Dreaming of Tuscany

by T A Williams

  Riccardo Negri was born in 1955 at Montegrifone, the only child of Baron Cosimo and Margherita Negri. In 1980, he married an Englishwoman, Elizabeth Greensleeves, who sadly died of cancer some years later. After his wife’s death, Riccardo went through a bleak period of depression, reflected in his paintings of the time. Ironically, this more sombre turn to his art was what brought him to the attention of the critics and saw his career leap forward. The general consensus was that his work after the death of his wife was on an altogether superior level compared to his early work. However, his productivity of late had gradually dwindled to a trickle and he had now almost disappeared off the radar.

  But none of that was as unexpected or as astonishing as the fact that the article recorded the birth of his only son. The boy was born some ten years before the death of his wife and his name was Luke.

  Bee sat back in amazement. So Luke, the estate manager, was in fact Riccardo’s son. The breath whistled out of her lungs. Why, she wondered, was Luke maintaining a pretence of being just a hired hand when he would presumably inherit the estate, and the redundant title of baron, in due course? What had Umberto meant when he had said the inheritance was ‘complicated’? Why was Riccardo living here alone and claiming he never spoke to anybody? And did that include his son?

  Bee knew she needed to talk to somebody about this and the obvious choice was Umberto, who clearly knew all there was to know about Montegrifone. She glanced at the time and saw that she still had an hour before dinner so she went down to look for him. She found him sitting in the shade outside the back door with the dog sprawled out at his feet.

  ‘Umberto, I wanted to ask you something, but if it’s too personal or a secret, just say so and I’ll forget it. It’s none of my business anyway.’

  She saw him turn towards her, the sad smile on his face indicating that he had been expecting this.

  ‘You’ve been talking to Riccardo again?’ Bee nodded. ‘And you want to know why we have a father and a son in two different houses a few hundred metres apart, who don’t talk to each other?’

  Bee nodded once more. ‘But only if you feel like telling me. I don’t want to intrude.’

  ‘It’s no secret, Bee. Have you ever spoken to Luca about his father?’

  She shook her head. ‘No. I only discovered they were related a few minutes ago.’

  ‘The simple fact of the matter is that Luca loved his mother and she loved him. When she died, it was a terrible blow for a young boy of only ten. He turned to his father for love and support and got nothing in return.’ Umberto’s eyes were gazing out over the vines, a pained expression on his face. ‘Riccardo had always been solely focused on his painting until he met his wife, and there’s no doubt he loved her dearly. He had some sort of breakdown after her death. We could all see that. He sent Luca off to a boarding school in England and retreated into himself. He virtually barricaded himself in the Podere Nuovo and we saw less and less of him. When Luca came home for the holidays, his grandfather, along with Ines and myself, looked after him. He and his father spoke less and less, and by the time Luca went on to university they weren’t communicating at all.’

  ‘How awful! And then Luke – Luca – went off to Australia.’

  ‘That’s right. It was his grandfather’s idea. The Australians have been at the forefront of all sorts of innovations in winemaking and Baron Cosimo suggested he go over there to learn what they had to teach him… and also, to put as much distance as possible between him and his father.’

  ‘How very sad – for both of them. And then Cosimo died and Luca came back to run the estate.’

  ‘He came back a couple of years before his grandfather died to take over from another old man who had been running the estate until a heart attack forced him to cut back.’

  ‘Who was that, Umberto?’

  He turned towards her with a gentle smile on his lips. ‘That would be me, Bee.’

  ‘I’m so sorry to hear about your heart. Are you all right again now?’

  ‘Never been better. My pacemaker and I go everywhere together and I feel fine. Anyway, as you know, last year Baron Cosimo died and that’s where it all gets very complicated. You see, by Italian law, half had to go to his only son, Riccardo, while he left the other half to Luca. He could see that Luca, rather than his arty father, represented the future of the estate.’

  ‘I see. So Luca and Riccardo have ended up joint owners of the estate, but are unable to talk to each other.’

  ‘Yes, but it’s worse than that. Like I told you before, the baron failed to ensure his affairs were in order before he died and there was a big tax debt to pay. The problem was that neither Riccardo nor Luca had the money to pay it. I don’t think Riccardo cares where he lives any more and he’d be happy to sell up, but Luca’s desperate to avoid that, and it’s been worrying him sick. He really loves this place and all the people who work here. It would be a tragedy for him and for them. Add to that losing his beloved grandfather and then his fiancée and you can see why life’s been pretty tough for Luca over the past year.’

  Bee sat back and did her best to digest the tale she had just heard. What was it Mimi had said about money causing all sorts of problems?

  ‘And there’s no chance of getting them back together?’

  ‘Not so far. We’ve all tried. After the baron’s death, Ines and I both did our best to get Riccardo and Luca to talk, but to no avail. I think Luca might be prepared to give it a try, but Riccardo has just refused point blank. He’s been shut away in that self-imposed prison of his for so long, I seriously doubt he’ll ever come out again.’ Rousing himself, he caught Bee’s eye. ‘Although I must confess I’m amazed he’s started talking to you. That’s got to be a good sign.’

  * * *

  A few days later, Bee was out for another walk. Romeo was nowhere to be found and Mimi was tied up with more phone calls, so she went by herself. The sun was already dropping behind the hilltop, but the air temperature was still high and she was soon perspiring. As usual she made a point of stamping her feet as she walked up through the vines, but mercifully didn’t run into any snakes this time. She remembered she had promised to call her mother, so she headed for her original spot, perched on top of the drystone wall, and phoned home.

  Her mother sounded delighted to hear from her. Bee started by telling her about her life here in general terms, but before she could bring up the subject of Mimi, Joey, Riccardo or his son, it turned out that her mother had news of her own.

  ‘Bee, you’ll never guess who dropped in to see me the other day.’ She didn’t wait for a reply. ‘Jamie.’

  ‘Jamie? He came down to Newbury to see you and dad?’ Bee was stunned, and immediately very suspicious.

  ‘Yes, indeed, although your father wasn’t here. He was on the golf course. Jamie came in and it was such a lovely day, he sat with me in the garden. I’ve always liked him, you know, even if you and he had your little problems.’

  ‘A bit more than little problems.’ Bee could hear the frustration in her voice and her mother can’t have missed it.

  ‘That’s all water under the bridge now though, isn’t it? Anyway, we had tea together. Luckily, I’d baked some of my scones that morning.’

  Choking back her annoyance, Bee listened patiently to her mother’s account of the lovely afternoon she and her ex had spent together before finally jumping in.

  ‘So, what was the reason he came down to see you, mum?’

  ‘No reason. He said he was just passing through.’

  ‘So, it was just a courtesy call?’ This was so foreign to Jamie’s normal modus operandi that Bee could hardly believe it was the same man.

  ‘Yes, just to say hello, he said. Oh yes, and did you hear somebody stole his phone?’ Again, she didn’t wait for a reply. ‘You see, he said he lost it in London and, along with it, he lost all his phone numbers and his address book.’

  ‘But surely everything would have been backed up…?’

  ‘I don’t kno
w, but I had to give him your number again and your address in Italy. He’d lost it, you see.’

  Suddenly the scales fell from Bee’s eyes. Of all the people to have got hold of her address – and Mimi’s – Jamie was just about the worst she could imagine. What if he passed the information to people in Hollywood or, even worse, the media? That was the kind of thing he might do. And as for losing his phone…! She had no doubt nothing of the sort had happened. It had almost certainly all been a ruse to get her address. She took a deep breath before answering as sweetly as possible.

  ‘I’m glad you had a nice afternoon.’

  ‘Oh, I did. It’s such a shame things didn’t work out between the two of you. He’s such a nice boy. You never know though. Maybe you’ll get back together again.’

  Bee sat there seething. One thing was for sure, she wasn’t going to mention anything about the people here. The less her mother knew about where she was and with whom, the better. She felt like screaming at her mother, but she knew, from long experience, that it would do no good. In the end she limited herself to a plea from the heart.

  ‘Please, please, mum, don’t give that address to anybody else. You maybe don’t realise it, but you’ve put me in a terrible position. Legally. Do you understand?’

  ‘But, seeing as it was Jamie…’

  ‘What’s done’s done, mum, but please, never again. All right?’

  As she finally rang off and returned the phone to her pocket, she was still fuming internally. So Jamie now knew where she was. It wouldn’t surprise her in the slightest if he just suddenly appeared. And if he did? Would he expect her to invite him in? She really didn’t want to encourage him and, with a start, she realised that she really didn’t want Luke to meet him. No sooner did the thought cross her mind than she found herself wondering just why that might be. There was nothing going on between her and Luke, after all, so why should it matter?

  She was still mulling this over as she set off back down the hill again. She wasn’t sure whether she should speak to Gayle first or to Mimi. As she emerged from the bottom edge of the vines, her thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of a familiar figure trotting along the track towards her. She dropped to her knees, realising as she did so that her thigh no longer hurt at all, and held out her arms, the sight of the dog helping to restore her good spirits.

  ‘Ciao, Romeo, and how are you today?’

  She made a fuss of him and then they walked back to the villa together. In the kitchen, she found Umberto who suggested she might like an aperitivo and went to fetch a bottle of cold rosé. Bee decided she had better speak direct to Mimi so she called her and told her she would be in the garden if she felt like joining her and Umberto. As he was opening the wine bottle, she filled the dog’s bowl with water and watched him drink eagerly. It really was very hot indeed, clammy hot. This evening, although the ground was dry as dust, it felt as if there was moisture in the air and dark clouds had appeared at the horizon.

  Umberto led her out into the garden and handed her a glass of wine. She persuaded him to sit down and join her for a drink at the table, with the dog sprawled at their feet. Although now in the shade, the wooden tabletop was still warm beneath her bare arms.

  ‘Do you think it’s going to rain?’

  He nodded grimly. ‘They’re talking about possible thunderstorms over the coming days. We need the rain, but I’m always worried about hail.’

  ‘What, at this time of year?’

  ‘It’s happened before. Some years we get hailstones the size of golf balls, and not nice smooth ones. They’re great jagged lumps of ice. They can do a serious amount of damage to the vines. A few years back, we lost half our crop. It just tore the leaves and the young grapes from the vines.’

  ‘How awful. I do hope that doesn’t happen this year.’

  They chatted a bit more while the dog lay at their feet, mouth open, panting noisily as he tried to cool down. A few minutes later, Mimi appeared and immediately made a fuss of Romeo. She looked relaxed and happy and accepted a glass of rosé willingly. Bee did her best to relegate the conversation with her mother to the back of her mind for now and smiled back at both of them. It was a very lovely evening, after all.

  However, as soon as Umberto had left them, Bee wasted no time in breaking the news to Mimi about her mother’s faux pas with Jamie. Mimi was visibly taken aback but, to Bee’s relief, she took the news phlegmatically.

  ‘If he should turn up, or if any journalists turn up, I’ll make sure I stay out of the way and you’ll have to tell them I’ve already left.’ A thought occurred to her. ‘You can tell them I hitched a lift with Joey in his jet.’ She caught Bee’s eye and grinned. ‘Make sure you tell them I only did it reluctantly, or they’ll start trying to guess whether we’re getting together.’

  ‘Are you?’

  Mimi just smiled.

  Chapter 13

  Three days later, the storm finally broke, bringing with it deafening claps of thunder, torrential rain, strong winds and… Jamie.

  Fortunately for the vineyard, there was no hail but, as far as Bee was concerned, hailstones the size of golf balls would have been preferable to the sight of her ex. She was in her room that evening after dinner, sitting at the computer with the rain lashing the windows, cowering back every time a lightning flash lit up the room, when the phone at her bedside rang. It was Umberto and he sounded suspicious.

  ‘I’m sorry to bother you, Bee, but there’s a man at the gate and he’s asking for you, in English.’

  ‘Oh, crap!’

  Umberto might not have understood the word, but, from her tone, he couldn’t have missed how this news made her feel.

  ‘Do you want me to tell him to go away?’

  Bee paused for thought. What she had been dreading had now happened. What should she do? Conscious that Umberto was waiting for a response, she made a snap decision.

  ‘Don’t do anything for the moment, Umberto. I’ll come straight down.’

  As she went down the stairs, her mind was racing.

  She could get Umberto to tell Jamie there was nobody of that name here and send him away, but, from past experience, she knew that wouldn’t satisfy him. When he wanted, he could be as tenacious as a little terrier. He would sniff around and, quite possibly, give away Mimi’s hiding place at the same time. Her only option was to let him in and sit down and talk to him, trying to appeal to his better nature.

  She met Umberto in the hall, standing beside the intercom linking the villa with the gates. As she approached, he moved to one side and, reluctantly, she lowered her mouth towards the grill.

  ‘Who is it, please?’

  ‘Bee, it’s me, Jamie.’ There was relief in his voice. ‘It’s absolutely pouring down out here. Please, can I come in.’

  It didn’t bother Bee in the slightest if he got soaked, but there was no point in delaying the inevitable. She pressed the button to open the gates and straightened up, catching Umberto’s eye.

  ‘It’s my ex-boyfriend. He’s found out where I’m staying. I’ll wait for him at the door if you could go and tell Mimi to stay out of sight. Just say, “Bee’s boyfriend is here”. Your English is good enough for that, isn’t it?’ He nodded. ‘The last thing I want is for him to see her. If he asks, I’m going to tell him she’s gone away.’

  Umberto nodded his agreement and set off up the stairs. Bee went over to the front doors and opened one half. As she did so, a lightning flash illuminated the whole scene for a fraction of a second and she recoiled. By now, the track outside had turned into a muddy stream and she could hear the engine revving as the car drove up the hill and the wheels slipped in the mire. As she looked on, a little Ford appeared, snaking from side to side as the tyres struggled to find some grip. At the wheel, staring out from behind the windscreen wipers was Jamie, and Bee’s heart sank.

  As he reached the parking area, he must have turned the wheel too sharply, as the car suddenly slid sideways off the gravel, the right-hand front tyre lodgin
g in a flower bed, crushing part of a massive oleander bush in the process. She heard the engine race and saw mud being flung up, but to no avail. He was stuck. Finally, he turned it off and all she could hear was the continuous drumming of the rain on the ground, a cascade of water coming from the overflowing gutters high above and deafening claps of thunder.

  Heaving a deep sigh, she stepped a bit further forward. As she did so, the car door on the driver’s side opened and Jamie sprang out. Seeing her standing in the light, he hurried along the path towards her, doing his unsuccessful best to keep the rain off his head with his holdall.

  ‘Hi, Bee. How good to see you, but what appalling weather!’ His shoulders were running with water and he shook himself like Romeo emerging from the river. ‘It’s absolutely foul!’

  ‘Hello, Jamie. I wasn’t expecting to see you here.’ In fact, she had been, but he didn’t need to know that.

  She could hardly leave him out in the rain so she stepped aside and beckoned him in. Closing the door after him she turned to see him smiling winningly at her. His hands were held out towards her, but her heart had hardened. She made no attempt to take his hands or fall into his arms, and he couldn’t fail to notice. Letting his hands drop back to his sides, he studied her closely before passing judgement.

  ‘I’m so pleased to see you looking a lot better than I expected.’

  While not the most gushing compliment she had ever received, it was so unusual for him to comment favourably on her appearance that it made her stop and think. Why was he being so nice? Was he just thinking of his damn screenplay or were his motives more personal?

  ‘That’s good to hear. Now, tell me, to what I owe this visit.’

  ‘You don’t sound very pleased to see me.’

  ‘I’m glad you’ve worked that out.’

  ‘Why? What’ve I done?’

  There was a suit of armour in the corner of the lobby, with a vicious-looking spiked steel ball and chain gripped in its gauntlet. The idea of picking it up and swinging it at Jamie had distinct appeal, but she restrained herself. For now.