“You have to milk them?”
“The milking is finished,” he said, taking her arm. “That’s an early morning task. I want to make sure they have their food.”
While Lorenzo worked on the cows, Genie took the opportunity to wander around the barn and explore the finer points that were obscured by the darkness - and her exhaustion - the previous night.
As oddly familiar 'barnmarks' revealed themselves, memories of the events that brought her here, smothered her with a blanket of emotional and physical tiredness. Passing up on bed may not have been a good idea after all.
Nevertheless, she had made a different kind of bed and, although she began to wilt, she decided to persevere with her tour of inspection.
The chickens cluck-clucked when she came too close, waddling away, wagging their tail feathers in disgust. “You can make all the noise you want now,” she told them. “He knows I’m here.”
“So now you are talking to chickens.” Lorenzo said, appearing by her side,
“This isn’t my day, is it?”
He was close enough for Genie to drink in his cologne. She couldn’t name it, but she knew that was now imprinted on her memory. A month, maybe longer for the snow to melt, he’d said. A month or more of Lorenzo and his cologne?
It was more than a girl could bear.
“Aren’t they fabulous?”
“You’re not going to let that go, are you?”
“How could I? It’s not every day someone calls me fabulous.”
“Or the chickens.”
“Ah, si. The chickens.”
“And speaking of chicken...” Genie quickly latched on to a new conversational direction. “...have you always lived here, with your chicken friends, Lorenzo?”
He hesitated and Genie realized, from the way his expression darkened, that she may have hit a sensitive spot. It really wasn’t her day.
“It wasn’t always so,” he said, slowly. He appeared to go through a working-up process to put something into words he did not welcome.
“I’m so sorry, Lorenzo,” Genie said. “I didn’t mean to pry. Please forget I asked.”
He waved his hand dismissively. “No, no. Sta bene...sorry...It’s okay. We always liked the idea of a small farm.”
Genie felt a jolt when she heard the ‘we’. His wife, or ex-wife, still seemed to be on the agenda. Her heart sunk under a wave of disappointment. Maybe Signora Calderone was just trapped outside. Then, when the thaw comes, they will pass each other like they used to exchange spies during the Cold War.
At least, that’s how they did it in the movies.
Genie opened her mouth to ask about the other half of the ‘we‘, but Lorenzo filled it with his words.
“We wanted some degree of isolation too,” he shrugged. “Now, here we are.”
Did this ‘we’ mean wife and Lorenzo, or Genie and Lorenzo?
Genie decided to adopt the latter. She liked the idea better.
He straightened his shoulders as though shrugging off the mood. “Things have changed now, though. It was peaceful here - then we had a terremoto.”
Genie glanced down to check out the ground. “You have earthquakes here?” This was an adventure she could do without.
“Of a sort. It happened this morning caused by an eruption of a scruffy looking creature.” He flipped his arms upwards in an expanding arc.
Genie laughed. “Lorenzo.”
“The shock was so great, Domino and I had to hold onto something.”
“I do have that effect.”
“Now, the terremoto will remain until the snow melts...calling me fabulous.”
“Lorenzo!”
“What next, I wonder?”
“Wonder away, because I’m going to think twice about throwing out compliments.”
He made a mock, deep sigh. “I will try to be strong until the next one.” He blessed her with a brave smile that raised havoc with Genie’s insides and thought processes. She wondered what damage all these smiles were doing to her internal organs.
Would she survive until the thaw?
“Now, where shall we go next?” he asked.
The thought of wandering around Lorenzo’s estate, as small as it appeared to be, flushed out the last vestiges of her energy through her feet.
“Bed,” she said.
Lorenzo’s eyebrows almost hit the roof of the barn.
“That is to say,” she quickly added, “I’m going to bed...by myself...not we...I mean...” She mentally kicked herself for gabbling.
“I think I understand,” Lorenzo said, feigning a thoughtful expression.
“I’m really tired.” Reluctantly, she backed away, willing her feet to keep on working for the short walk to the bed. She wasn’t sure whether to say “Good night.” Seemed silly, really. It was still morning. “Just an hour,” she said as a compromise. She flashed a smile. “Get my strength back.”
“Good.”
“See you later, then.”
“Certo.”
“Certo,” Genie whispered.
Chapter Six
Genie drifted out of a near-comatose sleep.
As her senses slowly resurrected themselves she became conscious of the faint clatter of pots and pans. She struggled to make sense of who could be in her kitchen. Had her mother come to take over again?
She prised open her eyes and blinked her vision into sharpness.
“This isn't my room. Where..?”
Memory kicked in and blew away the clouds of confusion.
“This is Lorenzo’s room - or one of them, anyway.” She shook away the cobwebs. “And that’s Lorenzo clattering about in the kitchen.”
She rolled out of bed and indulged in a quick shower. Since that brought the rest of her back to life, she wondered if she had enough sleep left in her to be able to turn it on again later. “We'll see when the time comes,” she said and trotted down the stairs.
When Genie burst on the scene, she found Lorenzo busy stirring a sauce on the cob. He was accompanied by a vitally attentive Domino. Food was in the offing and it needed his close attention.
“Lunch already?” she said.
“Lunch? No, Lunch is finished.” He pointed at a bubbling sauce on the range. “This is dinner.”
“Dinner? You mean evening dinner?”
“I was coming to wake you.”
“Dinner. I can't believe it. Have I slept that long?”
“You needed much sleep, I think.”
“How awful. I am sorry.”
“For sleeping?” He laughed. “What do you think, Domino? Shall we accept her apology?”
It appeared that Domino's trance, induced by the aroma and sight of food, was too deep. He gave no sign of hearing Lorenzo and made no effort to respond.
“Come, Genie,” he said. “Your appetite is still very much eager to be satisfied, vero?”
“Very much. Vero.”
“Then, let us eat.” He set about making the final preparations for the feast.
If Genie had any doubts about her capacity to re-engage sleep that night, it was dispelled by Lorenzo's culinary efforts.
The meal consisted of baked macaroni to start, followed by beef cooked in a spicy sauce in the company of broccoli and potatoes, followed by a portion of almond tart, followed by an espresso, and intermittently enhanced with a glass or two of Lorenzo's home-made wine. All this residing heavily in her stomach was sufficient to bring on drowsiness right there, at the table. Indeed, she had to stifle a yawn several times.
“Your cooking skills put mine to shame,” Lorenzo. That was a lovely meal. Thank you.”
“It was a mix of Italian and English style,” Lorenzo gestured with both hands, palms up. “Because you are English...”
“I am flattered. Thank you, Lorenzo. But there's no need to worry. I've grown fond of Italian food over the last few weeks.”
Together, they set about clearing away the devastation typical of the creation of such a sumptuous meal.
“Now I must go out
,” Lorenzo said once the kitchen had been returned to its pristine condition. “Make sure everything is good.”
“I'll come with you,” Genie offered. “Take some night air.”
“No. No. Stay here.” He shrugged his thermal jacket over his shoulders. “It's very cold and I must walk around the fence, too. I heard wolves this evening--
“Wolves? My God? Are they close by?”
“I don’t think so,” he said. “If they are, it does not matter. It is very difficult to get through my fence. So you do not worry, I will leave Domino with you.”
Left on her own, Genie's imagination delivered images of a giant wolf, drooling at the potential meal before him, with glaring red eyes hypnotizing her into immobility. The image in her mind was so vivid she felt a cold knot of fear in her stomach. She moved closer to Domino for protection. “I think I prefer the wolves of the London. I can handle those.” She peered at Domino. “Are you any good with Lorenzo's wolves, Dom?
He wagged his tail and snuffled.
“Good, then stick close - just in case.”
This was new - palling up with a dog. “Fear makes strange bedfellows.”
Domino emitted a sound that was a cross between a weak bark and a sigh.
“Oh no you don't, Domino Calderone. Don't take the bedfellows bit seriously. I was speaking metaphorically. No bed for you. Bed for me only...and now I'm talking to a dog.”
Shaking her head in despair, she ambled into the lounge with Domino trotting close behind. To give herself something to do, she placed two more logs on the fire in the walk-in stone fireplace.
It appeared that Domino was a fan of log fires. He almost scooped Genie off her feet in his quest to get as close as he dare without bursting into flames.
“A long time since I’ve seen a real fire, Dom,” she said, flopping down on the beige, leather ‘L-shaped sofa unit. “Don’t have them at home. Clean air and all that.” She shook her head. “I’m talking to a dog again. Almost as bad as talking to chickens. Worse.”
She lifted her feet from the floor and stretched out. “This thing is huge. Bet you could get four people sitting here at the same time. Probably you too, Dom.” She sat up and surveyed the size once more. “A little over the top for one guy and his dog. But, then again, you Italians liked ‘big’, don’t you Dom?”
Jumping to her feet, she shuffled sideways to avoid stepping on Domino and gently eased herself onto the recliner. She jigged it back and forth a couple of times to test it out. “Excellent.”
Further investigation revealed the absence of a TV. “What do you too guys do in your spare time, Dom?”
Receiving no reaction from Domino at all, Genie launched herself out of the recliner. “I’ll bet if a wolf came in here, you wouldn’t even move.” She crossed the room to the picture window. “Fine protector you are.”
Peering out, she expected to see more snow-covered mountains towering above the house, glowing white under the moon. Instead, all she could see was the night sky and a distant mountainous skyline.
A faint glow filled the intervening gap.
Genie rested her forehead on the window and blocked out the room light by cupping her hands each side of her eyes. Way down below, she could see the lights of a village or town.
“This place is built on the edge of a cliff,” she said, stepping back. “Is it safe, I wonder?”
“Quite safe,” Lorenzo offered.
Genie spun around. “Don't creep up on me like that, Lorenzo. You almost gave me a heart attack.”
“Mi dispiace.”
His grin caught Genie's breath and held onto it for several seconds. “Your house...it's on a cliff. That's scary.”
“You should see the view in daylight. It will take your breath away.”
“Hmm.” You’ve already done that all by yourself. “Come to think about it, I suppose I should have realized.” She recalled the hard climb, with the windscreen wipers fighting a losing battle against the build-up of snow. The blizzard seemed to grow even more violent the higher she drove. “The road up here is devilishly steep.” Then the sharp curve, followed by a bone-jarring thump. Hello ditch.
“So, down there - that town--”
“San Rafaele delle Montagne.”
“That's a mouthful and a half.”
“No one says 'delle Montagne' - except the tourists who come for the skiing.”
“I think I'm going to side with the locals.”
Lorenzo crossed to the fire, stoked it and added another log. Sitting down on the couch, he asked, “Is that why you have come here in winter, Genie – to ski?”
“Heavens no. I can't see myself struggling to the top of a mountain, risking my life skiing down it, and then struggling back up again.” She chose the recliner, kicked off her shoes, lifted and folded her legs so they join her.
“Forse, you have some other reason?” Lorenzo said.
“Perhaps...” Genie hid her discomfort well. She had always avoided talking about herself. It made her feel uncomfortable, even among her friends. However, Lorenzo's search for answers was reasonable. Given her intrusion into his privacy, she owed him some sort of explanation. “I...I just wanted to get away for a while,” she said. “Wander around Europe. See the sights. Have a bit of an adventure.”
“So, now your adventure has been interrupted. You crashed your car and you are trapped here. You must wait to continue your adventure.
“Oh, I don't know, Lorenzo. I'm a city girl born and bred. Living on a farm is new to me. That can count as an adventure...sort of.”
“Of course. And in your city--”
“London.”
He acknowledged her with a slow dip of his head. “In your London, do you have work?”
Here we go. He’s prised open the lid of the can is open now and he’ll go on scooping out its contents. She will have to find answers. Answer the safe ones; hedge on the dangerous ones. That’s the plan.
“I'm a freelance photographer,” she said. That was easy. The truth always was.
“Vero? You have photographs in magazines?
“Some."
Lorenzo narrowed his eyes. “You did not want to be a freelance photographer in Italy?”
Genie wrinkled her forehead and gave a brief nod. “Well...yes.”
“But you do not have your camera. Did it remain in your car?” His expression was one of concern. “Will the cold not affect it?”
He’s a regular Sherlock Holmes, this Italian farmer. What clue’s he going to pick on next?
Genie hesitated, flipping ‘Yes/No’ thoughts. Should she tell him? It’s pretty certain Lorenzo isn’t in cahoots with those others. So, why shouldn’t she tell him? There’s no logical reason.
'Yes' won.
“My camera was stolen,”
Lorenzo jerked upright. “Stolen? How?”
“I was attacked on the road,” Genie said.
Chapter Seven
“Genie, che terribile,” Lorenzo said. “You must tell me what happened.”
A knot started to grow in her throat as the memories of her experience formed in vivid detail.
“It happened the same night I took up residence in your barn. I was hiding from them.”
“Dove - scusi...where were you attacked?”
“Not far from here.” She pressed her hand to her chest to contain a heart flutter that came with the memories. Up until now, she had managed to repress them. The security of Lorenzo’s avalanche-bound farm helped her to keep them at bay.
Now that the can had been opened, the desire to tell was overwhelming. She rubbed her hands on her thighs to help her to focus.
“I’ve never been so scared in my life.”
As if that was the trigger she needed, the story spilled out into the open.
“I stopped to help someone who was supposed to be injured. When I got out of my car to see if he was still alive, another man grabbed me from behind.” She thrust out her hands in a throwing gesture. “He pushed me to the ground.�
�
“Were you hurt?”
Genie shook her head. “I was too frightened to notice at the time.” She raised a flicker of a smile. “I haven’t found any bruises since. So I mustn’t have been.”
Sighing deeply, she continued. “The so-called body on the road was very much alive. He pointed a gun at me and told me to stay where I was while the other man ransacked my car. That’s where my camera is. They have it - as well as my money, my passport, credit cards, and anything else of value he could lay his hands on. He even threw all my clothes on the ground.”
“I didn’t know what to do,” she said, benign forward into a half-foetal position and hugged her arms close to her body. “I thought they were going to kill me.” She brushed at her eyes as her tear ducts threatened to overflow.
“Tell me about the men who attacked you.” Lorenzo said. “What did they look like?”
Genie paused and consulted her memories. “One was built like an all-in wrestler, and the other was quite small. The small man was the one who frightened me most.” She re-examined him in her mind. “He didn’t even need his gun to scare me. Something about him...”
Lorenzo looked thoughtful for a moment and then said, “What happened after that, Genie?”
Genie’s tears bubbled to the surface. She rubbed at the wetness around her eyes. “I’m sorry, Lorenzo. I’m being a proper baby.”
“No. Do not be sorry. You were in danger. Crying is permitted when you have been in danger.”
Genie sniffed and rummaged a tissue from her sleeve to head off one of life’s irritating natural functions that follow the flow of tears. She dabbed at her nose.
“I didn’t cry then. How funny. Only now...
Silence fell, broken only by the crackling of the logs.
“I could see that they wanted my car too,” Genie ventured. “It’s a Mercedes. They could’ve got a lot of money for it.”
“Certo.”
“They had everything else,” Genie said. “I decided they weren’t going to get my car.” She described how she crawled to her car while the thieves were examining their loot. “I shut the door as quietly as I could, but they heard it and came running. I managed to lock and deadbolt the door. At least they couldn’t get in.”
Runaway Love Page 4
