Three Days in Florence

by Chrissie Manby

  The questions that had arisen in her own mind.

  The answers she’d given herself.

  Then finding out that Neil was on his way.

  Kathy pinched the bridge of her nose and took a deep breath in and out. The thought of going downstairs and facing Henry and Carla filled her with something like dread. But she had to do it.

  Kathy did not know exactly what time Neil would arrive. He’d told Carla that he would be there ‘in the morning’ and that Kathy should be ready to go by lunchtime but she had not made a note of which flight. He hadn’t offered the information.

  ‘Seemed in a hurry to get off the phone,’ Carla said.

  Of course Kathy couldn’t text Neil for more clarity since she still didn’t have a phone. All she could do was wait at the house until he turned up.

  Kathy still couldn’t quite believe that Neil was coming out to Florence to fetch her, to be sure she caught her flight. She wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. Was he coming because he thought she was too stupid or incapable to get to the airport herself? Or was he coming because he wanted her to feel safe and loved? Had being engaged made him feel suddenly romantic? When they’d spoken on the phone over the past few days he’d seemed distant, disgruntled, almost angry with her that she was still in Italy while he was back in the UK, as though she’d planned the whole thing from the start.

  Playing for time, alone in Henry’s room, Kathy folded her clothes back into her case. The dress she had borrowed from Carla hung from the back of the door, like a costume for a play about a woman who’d run away to Italy and found true love. It was a dress for another woman. A woman running away from reality. Not one engaged to be married to a man she had loved for five years. Kathy gave the fabric a fond stroke. She wondered if she would ever find something so beautiful to wear again.

  Downstairs, the kitchen was busy. Ernesto was absent, though Roberta didn’t seem unduly worried.

  ‘He’ll be back again tomorrow. His football team had a big match yesterday evening. I have no doubt he was out celebrating until late.’

  Without Ernesto, all hands were on deck and Kathy quickly slotted into the team again. The first she saw of Henry was when she took a dish full of freshly scrambled egg out onto the guests’ terrace, overlooking the garden where – Kathy calculated – only around five hours ago, he had taken her hand and …

  Don’t think about it.

  Now they performed an elaborate dance to avoid bumping into one another as they juggled plates.

  ‘You go first,’ said Henry, conceding the gap between tables and stepping out of Kathy’s way. He didn’t meet her eyes as he did so. He had closed down to her again. Even when they were together in the kitchen and Roberta asked them both about how the previous day’s gig had gone, he was almost monosyllabic. ‘It went well.’

  Perhaps it was just that he had a hangover. Kathy’s head was still banging, and Henry had drunk more than she had. He didn’t hate her for what had happened in the garden. He probably couldn’t remember what had happened.

  Though, of course, he was right to distance himself a little if he did, as should she. Her fiancé would be arriving at any moment. Her fiancé … Kathy glanced at her ringless left hand.

  Kathy went out onto the terrace to collect the last of the plates and glasses. As she did so, she bumped into the young blogging couple, who still couldn’t keep their hands off each other, so deeply in love were they.

  ‘Excuse me,’ Jenny said to Kathy. ‘Can we borrow you for a moment? We’re leaving this morning, but before we go, we want a photograph with the garden behind us to send to our parents.’

  Kathy took Jenny’s phone, which was already set up to take a shot. All she had to do was point and press.

  ‘You see,’ Jenny continued, ‘we got engaged last night.’

  She stretched out her hand in Kathy’s direction, so that it dominated the phone screen. On the third finger of her left hand, a chip of diamond glittered proudly in the morning sun. Jenny stepped closer so that Kathy could take a proper look. Kathy held Jenny’s hand gently, just as the other women at Shelley and Dave’s wedding had done when she was given her own engagement ring. She bent nearer to see the ring properly. The diamond, which was the size of a lentil and cut into the shape of a heart, was set in a yellow gold band.

  ‘I picked it out myself,’ said the proud fiancé.

  ‘It’s exactly what I wanted,’ Jenny assured him, with a beaming smile that said she was telling the truth.

  ‘She’s got really delicate fingers,’ said Kyle, ‘which is lucky because I couldn’t afford anything bigger. I’ll get her something better when I’m promoted.’

  ‘You could have put an elastic band around my finger and I would have been happy. What matters is that we’re getting married, right?’

  Jenny looked to Kathy for back-up.

  ‘Absolutely right,’ Kathy agreed. She forced a bright smile. ‘Shall I take those pictures?’ She let Jenny’s hand go and moved back so that she could get both the happy couple in the frame. Once she’d taken a few decent shots she handed the phone back and grabbed a couple of plates to show that she was busy and couldn’t hang around talking about love all day.

  ‘Congratulations.’ She threw the word over her shoulder as she hurried back to the kitchen.

  The young lovers were too busy gazing at each other to notice that Kathy had rushed to get away.

  ‘So, they got engaged,’ said Carla. ‘Love’s young dream.’

  ‘I hope he’s got a good lawyer,’ Henry grumped.

  ‘They won’t need one.’ Carla was sure.

  ‘What time’s your fiancé coming, Kathy?’ Henry asked.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Kathy said. ‘Soon, I hope.’ It seemed like the right thing to say. How had they gone from sharing secrets to this staccato exchange?

  Faustino sounded the alarm as they were in the kitchen washing up. Before any of the human beings heard the sonorous tone of the doorbell that had announced centuries’ worth of visitors to the Casa Innocenti, Faustino was skidding across the parquet floor in his haste to see off this latest intruder. Henry went to answer the door.

  Chapter Forty-nine

  Just three days had passed since Kathy had last seen Neil as he disappeared through airport security with his children, yet somehow it seemed much, much longer. It was almost as though he belonged to a different lifetime. To see him step through the blue gate into the loggia at the Casa Innocenti was surreal. He didn’t belong there. He looked oddly unfamiliar, in his khaki trousers and the plain blue cotton shirt that was a total bugger to iron.

  He was shaking hands with Henry.

  ‘Neil Sherwin,’ he said. ‘You must be …’

  ‘Henry Innocenti. We’ve met before,’ Henry reminded him.

  ‘Have we?’

  ‘I played in the band at your brother’s wedding.’

  ‘Ah! So you did! You were on the keyboard. Great playing. I do remember you now. Pretty good rendition of “Yellow” you did back there. Anyway, thanks for looking after the little lady,’ he said. Then, when he saw Kathy: ‘Chicken Licken, there you are!’

  She wished he hadn’t used her nickname. At least, not at once.

  ‘So this is where you’ve been hiding. Not bad,’ he added, taking in the height of the loggia’s ceiling and the huge brass carriage lamp above his head. He turned his eyes to the view beyond the arches. ‘Is that your garden?’

  ‘No,’ said Henry. ‘Alas, our property stops at the wall.’

  ‘I see,’ said Neil, walking to the wall to get a better look. Faustino was still barking. Henry scooped the little dog up and gently muzzled him with his hand. Faustino’s wide eyes declared his disgust at the betrayal. How could he guard the family when no one let him bark? Henry tried putting him down again, only to have to grab him once more when he made a yapping, snarling beeline for the bottom of Neil’s trousers. Henry caught him just in time, lifting him up again so that his snapping jaws clamped around thin a
ir.

  ‘Dogs,’ said Neil, teasing Faustino with a poke to the nose. ‘Can’t live with them …’

  Once he’d had a good look at the garden, Neil came back to where Henry and Kathy were standing. He offered Kathy his cheek. She duly planted a kiss on it.

  ‘You must come inside and have some coffee,’ said Henry.

  ‘That sounds like an excellent idea. I had one hell of a journey to get here. The airport was a nightmare as usual. How half those idiots have passports, I don’t know. There should be a test. Then I got into a taxi driven by someone who was clearly out to rip me off.’

  ‘That’s unlikely,’ said Henry. ‘It’s a flat fee from the airport to the centre. There’s a sign in all the cars.’

  ‘Well, he made a real dog’s breakfast of getting me here, is all I can say. He went all round the houses. I swear we passed the end of this street three times.’

  ‘The one-way system can add time to a journey,’ Henry conceded.

  ‘So.’ Neil paused to admire the staircase. ‘This is all original, is it? The carving and the paintings and stuff?’

  ‘Yes. They’re original,’ said Henry.

  ‘Anyone important? The artist?’

  Kathy was glad that Neil was showing some interest in the house but she was braced for what might come next.

  ‘Must cost a bit to keep all this up.’

  Roberta was waiting at the top of the stairs, just as she had been when Kathy first arrived, dishevelled and shocked by the robbery, on Friday evening. She had taken off her apron, put on her best pearls and was her usual elegant self. She held out her hands to Neil. He stuck out his right hand to shake hers.

  ‘It’s lovely to meet you,’ she said, undeterred by the formality of the greeting. ‘We’ve heard so much about you.’

  ‘Have you?’ Neil looked at Kathy with a raised eyebrow. ‘All good, I hope.’

  ‘Of course. Come in. Sit down.’

  Henry was dispatched to the kitchen to bring out the coffee. Manu helped carry in biscuits. Carla shut Faustino in her bedroom, whence he could be heard complaining throughout Neil’s visit. Yap, yap, yap. And the occasional threatening growl.

  ‘It’s because you’re a man,’ Carla said. ‘Faustino is normally in charge here. He only really tolerates Henry and Manu.’

  ‘The little ones are the worst,’ said Neil. ‘Smaller the dog, snappier the temper. It’s probably because they think they need to keep barking to make sure nobody steps on them. You could hoover him up without noticing.’

  Manu looked horrified at the very idea.

  ‘Tell me about the house, Roberta,’ said Neil. ‘I’m assuming this used to be part of the main place. The Palazzo Innocenti?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Roberta. ‘It was the gatehouse.’

  ‘A very grand gatehouse.’

  ‘The Innocenti were a very grand family.’

  ‘That’s a lot to live up to,’ said Neil. ‘And, as I was saying, the upkeep must be pretty steep. Enough to keep you awake at night.’

  ‘Oh, no,’ said Roberta. ‘The house looks after us.’

  ‘We’re sorry you’re here on such a fleeting visit,’ said Carla, changing the subject. ‘Time for lunch and that’s about all before you fly home, I imagine.’

  ‘Oh, no,’ said Neil. ‘We’re not going back today.’

  ‘We aren’t?’ Kathy was surprised.

  ‘That’s right, Chicken. I had Melanie book us onto a flight tomorrow. You didn’t think I was just flying out here to pick you up and fly straight back on the same day. That would be crazy.’

  ‘Well, yes, but …’

  ‘I know I’ve got a lot going on at the office right now but sometimes you just have to say, “What the hell?”, right? Work can wait.’

  ‘Then you must have lunch with us,’ said Roberta.

  ‘No, no. I think we’ve prevailed upon your hospitality quite enough,’ said Neil. ‘I’m going to take Kathy out for lunch in the centre. Somewhere nice. But before I go, I wanted to give you this.’

  He opened his overnight bag and pulled out an envelope that was almost as thick as the one Kathy and Henry had been awarded at the party the previous night. ‘Who should I give it to?’

  Roberta visibly recoiled. ‘Really, Neil. It’s been our pleasure to have Kathy stay with us. Our family motto is Deus ope, manus mea.’

  Neil shook his head.

  ‘It means “God’s work through my hands”. Which translates as meaning we should help whenever we can. Which is all Carla did when she saw that Kathy had been robbed. If anything, we probably owe your fiancée a weekend’s wages after her time here. She’s been such a help to all of us.’

  ‘Come on,’ said Neil. ‘She can’t have done that much.’

  ‘Actually,’ said Carla. ‘She has. She won me a lot of business, by encouraging my boss at the boutique to stock my designs. I’m a dress designer,’ she added, by way of explanation.

  ‘And she saved the day by stepping into the kitchen on Saturday evening after the chef decided to go AWOL,’ said Roberta.

  ‘She helped me at the market,’ said Manu.

  ‘And she helped me too,’ said Henry.

  ‘She stood in for Henry’s usual singer,’ Carla explained.

  ‘You sang?’ Neil looked at Kathy in astonishment.

  ‘At a sixtieth birthday party.’

  ‘Now that I really didn’t expect to hear. I don’t suppose the guests expected to hear it either. Can you sing, Chicken? I didn’t know.’

  He did know. He must know. Kathy knew she’d told him about those long-ago school-choir days back when they were first together. When she’d still thought he was listening.

  ‘It wasn’t something I ever expected to do,’ Kathy admitted.

  ‘But she did it brilliantly,’ said Roberta.

  ‘You weren’t there.’ Kathy tried to be modest.

  ‘But she’s right,’ said Henry. ‘You did brilliantly. Your fiancée is a very talented woman, Neil.’

  Neil raised his eyebrows and tucked in his chin as if to say, ‘Really?’

  ‘Well, she still eats like a horse,’ he said. ‘So, please, take this money to cover her bodyweight in pasta. I’m sure she ate at least that much.’

  In an echo of the previous Thursday evening, after the proposal, Neil took the initiative and tucked the envelope into Henry’s top pocket. ‘Have a couple of days off busking,’ he said.

  Kathy felt her entire body and spirit cringe as Henry took the envelope from his pocket and put it on the table, flattening it out as he did so. His expression said it all. He was going to say something he couldn’t take back. Ever the diplomat, Carla jumped to the rescue, ‘Thank you, Neil. Manu has been saying that he’d like to learn to play the trumpet so we’ll put it towards getting him some lessons.’

  ‘Or some new games for my tablet,’ Manu suggested. His mother and grandmother’s faces told him ‘Little or no hope.’

  ‘Right. That sounds nice,’ said Neil. ‘Come on, Chicken. Let’s leave these good people to get on with their day.’

  While Neil and Kathy made their goodbyes, Manu disappeared. Where he’d gone to became clear moments later as Faustino came barrelling along the hallway, puffed up to his maximum circumference, teeth bared and snapping.

  ‘Faustino!’

  Four adults lunged for the dog as the dog lunged for the bottom of Neil’s trousers. Henry lifted the dog into the air just in time again so that his sharp white teeth snapped and closed on nothing.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ Henry said. ‘Faustino never does this.’

  ‘How did he get out?’ Carla asked rhetorically. They all knew how he’d got out.

  From the darkness of the corridor, Manu smirked.

  ‘You should get him muzzled,’ Neil suggested. ‘One day he’s going to go for a paying guest. Then you’ll have a real problem on your hands.’

  Henry carried Kathy’s suitcase to the bottom of the stairs and opened the door onto the street. After another
perfunctory goodbye, Neil set off towards the river, leaving Kathy to drag her own case. When she tried to tell him he’d set off in the wrong direction, he disagreed. They stood in the sun on the street corner for five minutes, while Neil waited for his iPhone map app to catch up with them.

  Chapter Fifty

  Neil had booked them into a hotel near the city’s central station. Kathy tried not to be disappointed as she followed him into the lobby of the huge grey building, which was decorated in the style of so many corporate hotels from London to Laos – an uninspiring mixture of cream and coffee tones. She knew that the most uninspiring façade could hide hidden beauty in this city – a secret garden or a courtyard with a tinkling fountain. Alas, it didn’t seem to be the case here.

  Their room was ready early. They went upstairs and padded along a corridor where the walls were actually lined with the same carpet as the floor. The windows of their bedroom looked out onto an inner courtyard, which was full of air-conditioning equipment.

  ‘Room with a view,’ Neil joked. The only view in the room was a faded reproduction of, incongruously, one of Turner’s paintings of the River Thames. ‘Still, it’s only for one night and we won’t be spending much time in here,’ Neil said.

  Over lunch in a nearby restaurant – a tourist trap that had a menu with photographs – the true story behind Neil’s sudden appearance in Florence came out.

  ‘You didn’t need to come to get me,’ said Kathy. ‘I would have been back by tonight.’

  ‘I know,’ said Neil. ‘But, as it happened, it’s turned out to be a very good thing, you getting yourself into such a mess.’

  Kathy was puzzled. Not least by the idea that she’d got herself into the mess.

  ‘I’m out here to meet a client from the Majestic Hotel Group.’

  It was based in New York, Kathy knew. Neil had acted for them on several finance deals. She’d heard all about them.

  ‘Since Florence is closer than New York, it made sense to have a face-to-face here. He’s in town looking at a number of properties. Old hotels that need fixing up. I should suggest he looks at the Casa Innocenti.’