her back to England, even when Paul was studying over there. The relationship was just here. And then, one day, he told her he had no further use for her and he dumped her, just like that. He never came back to the villa and she never saw him again. It broke her heart.’
‘And then she got cancer and died.’ Katie was appalled. She sat back and took a mouthful of water, but then she started putting two and two together. ‘Wait a minute, but so did he. Victoria’s father also died of cancer.’
Marco nodded. ‘We only worked that out a few months ago when we got word of his death. It seems he was diagnosed with cancer way back then and decided he didn’t want her to suffer for him. So he just left her with no explanation. If he’d told her, she would have been upset, but at least there would’ve been a reason she could understand.’
