by Daisy James
If she’d achieved nothing else from her stay at Villa Limoncello, her patisserie skills had taken a huge leap up the league table and she knew she would never again return to her previous diet of endless cups of coffee and buttered toast – not when it was just as easy to whip up a fragrant herby omelette or drop a handful of pasta in a pan of boiling water before drenching it with extra virgin olive oil and a few fresh basil leaves.
She showered quickly and ran downstairs, then came to an abrupt halt at the kitchen door.
‘Oh…’
‘Oops, sorry, Izzie,’ laughed Phoebe, extricating herself from Dylan’s embrace as they sat at the kitchen table, their coffees forgotten whilst they continued to get to know each other better.
Izzie grinned when she saw the look of complete adoration on Dylan’s handsome face.
‘Is Carlotta coming over this morning?’
‘No, she isn’t, I’m afraid. She gone to Venice with Vincenzo.’
‘Oh, that’s a shame. I really wanted to tell her how grateful I am.’
‘Grateful?’
‘That she sprinkled some of her stardust on us,’ laughed Dylan, unashamed of his belief in the magic of her matchmaking skills as he took Phoebe’s hand, kissed her palm, and then laced his fingers through hers.
Izzie beamed as she fixed herself a coffee, her own sadness at the deterioration in her friendship with Luca easing at the sight of the loved-up couple in front of her, both of whom deserved their chance at happiness after everything they had been through recently.
‘I’m sure she’ll be delighted, if not surprised,’ said Izzie, popping a plate of croissants, cannoli and fresh fruit on the table before taking a seat opposite Dylan.
Phoebe helped herself to two of the warm flaky pastries and filled them with Carlotta’s home-made apricot jam before biting into one of them, sending crumbs cascading to the table, a splodge of the jam oozing onto her lips. Dylan laughed, reaching up to wipe it away with his thumb whilst gazing into her eyes, a gesture so intimate that Izzie’s cheeks coloured.
‘This is an amazing place, Izzie. You’re very lucky to live here,’ said Phoebe, her face bright with first flush of romance that had come to visit so unexpectedly.
‘Oh, I…’
‘It’s not just Carlotta who’s sprinkled a little bit of fairy dust onto our lives. I think it’s the tranquillity, the laid-back ambience here at the villa, too. It’s the perfect environment to take stock of life, to contemplate what course the future could take if you make a few adjustments. Shall I tell Izzie or do you want to?’ asked Dylan, smiling at Phoebe as though they were the only two people in the world to have ever stumbled across love.
‘I’m resigning from Denby & Stainsworth.’
‘You are?’
That wasn’t what Izzie had expected Phoebe to say.
‘If they don’t know how to appreciate and reward the hard work and talent of their staff, then they don’t deserve to retain it,’ announced Dylan, loyally. ‘Anyway, it’s about time you pursued your dreams for once, not those of your family’s.’
‘That’s great news, Phoebe. What do you plan to do?’
‘I’m going to concentrate on my singing and song-writing, hopefully record an album which Dylan is going to produce, then go on tour with his brother’s band! I can’t tell you how excited I am – taking my music seriously has been a dream ever since I had my first piano lesson when I was five years old! Can I tell Izzie the rest, Dylan?’
Dylan nodded, but Izzie suspected he would have agreed to anything Phoebe proposed.
‘No, actually, I think you should tell her, it’s your idea, not mine. Go on!’
Despite Dylan’s mood of overwhelming joy, Izzie saw a flash of discomfort float across his face, but he tore his gaze from Phoebe’s and met Izzie’s eyes, a slightly embarrassed smile tugging at his lips.
‘I’ve already told you that I sold my business before I came out here. At the time it was a very difficult decision because I’d built it up from scratch over the years when I had to be at home to support Jack and Martha, and escaping into my computer screen after they were safely tucked up in bed was the only thing that kept me connected to the outside world, connected with fellow musicians and would-be music producers.’
Dylan reached out to take a sip of his coffee. ‘When the CEO of a high-profile media company approached me to sell, I refused, but within hours he had doubled his offer, a figure which absolutely floored me. I mean, two million pounds is a lot of money and it will see Jack and Martha through university, help to launch my brother’s band and support the tour, and…’ He paused to look at Phoebe. ‘I can help Phoebe get her finances back on track.’
‘Two million pounds…’ stuttered Izzie, not sure whether she had heard right.
She’d had no idea, but then, why should she? The money had obviously not changed Dylan from the warm-hearted, laid-back, music-loving individual he clearly was and she suspected it never would, especially as he seemed intent on using it to help others rather than squander it on himself. However, she did wonder why it had been such a secret.
‘Is there a reason you didn’t tell anyone?’
‘I’m a boring old IT teacher at the local high school. Can you imagine the hoo-ha, not just from the students but in the staff room? A millionaire teaching class? It’d be completely untenable for all sorts of reasons, and I love what I do, I love seeing that look of realisation on a student’s face when they suddenly understand a tricky concept or get a piece of coding spot-on. The world needs more computer scientists and I want to do my bit to inspire those that are interested to pursue that career path.’
‘And Nick was going to spoil it all!’ added Phoebe.
‘How did he find out?’
‘Archie blabbed about it one night after choir practice and Nick thought he’d use it to persuade me to take the rehearsals more seriously. Oh, I don’t think he would go as far as to blabber to the other teachers, but I was angry that he thought it was okay to threaten me with it.’
‘Two million pounds is an awful lot of money…’
‘I know, even now I can’t believe that money is sitting in my account, like a sleeping lion ready to pounce,’ Dylan muttered as though in a daze, or inhabiting a parallel universe where life could hand out golden tickets instead of wooden spoons. ‘Please don’t say anything to the others, will you? I didn’t plan on telling anyone else apart from Archie and Nick, but I also never expected, well, to get together with the most wonderful woman I ever laid eyes on.’
Colour flooded Phoebe’s cheeks and she leaned forward to place a soft kiss on Dylan’s lips, reminding Izzie that she was superfluous to requirements. She quietly excused herself and took her coffee out to the terrace where the sun was starting to peek over the horizon and flood the valley with a gauze of gilded light.
As she took her daily stroll around the garden, the early morning dew glistening on the leaves, her spirits climbed. She marvelled at the way life could toss grenades one moment, then deliver overwhelming bounty the next. The trick was to realise that everything was transient, that no matter what happened, one thing was certain: time would march on; the warm velvety sunshine of summer would morph into the sharp crisp air of winter; grief would abate and become acceptance, then gratitude, and finally, hopefully, contentment would follow.
She paused to pick a sprig of rosemary from the straggly bush that flanked the steps of the gazebo and inhaled the woody fragrance, dropping down onto the top step to reflect on the things she had witnessed over the past week during the Snowflakes & Christmas Cakes course.
She thought of Sofia and how she had flourished during her week-long stay in Tuscany, her cooking and crafting skills improved greatly, even if she hadn’t got over her aversion of spending even a few minutes alone with Nick.
She smiled at Jennie’s new-found fame and exuberance after her secret had been revealed which, instead of the embarrassment she had feared, had caused great excitement amongst her frien
ds, who had bombarded her with questions, and Sofia and Phoebe had made a promise to take her to a show when they got back home.
She looked over her shoulder to see Dylan and Phoebe, their secrets now shared too, take a seat beneath the pergola to enjoy their final breakfast at the villa in the open air, chatting away about their plans for their future, giggling as they got to know each other better. Dylan was right: Villa Limoncello was truly a place where hearts could heal and happiness could blossom.
But there was still one thing that continued to nag at her brain with the tenacity of a rabid Rottweiler. Which one of Villa Limoncello’s guests had felt so strongly about Nick’s interference in their lives that they had decided to give that geranium-filled plant pot a nudge southwards? And, when that hadn’t had the desired effect, had that same person tossed a glass of red wine over his prized white dinner jacket?
And if so, who?
Chapter Twenty-Three
The kitchen, Villa Limoncello
Colour: Creamy white chocolate
Izzie returned to the kitchen and made a start on preparing the seven sets of ingredients for Luca’s Christmas tiramisu and her limoncello swiss roll which she was going to cover in white chocolate. Before she knew it, Nick and Jennie had arrived to grab a coffee and it was ten o’clock. The only person not to join in with the festive spirit that morning was Sofia, who actually looked like someone had told her that Christmas had been cancelled. Dark smudges circled her eyes and her complexion was ashen, but before Izzie could ask her what was wrong, Luca arrived.
‘Buongiorno a tutti!’
‘Buongiorno,’ chorused Dylan and Phoebe, following Luca into the kitchen, grabbing their personalised Villa Limoncello aprons for the last time and taking their places alongside the others for what could be the final cookery class ever to be held at the villa.
‘Okay, let’s get started!’
Izzie immediately noticed the lightness in his voice, that the smile he gave her no longer held a certain reticence but was filled with excitement at being where he wanted to be doing something he loved – presenting classes to enthusiastic students in his own kitchen. She returned the gesture, experiencing a somersault of attraction. That morning, instead of his white chef’s jacket, he had chosen to wear a Christmas jumper depicting a reindeer with a huge red pom-pom for a nose that made her giggle at the incongruous image of the habitually stylish Luca Castelotti. Gianni, yes, she could imagine him in any kind of quirky attire easily, but not Luca. However, the sweater did nothing to detract from Luca’s handsome features or his muscular figure as he stood at the head of the table demonstrating his grandmother’s tiramisu recipe.
‘We whip the mascarpone with the double cream and the icing sugar, so.’
Everyone copied his actions, with Phoebe playfully dotting a splodge of the creamy mixture on the tip of Dylan’s nose and giggling. Everyone rolled their eyes, but they were clearly happy to see the fledgling romance play out in front of them to the background tinkle of ‘Santa Baby’ whilst they assembled their individual tiramisus and put them in the fridge to set.
‘Ecco, we’ll take a short break and then Izzie will close the course with her delicious yule log that you can take home with you or nibble on the way,’ said Luca, removing his apron and hanging it on the back of the kitchen door.
‘Okay, everyone, why don’t you go out to the terrace and I’ll bring out the coffee and a few Tuscan treats. And don’t forget, you need to be packed and ready to leave for your lunch at Antonio’s at one o’clock, and there are taxis booked to take you to the airport from there at three.’
Everyone piled outside to indulge in the freshly ground coffee, accompanied by generous plates of cantucci and ricciarelli, whilst Izzie helped Luca tidy up in the kitchen.
‘Izzie…’
‘Luca…’
‘You first,’ said Izzie.
‘I think we need to talk about what—’
‘Izzie? I’ve left my luggage on the front steps. Do I have time for a trip down to the gazebo? I’d like to take a few more photographs of the villa and the surrounding area for a piece I’ve promised the local Yorkshire Gazette about the Somersby Singers,’ asked Nick, an old-fashioned Pentax camera slung around his neck.
‘Of course, there’s no rush.’ She smiled and watched him leave, humming an Italian aria. She was about to turn back to Luca to continue their conversation when she heard Jennie’s voice float towards them from the bottom of the stairs, filled with urgency.
‘You have to talk to him now! It’s your last chance!’
Izzie exchanged a glance with Luca, who shrugged his shoulders, filled his cup with espresso and indicated for her to follow him outside to the terrace. However, she hesitated. There had been something in Jennie’s tone that sent her senses into overdrive.
‘I can’t…’ came Sofia’s reply.
‘There’s no “can’t”. You just have to do it. Nothing can be worse than what you’ve dealt with already, and it’s the perfect place to face difficult conversations.’
‘Will you come with me?’
‘I’m here for you, Sofia, darling, but you have to do this yourself. It’s what you’ve been planning to do since Nick announced this trip to Tuscany, what you’ve spent hours rehearsing for. Don’t waste the chance or you’ll regret it. Once we get home, we’ll be caught up in a frenzy of festivities and you won’t have another opportunity to talk to him alone for a while. You need to do it now – it’s eating away at you.’
The two women appeared in the kitchen dragging their suitcases behind them, shock suffusing their faces as they realised that Izzie must have overheard everything they had said. She opened her mouth to apologise, to explain she hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but before she could speak, Jennie had linked her arm, and then Sofia’s, and was guiding them out of the kitchen door, across the terrace, and down the garden path.
‘Where are we going?’ asked Izzie as they approached the gazebo where Nick was snapping photographs of the Christmas tree decorations and the wreaths they had made.
Jennie ignore Izzie’s question, and when Izzie shot a glance at Sofia, expecting her to roll her eyes at her friend’s secret mission into the villa’s garden, to her utmost surprise she had a look of abject terror on her face, her slender body trembling despite the warmth of the midday sun.
‘Go on, darling,’ urged Jennie, pushing Sofia forward towards the gazebo steps, but the girl was clearly petrified.
‘Jennie, I don’t think…’
Izzie paused. She wasn’t sure what was going on but she was reluctant to ignore the fact that Sofia was obviously distressed. For the first time, she noticed that the young girl was clutching a piece of paper in her fist, and, as she continued to watch on, Sofia seemed to be overtaken by an ambient force and started to walk towards the gazebo, climbing to the dais one step at a time as though in a trance until she came to a standstill in front of Nick, staring up at him wordlessly.
‘Sofia? What’s wrong?’
Sofia remained motionless and Nick sought Jennie’s eyes over her shoulder before looking back at Sofia, who was now holding the document out for him to take.
‘What’s this?’
Jennie grabbed Izzie’s arm and guided her away from the gazebo to leave them to what looked like was going to be a very difficult conversation, but instead of walking back to the terrace to join the others, she led them towards the patio outside the limonaia and dropped down into one of the rattan chairs.
‘Jennie, what’s going on?’
‘It’s a bit of a delicate matter. I’ve no idea how the conversation is going to go, but it has to happen. It’s what Sofia wants, but it’s no surprise she got cold feet at the last minute and needed a little nudge along the way.’
‘But…’
‘And I can assure you, Izzie, that before we leave for our lunch at Antonio’s, Sofia will apologise to you and Luca.’
‘Apologise? Apologise for what?’
A buzzing sound e
rupted in Izzie’s pocket and she drew out her phone to glance at the screen. Meghan. She smiled, eager to chat to her friend, to find out what time she was arriving the next day with Jonti in tow, but she had to find out what was going on with Sofia and Nick. So she declined the call and slid her phone back into her pocket before turning back to Jennie.
Jennie sighed, her kind eyes softening.
‘Promise to listen to everything I’m about to tell you before asking questions?’
‘Jennie, what’s going—’
‘Promise?’
‘I promise, but…’
‘It was Sofia who accidentally nudged that flowerpot from the windowsill.’
‘Sofia?’
‘Yes. She was loitering on the landing, leaned out of the window to see if she could hear what you and Nick were talking about, leaned a bit too far and the pot fell. Thank God it missed you both otherwise… well, her talk with Nick might have been even trickier than it’s going to be.’
Izzie stared at Jennie for a moment, savouring the warm flood of relief as she realised that no one had been intent on hurting Nick. The falling flower pot fiasco and the red wine incident had been just a couple of unfortunate, unconnected incidents that she had added together and made a mystery out of.
‘But why didn’t she say something straight away – if it was an accident, I mean?’
‘I agree – and that’s what I told her, too. The poor girl was mortified, but she wasn’t ready to face Nick with the truth and she didn’t want to colour his impression of her as someone who had almost killed him, before she…’
Jennie paused, inhaled a deep breath and met Izzie’s eyes.
‘…before she told him that he’s her father.’
Izzie felt as if a firework had gone off inside her brain. She didn’t know what she’d been expecting Jennie to say, but of all the things in the world of revelations it wasn’t that!
