Beyond The Island

by Mackenzie, Brenda

  ‘If someone – I don’t know who – had got wind of Tom’s research and was afraid it contained something that could incriminate them;’ her face screwed up as she tried to think it through, ‘might they take steps to stop him using it?’

  ‘You are maybe thinking of my cousin Renzo? I can’t think of a reason why.’

  ‘Me neither. I’m sure Renzo can’t be involved.’

  Fabio chuckled. ‘Sounds very far-fetched if you’ll forgive me. How do you say? “Sherlock Holmes” don’t you think?’ Seeing her expression, he hastened to add, ‘I’m not poking fun at you dear Joanne. Perhaps we should try to find Tom in case he’s had an accident. Do you know where he lives?’

  Joanne tried to recall her conversation with Tom. ‘He mentioned his lodgings were only a short distance away,’ she murmured. ‘I didn’t really listen but I think it’s over a baker’s shop. That’s right! I remember he laughed and patted his stomach, saying the wonderful smell of newly baked bread got him up in the morning.’ She shook her head. ‘No, sorry - I can’t remember exactly where he said it is.’

  ‘If you’ll wait here a moment I’ll see if I can attract that waiter’s attention. He might know Tom’s address. If not, it shouldn’t be too difficult to locate baker’s shops in this area. Then that’s the first place we’ll go.

  At nine o’clock at night there wasn’t the aroma of newly baked bread to aid their search for the bakery. While Fabio drove slowly up and down narrow streets Joanne leaned out of the car window and stared about for the shop. The area was deserted apart from a stray dog or cat; no one on the street from whom to enquire the whereabouts. She decided that in this poor district people must be in their beds, ready to rise early for work the next day.

  Their quest seemed fruitless and then turning a corner into a narrow road, Joanne spotted a wood fascia board above a shop and in swirly script, saw F. Conticelli –Panificio.

  ‘Found it! A baker’s shop - must be Tom’s lodgings.’

  Fabio drove a little further before stopping the engine. ‘Don’t want to alert the neighbourhood,’ he said softly.

  They ran back and found the shop door locked but walking a few paces, Fabio pointed to a narrow passage leading around the back. ‘We’d better go quietly and see if someone’s about.’

  He beckoned and Joanne followed, both treading carefully around large plastic containers which occupied most of the space.

  Perhaps the lady who bustled forward as they knocked on the side door had already spotted them. ‘We are not open,’ she said sharply and grasped a large broom, prepared to fend them off. ‘My husband is preparing tomorrow’s baking.’

  ‘Scusi, Signora, we are looking for Tom.’ Fabio reverted to Italian as he explained the situation to the baker’s wife, his Italian too rapid for Joanne to follow except by his gestures. The woman slowly relaxed and after a quick discourse with her Fabio turned to Joanne and said in English. ‘I explained we’re friends of Tom and concerned because he failed to meet us after his shift at the restaurant. La Signora is positive he left on time for the restaurant and insists he is a perfect lodger and to be trusted.

  A sudden inspiration spiked Joanne’s thoughts. ‘Please ask her if she saw him leave carrying anything – a brief case, file or something.’ She waited as they spoke.

  ‘Yes, she says when he stopped to exchange a few words with her on his way out she noticed he carried a folder.’ Fabio looked perplexed for a moment until he grasped Joanne’s train of thought. ‘I think you might be on the right track, Joanne. Sounds rather implausible but he could have been waylaid by someone desperate to get at his papers he was bringing...’ His brows furrowed. ‘But where does that get us?’

  Fabio wrote his home telephone number on a page torn from his diary. ‘Signora, would you kindly ring this number if Tom turns up?’

  ‘Certainly, Signor. I am very concerned for the young man. Tom’s always been so considerate and lets us know what time to expect him.’ Her forehead creased and she rubbed her floury hands together. ‘My husband works through the night so even if Tom returns late. I’ll ask him to phone you, shall I?’

  ‘Yes, that would be kind. It will be good to hear from you whatever the time,’ Fabio confirmed.

  Bidding the helpful lady buonosera, the two of them walked quickly back to the car, turning over ideas.

  As Fabio opened the door, Joanne felt a rumbling in her stomach and realized neither she nor Fabio had eaten. As if in tune Fabio declared,

  ‘We’ll go to my place; I’ll cook us up something.’ He touched her arm and asked softly, ‘You’ll stay tonight Joanne and wait with me for news of Tom?’

  She caught hesitation in his voice and her reply came quickly. ‘I couldn’t relax at the hotel not knowing if he’s okay.’ her voice was uneven as a picture of being alone with Fabio in his cottage pulled her thoughts back to their embrace on the sandy beach. For the hundredth time she wondered why Fabio wasn’t married. But Fabio appeared unaware of her trepidation.

  ‘Whatever could have happened to Tom?’ she puzzled, forcing her voice to be steady. ‘I can’t imagine thugs on this Island.’

  ‘Well, not knowing the young man it’s difficult to say.’ Fabio raised his voice above the roar of the engine as the car climbed uphill then as the road levelled out he changed gear and spoke. ‘You know your idea could be a possibility - that someone is worried that Tom’s research implicates them. Is there anyone you can think of?’

  ‘What - trick him into a meeting with them? No, no one at all.’

  ‘It does sound far- fetched, I agree.’

  Joanne frowned, but no likely person came to mind. Her voice strengthened. ‘It does sound nonsense. What sort of person would be worried by what Tom’s doing? I believe all he’s doing is collecting material about types of soil and such like. He did tell me about it but I didn’t pay much attention. I’m really not sure what environmental research involves.’

  ‘I have an interest in environmental issues but honestly can’t see why anyone might steal his research.’

  Joanne stared out into the gathering dark and screwed up her face. ‘I have an awful feeling about it...Tom sounds trustworthy. He wouldn’t let us down unless something happened to him.’ Almost to herself she murmured, ‘I do hope he’s safe.’

  ‘Try not to worry. He must be old enough to look after himself.’

  As Fabio reached over and briefly held her hand, a tremor rushed through her body, setting her pulse on a race.

  He noticed her shiver and seemed to assume it was the effect of the cold, night air. ‘Temperatures drop quickly up here. We’ll soon be there.’

  Huge banks of cloud obliterated the moon and allowed brief glimpses of solitary stone farm houses which sat four-square amidst their desolate land. How sad she thought, that people who’d worked this land for centuries might soon be uprooted and slotted into bland, apartments if developers got their way. There was nothing here for the next generation. People told how young people headed for lucrative jobs on the mainland.

  Suddenly the car swerved up a track and stopped. Joanne saw they’d arrived. She held her breath as an ancient iron ring door handle clicked loudly as Fabio twisted it.

  He opened the door. ‘There’s no need to bolt the place,’ he said. ‘The locals around here look out for each another.’ Giving her a quick glance he said, ‘besides, an intruder would not be encouraged when my poultry set up quite a din! He reached around the inner wall for a switch and instantly the sitting room was flooded with warm light.

  An overwhelming awareness of being alone here with Fabio made Joanne halt on the threshold. She saw embers in the stove flare up in the draught from the open door.

  ‘It’s beautifully warm.’ She turned and shut the door and knew this would be different from that other time she was here. Not because that had been a hot sunny day but perhaps...? She came to as Fabio spoke close to her ear.

  ‘I keep the stove going even in summer as it also heats the water,’ he
explained.

  Wood smoke curled in her lungs as she glanced around the room and saw colourful fabric thrown over sofas, the old wooden beams and stone walls crammed with vibrant paintings. The place appealed to all her senses.

  ‘You remember where the cloakroom is, Joanne? I’ll get started on our meal.’ Fabio headed for the kitchen.

  She found the bathroom and tidied herself. Without warning, a thread tugged Joanne back a long way into her past and memories she’d hoped were buried now filled her head. She saw the caravan on the dismal site which had been her last home she’d shared with her mother before that terrible day; the day she’d arrived back and found her mother had been taken into hospital....

  She forced the memory away and stared about.

  Fabio called from the kitchen. ‘It won’t take long; just a simple dish of pasta. I’ll pour you a glass of Merlot. Or how about a brandy and ginger ale, a nice warming drink if you’d prefer?’

  ‘Yes, I’d love a brandy thank you.’ Her voice echoed about the rafters.

  He approached and glanced at her amiably as she took the drink he’d poured. ‘I’ll join you in a moment with mine.’

  Fabio’s perception was intriguing. She wondered if he’d really believed her shiver in the car was due to the chilly air but guessed he suspected the reason. Once again she puzzled why he remained single. At almost thirty years of age he probably would have had affairs. Joanne thought about the charming women Fabio had introduced her to.

  She strolled over to browse his book shelves and saw Fabio’s interests ranged wide. The History of the Roman Empire sat amongst books on European civilization; there were numerous large glossy Art books and biographies of artists while up on the highest shelves, books devoted to Natural History and the ecology. She also spotted rows of literature in both Italian and English and on the bottom shelves, reference books and gardening encyclopaedias. Her survey was interrupted by Fabio’s voice.

  ‘Are you all right, Joanne?’ he called. ‘I’ll be with you in a moment.’

  ‘I’m fine, enjoying your lovely room. What I can do to help?’

  ‘You’ll find a tablecloth and napkins in the top dresser drawer. Cutlery is in the middle one. You don’t mind if we eat at the kitchen table? Be easier to serve in here.’

  ‘I’d like that.’ Joanne busied herself. She held the crisp linen tablecloth with matching napkins and wondered if Fabio was responsible for the laundering. Then she counted the cutlery, picked up her empty brandy glass and took them all through to the kitchen.

  As if reading her mind Fabio indicated the starched cloths. ‘I’m fortunate to have a daily woman who spoils me; treats me as good as her son.’

  The sight of him working made Joanne’s heart beat faster. In her mind’s eye she snapped a picture as he efficiently chopped onions, red peppers and tomatoes and tossed them into a heavy pan. He next poured a quantity of red wine into the pan. Instinctively, she knew this image was fixed indelibly in her mind.

  ‘Right!’ Fabio turned with a grin. ‘Leave that to simmer while we enjoy a glass of wine.’ He took her glass and placed it on the counter. ‘Is red wine all right with you, Joanne?’

  ‘Yes perfect, thank you.’ She watched him pour a generous measure into two large glasses before passing one to her.

  Then he smiled at her over the top of his, ‘To my enchanting friend, Joanne. And may our parting be brief?’

  There was a question implicit in that comment. The brandy had gone to her head. She was not accustomed to drinking strong alcohol and felt slightly dizzy. ‘I’m so glad we met; oh yes, I’d love to return.’ Joanne’s words escaped without fore-thought and her face fired red at the naiveté. She managed to replace her empty glass on the table and saw Fabio cock his head, speculatively.

  ‘Enough chatting or we’ll never get to eat!’ If you’ll hold your plate near the dish of pasta, I’ll serve you. Ladle the sauce on top will you please?’

  They sat down and ate hungrily without talking. Soon their plates were empty.

  ‘That was absolutely delicious, thank you.’ Joanne drained her wine, sat back and declined more. ‘I’m still concerned about Tom. What do you think we can do?’

  Fabio’s eyebrows drew together as he thought. ‘I’m afraid not a lot until daylight,’ he replied. ‘I’m somewhat perturbed as well.’

  Joanne heaved a sigh but remained silent.

  ‘Coffee’s hot on the hob now,’ Fabio injected a cheerful tone. ‘Maria will be happy to clear the kitchen tomorrow.’ His voice was uneven. ‘Dearest Joanne, I cannot bear to think you are leaving. Please tell me you feel...’

  Before she could respond they were in one another’s arms, hearts beating together.

  Joanne’s reply escaped as a sigh. She was conscious of Fabio leaning down, his warm hand cradling her face. She felt him shudder. A groan rose from deep within him and lifting her in his arms, he strode from the kitchen and they collapsed together onto a sofa. Was she really ready for this?

  Wrapped tightly in his arms, the jangle of ringing tones at first failed to register. Briefly the strident sound ceased and then began again.

  Joanne was the first to break free off their embrace. ‘Telephone...Tom?’ she whispered.

  Fabio muttered something in Italian, his face flushed. ‘Must be – I gave him this number. Oh Joanne my dear, I must answer it.’ He staggered to his feet, smoothing back his unruly hair as he reached for the phone. ‘Is that you Tom?’ There was a pause and then he demanded, ‘Where for God’s Sake are you?’

  Joanne jerked upright. She saw Fabio’s eyes narrow. Despite dying to know what had happened to Tom, she got to her feet and dashed to the cloakroom to tidy herself and returned to hear Fabio exclaim,

  ‘That’s crazy, Tom!’ He was shaking his head as he listened while jotting something into a notebook. ‘What does it sound like? And can you smell or see anything unusual?’

  What weird questions. Joanne frowned and tried to fathom what he meant.

  ‘I’m sure I can identify the place. Wait there Tom and I’ll fetch you as fast as I can!’ She saw him replace the receiver and noted the worried look which creased his features as he turned to her and spoke rapidly.

  ‘He’s up on the mountain in pitch darkness, jogging about to keep warm. Must be freezing! I’ve worked out where he might be; strong volcanic smell and sound of rushing water. It could have been lots of places but he mentioned some ruins which I’ve often painted.’ He was striding into the kitchen as he spoke, with Joanne at his heels. He grabbed a fleece off the back of the door. ‘Some crazy guy mugged him and pushed him into the back of a van. Bizarre, eh? Then drove him up the mountain and dumped him!’

  It was hard to believe. ‘Poor Tom, is he hurt?’ She jerked upright.

  ‘A nasty bump on the head knocked him out for a while - bashed it on the inside of the van as it lurched up a track. We’ll find out more later.’

  Her quick wits came to the fore, ‘Hot coffee – Tom will need some. Is there a thermos Fabio?’ She ran off to fetch the coffee keeping warm on the stove.

  ‘Great, Joanne! Good thing we didn’t drink it then,’ he said giving her a mischievous grin. He buried his head in a cupboard and his muffled voice reached her. ‘Here it is; not been used for a while. He got to his feet and had soon filled the flask. ‘Sorry my love,’ he reached for her hand. ‘There’s only room for Tom in my car – will you be all right on your own?’ He leaned over and kissed her gently on the lips. ‘Sorry we had to...’

  Even as she reluctantly drew away the thought came that unlike women, men always focus on one thing at a time. ‘I’ll be fine – please go quickly Fabio.’

  Half out of the door he called back. ‘Well your guess was right, Joanne - whoever it was took Tom’s folder of papers. There won’t be anyone else waiting up on the mountain so I can’t miss him. Make yourself at home, my love; I’ll be back as soon as I can.’

  Her emotions were ravelled. Joanne heard the little Morgan roar away and
tried to rid her body of the ache for him. Was Fabio’s pledge serious? She tried to consider the riddle of Tom’s kidnap but her mind was a jumble of questions. Why would Tom’s research be a serious issue for anyone else? Unable to dredge up answers, Joanne gazed out into the dark night.

  The clock struck 11.30pm and its strike echoed about the silent house. Sternly she shook herself. Wasn’t the only reason she was here because Tom had gone missing? If she and Fabio had met Tom as planned, wouldn’t she now be asleep in her hotel room? Finally, as Fabio’s sincerity smothered doubts, her normal caution was swept away and she snapped alert. Tom would be hungry. He’d missed his evening meal at the café. Hadn’t Fabio told her to make herself at home?

  The act of occupying herself in a practical way lent strength of purpose as well as the thrill of working in Fabio’s kitchen. Pity we were so greedy she mused, eyeing the empty serving dish soaking in the sink. Quickly she selected pasta, tomatoes and a jar of sweet peppers, onions and garlic and discovered a block of Parmesan in the fridge. It would be a simple meal. Soon she’d assembled the ingredients, splashed olive oil in a heavy pan and boiled water for the pasta. With luck she’d have a hot dish ready for Tom.

  ***

  The buzzing noise of the engine grew louder as the little motor roared up outside and Joanne ran out to meet them. She saw Tom heave himself out of the car and spotted him wearing the fleece Fabio had taken from the back door. As her heart leapt to see Fabio her feelings for him were strengthened by his kind action.

  ‘Tom, how are you feeling?’ Joanne noted his pale, drawn face.

  ‘Lucky to have good friends!’ Tom smiled weakly.

  He clearly made an effort to sound cheerful and she caught sight of Fabio’s raised eyebrows as he shook his head behind Tom’s back.

  ‘Come inside and sit by the stove, Tom. Take things slowly, eh?’ He directed Tom into the house, sat him by the stove and then pulled a rug off the sofa to cover him.

  ‘I’ve made you something hot to eat Tom.’ Joanne glanced at Fabio for guidance.

  ‘A sensible thought, Joanne dear.’ Fabio looked at her fondly. He turned to Tom huddled under the rug. ‘Well get something hot inside you, Tom. I’ll fetch it on a tray.’ He took Joanne’s arm and hurried her to the kitchen. ‘I’ve missed you, my love.’ His cold breath fanned her cheek as he squeezed her waist and they exchanged a quick kiss. ‘And that looks so good; you’re a genius!’ He gazed in admiration at the food.