by Karen Aldous
Orlando’s face turned fierce. ‘Don’t speak about my mother like that. I want to know what my sister is thinking. She has every opportunity to walk off with our inheritance and I have the right to question it.’
‘That is not the question to ask,’ Alberto spat. ‘You’re as cold and selfish as your mother. You just want the farm for yourself.’
Olivia shook with fear, but – instinctively clasping her stomach – stood up and with authority addressed the room as though it was a wide courtroom filled to capacity. ‘You are directing your grievance at the wrong person, Landi. This is the exact issue we need to discuss with our mother. Mamma needs to provide the answers, not me. However, I will answer your question.’
She took a deep breath, brimming with pride at her own spontaneity. ‘Of course money won’t fill an emotional hole. I’d have much rather grown up with my siblings and been part of a loving family. I feel I have benefitted unfairly financially, and I want Mamma to take responsibility or redistribute the farm for everyone’s benefit. I don’t want or need it. I love the farm of course, like you all do, but I feel I’ve benefitted from our other grandparents already.’
Orlando glared. ‘But you have the farm on the market already. You are selling it.’
‘I told you Orlando, she didn’t know,’ Bella yelled.
‘I told you I would deal with it,’ Orlando sniped at his sister.
Olivia glowered at him. ‘It’s on the market because that’s what I thought I should do. Mum, tell them what you told me.’ She looked at Roz for support but her mother averted her eyes. Peering round at them all, she continued, feeling completely alone. ‘Mamma told me she didn’t want it, and wanted me to take sole responsibility. I didn’t get a choice. I was helping her out. I thought Mamma came here to tell you all this. What am I supposed to do? I can’t run it from London. The plan was to find a new owner who would keep Gabriella and Nico on to manage it. That was before I found out about you and Bella.’
Olivia choked up, unable to fight back flooding tears and feeling the whole family was against her.
‘And you don’t care that it is our heritage; it belongs in the family. How can we trust you?’ Orlando pointed a finger at her.
Every muscle in her stiffened. Where had her strength gone? Sniffing uncontrollably, Olivia stammered, ‘N-no one cared about my heritage or whether I be-belonged to the family.’ Feeling her head pound, she ran from the room, down the stairs, then across to the front door and out to the square. Unable to think, she ran across the piazza towards the car, and stopped, hidden from view on the steps and poured out her heart. She should have prepared herself better for this. Not only did she feel let down by her family but by Alberto too.
Chapter 27
Still half asleep, Olivia’s eyes jolted. She was sure she saw a turquoise ocean and rocks. She sat up from her almost vertical position in the passenger seat and pressed the lever to bring her chair upright, remembering the argument with her family, Alberto’s unwelcome interference, and then insisting that Alberto take her home.
‘I am deeply sorry, Olivia, but your brother was rude to you and I needed to defend you. It will do you good to be at the coast. You can forget your family, forget your responsibilities, forget Nonna’s farm, for a while at least.’
She was too tired to argue and she had previously agreed to his plan.
‘I’m not promising I can be sociable. I feel wretched,’ she said.
Catching the breeze from the open top and feasting her eyes around her, she saw the scenery had changed dramatically. ‘This looks like paradise, hills and that beautiful bay across there, just breath-taking. Are they all private villas?’
‘Mostly. There are a few hotels but it is very exclusive. It was once a mecca for Italian film stars and their cronies, during the Fifties and Sixties; they came for la dolce vita, the sweet life, before Sorrento was fashionable.
‘It is now having a renaissance. You will see actors, international stars as well as the Italians. Many rich and famous have villas here. The Bulgari family owned a spectacular one, Villa Godilonda, which has now been bought by Russian businessman and converted to a hotel.
‘Mamma and Papa bought this villa when the resort was a ghost town. The time when For Sale signs hung swinging in the sea air going rusty. Enormous villas decayed with neglect. They loved the peace and the quiet of the beaches. Weekends were full of adventure. My friends would come from Florence with me sometimes and, at other times, I met up with two great friends I made here whilst on holiday. It is a special place for me and my family.’
Alberto turned into a private service road filled with trees and shrubs. He picked up a remote device from a cubby hole on his console and flicked a switch as they approached what resembled a parking bay with six-foot walls, ochre-painted, either side of central double iron gates that steadily swung open.
Olivia remained speechless as she travelled through the gates to what she imagined was heaven or even utopia. Heady scents of pine and tamarisk floated through the air. Olive trees among tall chestnuts and pines surrounded the winding track, which slowly descended to reveal a towering cream villa with green shutters. Against the turquoise sky, it dominated the scene. As they drew closer, through the canopies of the trees, the sea made its appearance, the sun blistering towards them.
‘Here we are. Welcome to Villa Tamarisk.’ Alberto kissed her cheek, waking her from her trance.
‘I can’t imagine I’m ever going to want to leave here. It’s just divine.’
Stepping up to the entrance, Olivia was in awe. It was like a small palace. Wide and palatial, the windows in symmetry, the lawns too. Through the double front doors, built of solid wood, Alberto took her straight through a palatial hall with an elegant winding staircase and through a doorway that took them through another corridor and past two rooms before reaching a wide light sitting room, dotted with vintage sofas, rugs, and just enough small tables to show off the antique objets d’art.
It was contemporary meets film set, but what stole the show were the views. As far as she could see, the ocean stretched out to the blue horizon, its only blemish a swollen amber sun.
A woman sat outside wide French doors on a terrace, engrossed in a book. Olivia supposed her to be Alberto’s mother. Panic surged through her. The woman turned her head – she must have heard them. She put down her book and lifted her sunglasses before standing. A slim woman who was clearly about fifty but could have been mistaken for a forty-year-old came towards her, the trousers of her cream jumpsuit flowing gracefully in harmony with her long legs.
She held out a well-manicured hand. ‘Olivia, a pleasure to meet you. Alberto hasn’t stopped talking about you. I’m Michele. My husband, Carlo, will be up soon. He is down on the rocks fishing. I did message him a little while ago to remind him you were coming, but I expect he is hoping to bring back something tasty for dinner.’
Michele floated across to her son and kissed both cheeks. ‘Alberto, my darling. Lovely to see you. I’ve been keeping abreast of things on social media. Can’t wait for news of what you’re doing next. The branding is spot on.’ She turned back to Olivia. ‘So what can I offer you to drink, my dear?’
‘Something cool and fruity, please?’
‘And presumably you’ll have a beer, darling?’
Alberto pressed on his mother’s forearm. ‘Yes, but you stay with Olivia. I’m sure you girls would like a chat. I’ll get the drinks.’
Feeling completely bedraggled beside his glamorous mother, Olivia wished she had had time to freshen up. She was bare of any make-up now and although her suit was un-creased, she was self-conscious that her hair and face were not creating the best impression.
Michele’s eyes creased with her smile. ‘Grazie, oh,’ she said placing one hand on her hip and sweeping an arm out in front of her, ‘shall we go and sit on the terrace then? It’s still warm.’
With panic subsiding, Olivia returned her smile. ‘I’d love to;
the view looks amazing.’
Seated on the soft cushions of the wicker furniture under a large portico, Olivia gazed out, capturing the breath-taking panorama, the rocks forming claws around the sweeping sandy bay below, sheltered intermittently by cypress, pines, and tamarisks and occasional splashes of pink oleander. ‘You have a beautiful spot here,’ she told Michele, then following her gaze, saw an older man carrying a rod and a bag over his shoulder. ‘Is that your husband?’
‘Yes. That’s Carlo. I don’t think he has made a catch.’ Michele waved to him just before he disappeared under a canopy of leaves. ‘He won’t mind too much. It’s more about the escape, the tranquillity here. This place is more of a home to us than Florence now. It’s so relaxing in comparison. A little climb back up from the beach, but good for the heart. He must slow down now he’s getting older. He is seventy-five and refuses to give up the bank, silly old fool.’
‘You two certainly have youthful looks.’
‘My dear, Carlos is old enough to be my father. I’m twenty years younger than he, but thank you.’ She crossed her legs and leant forward as though preparing for a girly chat. ‘I was very young when I had Siena, Alberto’s sister. Just seventeen. I couldn’t believe it. I thought he would discard me, being one of the rich and elite. He is from a long line of Florentine nobility. Such a cultured family compared to mine. But we were so in love. Luckily Carlos asked me to marry him otherwise I don’t know what desperate measures I would have taken. I think girls have it much easier nowadays. You are so much more independent with so many choices.’
Olivia rubbed her chin and stared out to the horizon, watching the waves wash up the shore. It was true; she did have independence. She’d been raised by two wonderful people, given love and security enough to be given choices. Not only did she have her career, but a property and a business as well, thanks to her grandparents. In fact, she had been quite cushioned compared to an older generation of women and before.
It put her existence into perspective. All these years, she’d craved her mother’s love and protection and then thought she needed a man to lean on. Michele was right. She had choices and was more than capable. Why had it taken her so long to realize all this?
‘Olivia.’ The voice interrupted her thoughts. ‘You had sailed into the wind,’ Alberto said putting a tray of drinks on the table. ‘I called you three times. Meet my papa, Carlos.’
Jumping to her feet, and blushing, Olivia held out her right hand to the tanned man wearing a straw hat. ‘I’m so sorry. I’m Olivia. Pleased to meet you. I was totally mesmerized by the waves.’
‘Benvenuto.’ Carlos held out his arms, hugging her and kissing both cheeks, instantly making her feel welcome.
Alberto served drinks whilst Olivia chatted to his parents about their homes and bringing up their children. Sara, his younger sister, arrived with her husband and children, followed by Siena, his elder sister, who arrived with her husband and their little boy, who was immediately fussed over by his grandparents.
Alberto seemed to be the perfect host and swigged back a beer with Siena’s partner Fabio. Sienna was pretty, in her mid-thirties, she guessed, with beautiful skin and very little make-up. She dressed simply in jeans and a plain T-shirt and introduced herself to Olivia with friendly ease.
Olivia learned how much Alberto’s mother was also very much involved in helping her daughters succeed in their careers. Siena gave much credit to her mamma’s influence in her life. She told Olivia the story of times when at seven years old, Michele had begun showing her how to paint her finger and toenails, how to moisturize her skin, to take care in the sun.
It was an endearing image and one she would have loved to experience herself with her own mother, then for the first time, she envisioned herself with a daughter of her own, spending similar time together.
After a delicious four-course dinner, cooked by their own session chef, and accompanied by some delicately fine wines, Olivia remained in the dining room, which was on the other side of the sitting room. The doors opened out to the same terrace overlooking the now darkening sky and sea.
The temperature had cooled and when Olivia finished a conversation with Sara, she noticed Alberto had gone from the room. Olivia thought he seemed rather anxious and wondered if he was still upset from this afternoon. She’d seen him checking his phone a few times and whispering to his mother. Maybe it was his work.
In some ways, she wished he would share his worries. Maybe that was why he was tense today. Perhaps he’d been bottling up some business crisis. He had high standards, and seemed to be quite the perfectionist, which – now having met his mother, Olivia figured he may have inherited from her. Yet they seemed so relaxed and unflappable, enjoying their family time.
Carlos had just topped up her glass of red wine from the table, when Alberto retuned to the room. Behind him was a younger version of himself.
‘Meet Pascal, my younger brother,’ he said, who in turn introduced his girlfriend Sylvie, who was young and extremely tiny, suddenly making Olivia feel tall and gangly.
‘Pleased to meet you. Alberto speaks very highly of you,’ Pascal told her.
‘Are there any more of you?’ she asked.
‘No, we’re all here. Finally.’ Alberto beamed at his brother. ‘I’ll get you a beer,’ he told him and again, strode out of the room, leaving her to chat to the warm young couple.
Moments later, Alberto came back carrying another tray of glasses, filled up with sparkling liquid. Michele took the tray from him and he handed out the flutes of bubbling wine.
‘I’ve just seen a most amazing moon out there. Olivia, come and see.’
Quickly taking a glass from Michele, she excused herself, and tossing her napkin from her lap to the table, she followed him, careful not to spill any of her wine on to the new trouser suit. At the door, he took her hand, helping her over the step.
‘You see?’ He pointed to the shimmering white ball lighting the early evening sky and spreading its reflection in a long line over the sea.
Strolling across the terrace Olivia reached for the balustrade and squeezing it with her left palm, she let out a gasp as she looked up. ‘It’s magnificent, barely a night sky but …’
Alberto broke in. ‘Olivia, will you marry me?’
Stealing her eyes from the moon, she was not sure she had heard correctly. She gazed round at him and met his eyes. He was knelt on one knee. She looked down and between his fingers saw the diamond twinkling in the moon’s reflection.
‘Oh my God.’ Her hand smacked her mouth as she squealed. ‘God, Alberto. I wasn’t expecting this. It’s …’ She clutched her chest. She met his eyes again and he was biting his bottom lip. ‘But, well, yes. I think, I … er, it’s so sudden. I’ve not had a …’ She held her breath. ‘Yes, I will,’ she squealed, overcome with shock. In nanoseconds, her body took control and sent her into a wobbling mess.
Alberto clasped her left hand in his, and resting his glass on the floor and trying to steady it with the other, slid the platinum ring on her third finger. ‘I love you, mio piccolo angelo. You make me the happiest man alive.’
She stared down at the trembling hand, the clarity of the diamond, and wept. ‘Oh, Alberto, it’s just stunning. I’m speechless.’
‘I’m so happy now. I was worried. First, Pascal was late with the ring, then I was scared you would say no.’
Collecting his glass and standing from his kneeling position, Alberto wrapped one arm around her waist, and with the glass in his other hand, turned them both around to face his family, quietly observing from the door. ‘Meet the future Mrs Alberto Luciano.’
A camera flashed and Carlos held up his glass. ‘We make a toast. We toast to your engagement. Congratulations to the happy couple. We look forward to the wedding. Saluti.’
The chink of glasses echoed with the chorus of ‘Saluti.’
Still fighting her shaking body, Olivia swallowed down a large mouthful of what she now k
new to be champagne, and wiping the corner of her eye, whilst still gripping Alberto’s arm, she beamed at the audience. ‘Thank you. I know we haven’t known one another very long, but I love your son … brother, uncle, brother-in-law …’ she acknowledged each with a shrug and a titter ‘… whoever he is to you, dearly, and I just hope I make him very happy.’
She then took in a deep breath before falling under the intoxication of his long lingering kiss and the enchantment of heavenly bliss. It was like the family argument never happened. She was drunk with love. At least his family seemed to love her.
Chapter 28
Although the guestroom at the coast house was wonderfully luxurious with its super-wide four-poster bed and silk linen, Olivia wasn’t able to sleep with such excitement and the array of issues that were jumbled in her mind. Not only had she agreed to marry Alberto, but she still hadn’t resolved the now worsened situation with her family. It was awful to think of having a wedding without her mum there, and after discovering her new family, how wonderful it would be to have her very own there – especially when Bella and Rosa could be her bridesmaids and Orlando’s two boys her pageboys.
With each thought the tears kept creeping into her eyes. It was all a pipe dream. The meeting at Orlando’s was a total disaster despite what she considered quite controlled emotions on her part. Orlando was so protective of his mother, despite everything Roz had instigated and all the deceit and lies. What was he thinking, and what was Roz telling them?
Alberto’s temper hadn’t helped, and had only aggravated the situation. They had definitely started on the wrong foot, and she had never seen Alberto so aggressive. Was that the way he protected her? There was little chance of ever now being accepted by Orlando, even when she relinquished the inheritance. Even Bella seemed overpowered by him.
As for the proposal, she had agreed all too quickly and wasn’t even sure if she was ready. It all seemed too soon. Alberto and his family had even begun throwing out ideas and plans for the wedding venue. Olivia championed a simple, casual affair possibly at Nonna’s farm among the vines, or at his parents’ beach house with about fifty guests, whilst Alberto proposed grander venues such as a villa overlooking Florence, a medieval castle near Florence, or a villa on the shores of Lake Como or on the Amalfi coast with around two hundred guests. All his guests. She only had Chiara, Liam, and Sophia, and the new baby of course. There would be only be four guests of hers there.
