by T A Williams
‘I don’t think any the worse of you, Deborah. What happened before you met Dario, or me for that matter, is your affair and your affair alone. Isabella’s fiancé, on the other hand, is a very different kettle of fish. He’s as bad in his way as that awful Rossellini man who attacked you.’
Debbie felt a rush of relief.
‘As for my son, I can’t speak for him, but if he feels the same way about you as you do about him, you needn’t worry. Like I say, what happened before you met is neither here nor there.’
‘And you wouldn’t mind if we got together?’
Flora grinned. ‘Deborah, I wouldn’t mind if you got married. All right, I know that’s all very premature, but honestly, like I said before, I can’t think of anybody better for Dario or, indeed, as a daughter-in-law.’
Debbie really hadn’t been expecting this.
‘But… you’re part of a noble family and I’m just a… nobody. Doesn’t that matter to you?’
Flora was still smiling. ‘That sort of thing doesn’t matter any more. Besides, Deborah, look at me. Do you think I’m of noble birth?’
Debbie had never really considered it.
‘I don’t know. I just assumed…’
‘Deborah, I was born into a very bourgeois family in a very bourgeois part of Turin. I lived there all through my childhood and I only came here to work when I finished university. When I met Enzo, I was selling homemade dresses off a stall in San Lorenzo market. I’m about as noble as Byron the dog.’ She stopped and corrected herself. ‘No, that’s wrong. Byron’s got a far more impressive pedigree than mine.’
‘So you really wouldn’t mind…?’ She didn’t have the chance to say more as a nurse arrived to inform Flora that she could go back in to see her husband.
‘Excellent. You come along with me, Deborah. I know Enzo will be pleased to see you.’
The nurse shook her head.
‘I’m sorry, Contessa, the specialist said only one visitor and not to stay for too long. Your husband needs as much rest as possible.’
‘Well, you go in, Deborah.’
Debbie patted her arm. ‘I wouldn’t dream of it. Go and be with your husband and please give him my love. As for me, I’m going for a long walk to clear my head.’
She kissed Flora goodbye and went back down the stairs. Outside, the sun had poked through the clouds, and the temperature, while still low, had at least risen a few degrees. She walked slowly back through the streets, attracted as a moth to flame to the Ponte Vecchio and the hillside above it. It was just after two o’clock when she walked in through the iron gate and sat down on her bench, secure against the arm of the bronze statue.
She pulled out her phone, thought about calling Dario, but decided to let him sleep after his broken night. Instead, she called Alice and recounted the events of the last twenty-four hours. Alice let her finish before giving her verdict.
‘Well, sounds like you’ve cracked it as far as the future mother-in-law’s concerned. I was having terrible trouble convincing Guy’s mum that I was going to make a suitable wife for her son, but then I discovered she likes chocolates. You know those handmade, terribly expensive Belgian ones you can buy in the posh shop down by the bridge? A few quid’s worth of those and she’s eating out of my hand – not the chocolates, you understand.’
‘The future mother-in-law is irrelevant if the future husband dumps me for being a slut, Al.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. He won’t mind a bit, I promise.’
‘I wish I were so sure.’
‘It’s all in the past. Trust me, Debs. He won’t mind.’
After the call ended, Debbie sat there, gripping the metal hand beside her, her eyes ranging out over the roofs of Florence to the hills beyond. She reflected on what Alice had said and what Flora had said and, for the first time, she dared to hope everything would work out fine, after all. She lost track of time and was miles away when the brass hand against her shoulders gave her an encouraging squeeze. Or so it seemed.
‘I was pretty sure I’d find you here.’
It was Dario.
She reached up towards him with both her hands and pulled him down, over the back of the bench, until he landed in her lap. As she did so, she discovered that he was holding a lead in his hand, on the end of which was a very excited black Labrador. As she silenced Dario’s mild protests with a long, lingering kiss, Byron charged round and jumped all over them, keen to join in. Finally she let Dario sit up and transferred her attention to the dog, petting him as he rolled happily on the ground at their feet. She glanced across at Dario.
‘I’m so sorry about your dad, but I saw your mum and she told me things are looking good for him.’
He nodded. ‘I’ve just been speaking to her and it sounds very positive. She asked me to take this monster out for a walk as he’s been cooped up at home.’ He caught her eye, suddenly serious. ‘She told me you’ve got something to say to me.’
Debbie dropped her eyes to the ground.
‘Yes, I have, and it isn’t going to be easy.’
‘Why, am I so scary?’
‘No, Dario, it’s not you. It’s me. It’s something I’ve done.’
‘Do you feel like talking in the car?’
‘Yes, of course, but why? Are we going somewhere?’
‘Can you spare a couple of hours?’
Debbie checked her watch and saw it was half past two.
‘I don’t need to be at the school until half past five or so. I’m teaching at six.’
‘Great. Byron needs some exercise and I’ve got a bit of planting to do if you feel like keeping me company. We can talk in the car.’
* * *
It was almost three by the time Polly the Panda bumped up the rough track to Dario’s house. It had taken Debbie until the outskirts of Florence to summon up the courage to begin to tell him, and she had told him everything, just as it had happened. Gradually, bit by bit, she had managed to recount the whole sad saga. It was difficult to judge his reaction, as she had been distracted by the repeated attempts by Byron to climb over the seatback into her lap, although she distinctly saw the muscles of Dario’s jaw tense as she revealed the identity of her lover last August. But she persevered and managed to tell him everything.
She finished her tale just as they reached their destination. He had said little or nothing, concentrating on driving and fending off the dog. When he finally drew up outside the house, he immediately went round and opened the boot. Byron leapt out excitedly and started barking for no apparent reason.
‘He always barks when he gets here. I think he’s saying hello to the place. Here, can you bring the spade, please?’
He picked up a plastic pot containing a plant and headed for the outcrop with the bench and the magnificent old rose. She followed him, taking heart from the smile on his face, but still unsure how he really felt. When they reached the bench, he wiped it with the sleeve of his jacket and invited her to sit down. He took a seat beside her and the dog charged back to them and positioned himself at their feet. They both gazed down on the splendour before them – a patchwork of olives and vines, with the roofs of Florence in the distance; the Tuscan countryside at its most beautiful, even though it was still wintertime. After a while, he started to speak.
‘Debbie, what’s done is done. What happened before we met is ancient history and has no relevance to us today. I’m touched, but not surprised, by your wanting to do the right thing by telling me, and by telling Isabella just what sort of scumbag she’s about to marry. You’re the sort of girl who will always try to do the right thing, and I love you for it.’ He caught her eye. ‘Sorry, I used the L-word. That’s not a word friends use, is it? I should have said that I admire you for it.’
‘I don’t mind you using it, Dario. I love the fact that you did.’
‘As far as Isabella’s concerned, I can tell you that she isn’t as dumb as she looks or sounds. I’m afraid you’re not the first, and you won’t be the last of Pierluigi
’s conquests, but she doesn’t care. Claudia’s spoken to her about it time after time, but she just says she loves him and she’s prepared to accept him the way he is.’
‘And are you prepared to accept me the way I am?’
He leant towards her and kissed her softly on the lips.
‘I would accept you any way. And, if you need proof, you can help me plant this. I bought it yesterday especially for you. Look.’
He picked up the rose bush in its pot and showed her the label. This described it as a bush rose, attaining a height of between one and one and a half metres, with a medium fragrance and a delicate pink and cream colour.
The name of the rose was Debbie’s Delight.
‘I hope we can watch it grow together.’
Debbie suddenly felt such an outpouring of relief that she started crying. Within seconds, she felt a strong arm envelop her shoulders while a pair of heavy black paws landed on her lap, followed by a big hairy head as Byron added his support.
‘What’s wrong, Debbie?’
Dario sounded so caring, so concerned, that she started crying even more. He crushed her to him and she felt his lips on her hair. With his free hand he stroked her cheek, occasionally dissuading the Labrador from climbing onto her lap. The dog was clearly concerned for her wellbeing and was making little whining noises. She sobbed into Dario’s chest for a full minute before digging in her pocket for a tissue. Once again, he got there first.
‘Here.’ She looked up to see he had a tissue in his hand. ‘Looking for one of these?’
‘Thank you.’
She took it gratefully and set about wiping her face and eyes. The dog, now reassured, decided it was safe for him to leave her in Dario’s hands and trotted off on a tour of inspection of the property.
She was about to explain why she had started crying when she heard his voice.
‘I’m not a violent man, but when I went round to visit that bastard who attacked you, I came very close to hitting him. I’ve never done anything like that before and all the way back along the autostrada in Claudia’s Porsche, I kept on asking myself why.’
‘You shouldn’t have gone there. Something could have happened to you.’
‘I was fine. Anyway, it all suddenly fell into place a week later when I knocked on your door and you opened it, with flour all over you.’ She saw him blink a few times. ‘It’s never happened to me before. To be honest, at the ripe old age of thirty-three, I’d probably come round to the conclusion that it never would and yet…’
As the tears dried on her cheeks, Debbie felt a smile forming on her face.
‘And yet, what?’
‘And yet it’s happened. Debbie Waterson, I never thought I’d hear myself saying this, but I think I love you.’
‘You only think so, do you?’
She was trying to keep her voice light, even though she could feel her emotions bubbling up inside.
‘I know so. You can’t imagine how excruciating the past weeks have been ever since you did your schoolmarm act on me and told me firmly we were only ever just going to be friends. I was the donkey and you were the carrot on the stick, always there, but just out of reach.’
‘I’m sorry, Dario, I feel such a fool. It’s just that, after what happened…’
‘I know and I understand. Of course, that’s what I kept telling myself.’ He caught her eye. ‘And then, today, when my mother told me you wanted to tell me something, I feared the worst. Just as I thought you maybe were developing some feelings for me, you were going to shoot me down in flames. I don’t care about Isabella’s fiancé, I don’t care about anything except being with you.’ He straightened up. ‘So, is there hope for me after all?’
‘Dario, I’m as surprised by the whole thing as you are. We’ve known each other for such a relatively short time but I can tell you this: I know, truly know, that I’ve never felt like this about anybody else in my whole life and even if you go off and leave me now, I know I’ll never feel this way again. In spite of all that’s happened to me, in spite of my firm resolve not to get involved, I’ve fallen for you lock, stock and barrel.’ She reached out and caught hold of his cheeks between her hands. ‘I love you to bits, Dario, and I hope you feel the same way about me.’
They kissed for so long that the dog finally gave up chasing rabbits and returned to start pawing at their legs, clearly concerned at their prolonged immobility. Regretfully, Debbie straightened up, but she kept a firm hold of Dario’s hands as she looked down at the dog.
‘It’s all right, Byron. Everything’s fine now.’
‘Well, almost. There’s just one problem.’
Debbie looked up from the dog. Dario was smiling broadly.
‘A problem?’
‘Yes, I have a feeling the time has come for me to get this place finished. I’ve got a lot of work to do here.’
‘We’ve got a lot of work to do here. That is, if you think you can trust your new apprentice.’
‘I would trust you with my life.’
‘Well, how about starting now?’
‘Maybe not right now.’
He gently released his grip on her hands and she felt his fingers run up her arms and through her hair as his lips brushed against hers. Her eyes closed in delicious anticipation, but then she sensed his hesitation. Opening her eyes again, she saw him looking down at the big hairy head resting on her knees. She felt an irresistible urge to giggle as she heard him address the Labrador.
‘Byron, could you look the other way, please?’
Chapter 20
April was a glorious month in Tuscany. The sun shone brightly for day after day as Debbie and Dario spent all their free time working on the house. It was now warm enough for them to eat outside and the loggia provided welcome shade from the ever-stronger sunshine. Debbie was still very busy at school, but she couldn’t wait to come out here whenever she could, loving the house and, of course, the man it belonged to.
The first rooms to be finished were the most important ones: the kitchen and their bedroom. They hadn’t got any curtains yet, so they spent their first night there with the shutters closed. It was dark in the room first thing in the morning, so she climbed out of the warm bed and went across to push them open, before slipping back into bed again. As she felt Dario stir beside her, she gently stroked his cheek with her fingers as she stared out of the window and up the hillside towards the tree-studded ridge at the top. Wild flowers were already starting to bloom and the leaves on the trees were increasingly green. It was a time of rebirth and renewal and Debbie felt the same sensation inside herself. Her big gamble, making a fresh start in a different country, had paid off. Her new life was everything she had hoped for, and much, much more.
‘Is it time to get up?’ He sounded sleepy. She turned towards him and kissed him softly on the lips.
‘It’s half past seven and we’ve got thirty people coming for lunch today. Remember, it’s our housewarming.’
She felt his hands reach for her body and pull her tightly to him. As ever, she thrilled at his touch. She let one hand run down to his strong, hairy chest as she heard him murmur into her neck.
‘I’m warm enough as it is.’
‘I can feel that.’
‘Besides, it’s only twenty-eight people. Don’t exaggerate.’
‘You’re forgetting Byron.’
‘All right, twenty-nine. Do we have to get up now?’
She smiled down at him and kissed him again.
‘Well, I suppose a few more minutes wouldn’t hurt.’
In fact it turned out to be quite a lot longer than that.
Once they finally surfaced, they got to work and it was a busy morning. Dario was going to be grilling meat for lunch so he prepared the fire and the grill. Meanwhile, Debbie threaded grapes and prawns onto cocktail sticks, laid smoked salmon onto little triangles of toast, and made a tomato, basil and garlic mix to go on the bruschetta. Dario opened bottles of Chianti Classico and checked that the Prosecco in th
e fridge was suitably chilled. They prepared plates, glasses and napkins, along with crisps, nuts and a huge mixed salad, until the kitchen table was groaning with food.
They had told people to come at twelve and, sure enough, a steady stream of cars started to arrive shortly after noon. First to arrive were Giacomo and his fiancée, Anna, along with his aunt, Lina the housekeeper, and her husband. He dropped them off and immediately disappeared again to collect Flora and the count. A few minutes later, Giancarla and Steven arrived in his old Alfa, closely followed by a big taxi containing Rory, Sam, Virginia and Claire, along with their two boyfriends. Three more cars soon appeared, bringing Dario’s skiing and squash buddies that Debbie was gradually getting to know and like. Just before half past, the silver Porsche came very slowly and carefully up the rutted drive, with Claudia trying not to damage the underside as she negotiated the potholes.
By the time Giacomo returned with Flora and the count, accompanied by a highly excited Labrador, Debbie and Dario were hard at it, serving drinks, handing round nibbles and preparing the main meal. Rory, accompanied by his now constant companion, Sam, followed Debbie to the kitchen and, in spite of her protests that they were here as guests, they took over the duties of waiter and sommelier.
Debbie managed to get a few moments alone with Rory as he came back in to replenish his glass and collect another plate of nibbles. Well, almost alone – Byron appeared and insisted on having his tummy scratched while Debbie and Rory chatted.
‘So, Rory – you and Sam…?’
He grinned. ‘Me and Sam, that’s right. It’s all good. He’s coming back to Scotland with me for the Easter break and I’m going to introduce him to my mum.’
‘That’s great. And trust me, Rory, she’ll understand.’
He took a big mouthful of red wine before answering.
‘I think you’re right. I owe it to her to tell her.’
By now, the sun was beating down hard, and people were soon seeking the shelter of the loggia in order to get some shade. Debbie took a few moments off from food preparation and walked around, chatting and showing those who hadn’t seen it what the rest of the house looked like. She was very pleased to find Steven now looking fit again, with colour in his cheeks and a smile on his face. Beside him, Giancarla, too, had a smile permanently on her face. They had been living together now for two months and all appeared to be well between them.
