by T A Williams
‘I didn’t dare – everybody would realise what an awful actor I am. Don’t laugh! I’m doing climatology. It seemed like a useful thing to learn about, seeing as the Earth is busy burning itself up.’
‘Terrific, Richie, really. Well done, and you’re a great actor.’ Although terribly low on self-esteem. ‘I’m so impressed.’ She saw him smile shyly again and was reminded of the insecure little boy she had once thought she loved, lurking beneath his handsome grown-up exterior. ‘Have you got long to go?’
‘September’s the start of my final year, but I’ve got a whole bunch of reading to get through over the summer.’
‘And if Pals Forever goes ahead, what happens then?’
‘I’ve already talked to them and they say they’ll let me take a couple of years out before picking up the course again if necessary. So it’s all good.’
Alice dropped her towel on a sunbed alongside Millie and walked down the steps into the water, relishing the refreshing feel after her walk in the hot sunshine. As she swam up and down the pool, she wondered if the Labrador next door had somewhere to swim – she knew that an obsession with water was typical of the breed. She stubbornly refused all attempts by her brain to think about the dog’s master. She was in a relationship with David and that was that.
At least for now.
Finally, she climbed back out of the pool and dabbed herself dry, before stretching out on her sunbed. She closed her eyes and started thinking about yet another man who wasn’t her boyfriend: Richie. She was really pleased that he appeared to have successfully turned his life around and she applauded his decision to go back to college. If the new series took off, she would find herself in very close contact with him – probably fairly intimate contact, if they were indeed trying for a baby in the show. How did she feel about that? Was there any lingering attraction?
As soon as that thought came to her, she shook her head angrily, doing her best to dislodge it. She was here with David. Why had she suddenly started having these kinds of thoughts about two other men, while she was still in a good, solid relationship? And it was a good, solid relationship, wasn’t it? Had all her common sense started to desert her because she was back in the Hollywood bubble? She growled to herself in frustration.
‘Something wrong, Al?’ Her train of thought was interrupted by Millie’s voice alongside her. ‘What’s all the growling about?’
‘Nothing, Mil. Just thinking about Zoë, I’m afraid.’ The little white lie was definitely preferable to admitting that she had been hallucinating about two men, neither of whom was the one waiting upstairs in her bedroom. What on earth was going on inside her head? She did her best to sound normal as she hastily changed the subject. ‘What are you reading?’
Millie held up the paperback and Alice recognised the cover immediately. The Playboy and His Women had been an international bestseller for some years now, allegedly turning its author into a multi-millionaire. She hadn’t read it and had no desire to do so. From what she had heard, it was a bitterly depressing attack upon the concept of love, romance and relationships – at least from a male perspective. Whatever women told themselves, the book made it brutally clear that all most men wanted was sex. Although this pretty much matched up with a lot of her experiences of men over the years, until she had met David, she saw no reason to read anything so cynical.
‘Why on earth are you reading that crap, Mil?’
‘I bought it at LAX before I left. I needed something to read on the plane. And it’s not crap. It’s pretty bleak, but he’s not that far off the mark.’ She caught Alice’s eye. ‘His main character, Justin, reminds me of a lot of the men I’ve dated.’ She gave a little sigh. ‘I’ve almost finished it. I’ll let you have it when I get to the end. Really, it’s a good read and they say there’s going to be a movie next year.’ She dropped the book onto her lap and looked across at Alice. ‘Anyway, what do you think Zoë’s going to tell us tomorrow?’
‘Hopefully, that she’s decided to give up and pass the new series over to another director, but don’t hold your breath.’ She caught Millie’s eye and winked. ‘Tomorrow morning’s going to be an interesting meeting.’
‘It certainly will be. By the way, Paolo said that tonight we’re having a barbecue. Maybe Zoë will get plastered and tell us all about it over dinner.’
* * *
The barbecue was amazing.
The chef had prepared a variety of kebabs – some laden with beef and others alternating chunks of chicken with vegetables from the villa garden. Some were made up of baby octopus, squid and prawns, along with cherry tomatoes and green peppers. To be on the safe side, some were straight vegetarian. There was grilled pecorino cheese, little wild boar sausages and, for any homesick Americans, home-made burgers complete with bacon and cheese. Tonight, as well as wine, there was ice-cold German beer in huge glass mugs for those who wanted it, and the whole thing was accompanied by a selection of salads and a mountain of fries.
Alice helped herself to a couple of the kebabs and half a slice of hot cheese and sipped her beer, which was excellent. She grabbed a beer for David and pressed it into his hand.
‘It’s beer, not wine, so I won’t be slapping you, unless you’re into that sort of thing.’ She was feeling really guilty after all her thoughts about other men, so she reached up and gave him a smacking kiss that clearly surprised him.
He glanced back at her. ‘What was that for?’
‘No reason. Enjoy your beer.’
Tonight there were several little tables strewn around the terrace and they took their seats with Millie. Seconds later, Richie appeared with Carrie and politely asked if they could sit down with them. Carrie had more salad than meat on her plate, while his was piled high with fries and the biggest burger Alice had seen since her days in the USA. The thing was almost as big as the litre of beer alongside it.
‘Blimey, Richie, are you going to be able to manage all that?’
Carrie answered for him. ‘He’ll manage. I’ve never seen somebody so slim eat so much and not get fat.’ She caught Alice’s eye and grinned. ‘It’s not fair.’
Alice’s attention was then gripped by a little cameo playing out at the table opposite them. Layla, resplendent in yet another designer dress, had taken a seat there and was looking at something on her phone. As she did so, Harry appeared on the terrace and helped himself to a big mug of beer from Paolo. He stood there for a moment, checking Layla out, before taking a few big mouthfuls for Dutch courage and heading across to her table.
‘Um, Layla, do you mind if I sit with you?’ He sounded unusually hesitant. Layla’s head jerked up and Alice caught her breath, waiting for the explosion. The divorce had been caused by his multiple infidelities, after all. Time stood still for what seemed like an age, before Layla’s face cleared and she waved dismissively towards the seats opposite her.
‘Sit where you like, Harry.’ And she returned to her phone.
Harry swallowed another huge draught of beer and sat down. As he did so, Zoë came out onto the terrace, accepted a glass of red wine from Rosanna and went across to Layla’s table.
‘You two not eating?’ She sounded amiable enough. ‘Something smells good.’
As if only just realising there was food on offer, Harry jumped to his feet and nodded. ‘Good idea. Can I bring you anything?’ Layla ignored the question and Zoë shook her head, so he went over to the table alongside the barbecue, where Paolo was serving the food. Zoë sat down opposite Layla and swallowed half her wine in one go. She either really liked wine or was nervous – either way, it looked promising. Maybe Millie’s prediction that she might drink too much and spill the beans was going to come true.
Alice felt a touch on her arm. It was Millie. ‘I think that’s the first thing Layla and Harry have said to each other since we got here.’ She was whispering, but Richie must have heard and he leant across the table towards the two of them.
Keeping his voice equally low, he added. ‘That’s progress. He r
olled up at a party she was at a couple of years ago and she threw an ice bucket at him… and it was full.’
A minute or two later Antonia and Benny arrived, and Alice took the fact that they were together and talking as a good sign. She knew full well that his scripts would be every bit as important to the success of the new show as any one of the actors. The two of them collected plates of food and drinks, and sat down together on another table. As Antonia passed the other two tables, she raised her wine glass in a little salute. So far so good, Alice told herself. For now, at least, peace would appear to have broken out and she settled down to eat her meal.
Chapter 8
When Alice left David in bed next morning at eight o’clock and went downstairs, there was no sign of Harry, so she went for a run by herself. Although she rather liked the idea of seeing the Labrador again, she deliberately decided not to run up towards the neighbour’s estate, just in case the fair-haired man might be there. She felt strongly that the unexpected frisson of attraction she had felt for him was just plain wrong for somebody in a relationship as she was, so she set off in the opposite direction. Using the key code, she let herself out of the same side gate she had used on her way to the village but, this time, instead of heading downhill, she turned left and started jogging uphill along the track. Everything she passed was bone dry and she wondered when it had last rained here. Although there were no clouds in the sky, it was a bit hazier this morning, and the air felt clammy and humid. Maybe there was a storm on the way. Of course, she reminded herself, at ten o’clock they were scheduled to have the big meeting chaired by Zoë and there was the very real likelihood that a storm would erupt in there, irrespective of what the weather outside was doing.
She climbed steadily, speeding up as she fell into her regular cadence, and breathed deeply, savouring the aroma of wild rosemary in the air. After a little while, the track joined the road that passed the main entrance to the villa and carried on upwards. She stayed on the narrow road and didn’t see a single vehicle. It took another ten minutes or so to reach the top of the hill and she allowed herself a short breather at the point where the road curved sharply to the right and began to drop steeply away into the next valley, while a gravel track led off to the left. This track, she told herself, headed roughly in the direction of the villa, and it was also pointing directly at the old tower, which she now realised wasn’t really at the top of a hill, but on a spur sticking out from the hillside. Either way, it occupied an exceptional defensive position and no doubt this had been the reason its original builders had chosen the spot.
The view from up here was spectacular. Although Villa delle Vespe, directly below her, was concealed by the curve of the hillside and the dense woods that covered this part of the slope, the view into the distance was superb. To the east, rank upon rank of green hills finally melded into a darker mass that she felt pretty sure had to be the Apennines. On the other three sides it was all remarkably empty and altogether very rural: trees, fields, hills and woods were interspersed with a scattering of red-brick farmhouses and occasional small villages. For somebody who had spent most of her life in big cities, this landscape was completely different, alluring and maybe just a tiny bit intimidating. There was no noise apart from the omnipresent bees and invisible little birds twittering from the bushes – no rumble of traffic, no aircraft overhead, no human voices. She could have been the last person on Earth, and for a second or two she felt really alone, but then, just to prove her wrong, she heard the unmistakable sound of a vehicle approaching.
A cloud of dust rising up through the trees along the line of the track to her left indicated where the car was coming from and she stepped off the road onto the dry grass verge to let it pass. When it came into view, she saw at once that it was a battered old Land Rover – no doubt a sensible vehicle in this sort of terrain once the rains came. There was no roof on the vehicle and, as it drew closer, she saw a movement inside: a black shadow reared up on the front passenger seat, put his big paws on the dashboard and his head popped up above the screen. There could be no doubt who this was, and she felt her heart give an involuntary – and most unwelcome – leap when her eyes landed on the driver. As he drew up alongside her, she saw recognition on his face.
‘Good morning – out for a run before the rain comes?’
It took her a moment to realise that he had addressed her in English – fluent UK English, without any particular regional inflection. While she was still trying to get her head around this, Guinness the dog started barking happily and bouncing up and down on the passenger seat, his tail wagging furiously. She leant over the side of the vehicle and made a fuss of him. As she did so, she became acutely conscious that she was streaming with sweat and not exactly at her most appealing. Still, she told herself, the dog didn’t mind and what this man thought was unimportant. Guinness by now was balancing his forepaws on the top of the door and doing his best to reach out and kiss her, fortunately his master showed no such signs of open affection. He did, however, allow himself a smile at the antics of the dog. Alice smiled back.
‘Good morning, Guinness, and good morning to you.’ Since she didn’t know his name, she made an attempt to rectify that. ‘By the way, my name’s Alice.’ She wondered if he had maybe already recognised her face, but she decided to tell him anyway. From his reaction, her name meant nothing to him.
‘Hi, Alice, I’m Matt – short for Matthew.’
‘I’m pleased to meet you, Matt, short for Matthew. So, what’s a Brit doing in the wilds of Tuscany?’
‘It’s a long story. I’ll bore you with it some other time.’
She noted his reluctance to talk about himself, so she didn’t press him. ‘Is Guinness your dog? I wasn’t sure if he belonged to you or the other gentleman.’
He nodded. ‘Yes, he’s my dog and my best buddy. And what about you? Where are you going on your run?’
‘I’ve just come up the road and I was wondering if there’s any way this track you’ve just come along might lead me back towards the villa.’
She saw him nod. ‘The gates to your place all have combination locks. Do you have the code? I imagine they’ll all be the same. Well, there’s a path leading off left, just as you reach the drive leading up to my house. Go down there for a hundred yards or so and you’ll come to the gate.’
‘Thank you.’ She hesitated, not really knowing why she still hadn’t moved – except for the dog, of course. By this time Guinness was scrabbling, trying to get his hind legs on the top of the door as well as his front paws and it looked as though he was preparing to launch himself bodily into her arms, so she leant forward and gently returned him to a safer position on the front seat. She glanced across at his master. ‘I’d hate to see Guinness fall out onto the road.’
‘It hasn’t happened yet, but I’ve never seen him up on top of the door like that. He must really have taken a liking to you.’
‘Well, I love him, too – he’s a sweetie.’ Keen not to spend too much time with this unknown man, however sweet his dog might be, she decided to make a move. ‘Anyway, I’d better be off. Have a good day.’ She gave the dog a final cuddle and turned away.
As she set off down the track, she heard the engine rev as the vehicle pulled out onto the road and the noise gradually diminished, until silence returned. She jogged along the track, her head filled with mixed emotions. The overriding feeling was one of mystification. For whatever reason, this man had managed to get under her skin and risked stirring feelings in her that she hadn’t felt for ages… not since first meeting David – or maybe not ever, if she were honest. How this could happen after barely a few minutes’ exposure to him remained a mystery but, she told herself firmly, she was here with another man, so she would do well just to dismiss Matt from her mind.
Easier said than done.
After a couple of hundred yards of rough track, tall wooden gates set in hefty stone walls announced the entrance to his home. She saw a metal postbox bolted to one of the gatepost
s and, out of curiosity, she slowed down and went over to check the name on it. There was no name: just one word written on it – Torre, the Italian word for tower. Clearly, he valued his privacy.
She peered through the narrow gap between the gate and the post and saw a gravelled drive leading up through the trees to the base of the tower. Even from a distance, viewed through a two-inch aperture, the place looked amazing. For somebody with an interest in history, it was fascinating. Entirely built of stone, it was higher than she had imagined, probably as tall as a three- or even four-storey building. The windows at the lower levels were little wider than arrow slits, while the upper floors had larger openings and the views from up there must have been spectacular. It would have been wonderful to get the chance to see for herself but that, she knew full well, wasn’t going to happen. She gave a little sigh and headed down the path he had indicated, back in the direction of the villa.
* * *
That morning’s meeting turned out to be not so much a storm as an unstoppable tsunami. Antonia was nowhere to be seen and from the very first minute Zoë took charge. She talked – or, more precisely, preached – for two hours almost without a break, laying down how she saw the series developing, refusing questions and silencing any opposition. Any lingering hopes they might have been nursing that she had mellowed over the past five years or that she might be handing the directorial reins over to somebody else were soon dashed. As the morning’s sermon progressed, the others exchanged ever gloomier looks and a mood of grim depression settled upon them all.
As the church bell in the village chimed midday, Zoë finally swept out of the room, leaving them in stunned silence that lasted for several minutes, before Benny put everybody’s thoughts into words. First, predictably, there was an outburst of heartfelt and inventive expletives, and then he gradually settled down.
