Читать книгу Dreams Of Tuscany - Kate Fitzroy - Страница 10
ОглавлениеAnother day, scorching hot but at least it was Sunday. Zoe awoke late and moved lazily around her small town house, making coffee and listening to music. She knew better than to eat breakfast when she was going to lunch with Paolo and his wife. Food would take up the rest of the day.
As she turned the jeep into the steep, rough road that led up to the Santinis’ sprawling farmhouse, Fidele stood up on the back seat and began an excited whimpering. As soon as the wheels stopped turning he leapt over to the front seat, jumped across Zoe, and galloped into the house. Zoe looked down and realised she had a large, dusty paw print in the middle of her white linen skirt.
‘Grazie, Fidele!’ she called after him, laughing. At least it didn’t matter a bit when lunching at the Santini home. Paolo and Serena came out to greet her and they exchanged kisses. Zoe handed over the flowers she had bought for Serena and then the four Santini children were all around them. Zoe had spent some time teaching English to the children, Alicia, Fortunata, Grazie and little Matteo. They were just about the nicest children she had ever met, self-confident and yet very polite. She handed out four little presents and some honey lollipops that she always brought them. They all moved into the shade of an enormous parasol where aperitifs were waiting. Zoe always relaxed completely in the company of the Santini family and soon she was laughing and enjoying herself so much that she didn’t hear the arrival of another car in the driveway. Paolo jumped up and exchanged a quick glance with Serena.
She nodded and continued talking with Zoe.
A few moments later Paolo returned with his arm across the shoulders of a young man. He called out before he reached the group.
‘Serena, guardi…Massimo e qui…e arrivato! Zoe, I want you to meet my friend, Massimo Mendozzi. He is a big-time Roman lawyer and he has just come to live in our little town of Siena!’
Zoe stood up and realised that she was being introduced to one of Paolo’s inspirations. She tried not to sigh as she held out her hand and shook the strong, tanned hand that stretched to meet hers. Strong indeed, Massimo squeezed her hand in his as though he would never let it go.
‘Piacere, Signorina Bennett, pleased to meet you. Paolo has told me all about you!’ He dipped his dark head forward in a small bow. Zoe almost flinched at his words. What on earth had Paolo said about her? Surely he wouldn’t have said she was lonely? Zoe looked across at Serena who smiled, almost apologetically, and then raised her shoulders in mock despair. Zoe looked back at the newly-introduced Massimo. She could hardly complain about Paolo’s choice for her blind date. Massimo Mendozzi was a typical Roman, not very tall but squarely built, his shoulders and chest filling out his pale blue Ralph Lauren polo shirt. The gleam of a gold chain showed around his strong neck and caught in the dark hair that curled on his chest. A perfect Roman nose between beautiful dark, brown eyes that shone with the confidence of a handsome and successful man. Immaculately dressed, even for a casual Sunday lunch in the country. Yes, he was any girl’s Italian dream. There were so many Italian dreams, Zoe thought idly to herself as they walked over to the long table set for lunch. Massimo deftly held her chair as she sat down and for one moment Zoe had the ridiculous idea that he was going to open up her napkin for her too. She almost giggled but managed to change it to a small cough. Why did good-looking Italian men always seem one step away from being waiters or hairdressers?
The lunch stretched long into the afternoon and the conversation, mainly in Italian, flew from one subject to another. Massimo lavished his attention on Zoe, but she noticed that he also listened and talked with all the children. She liked the way he gave them each his whole attention, taking them seriously and not talking down to them. It was an appealing quality and Zoe warmed to him. There was no doubt he was an attractive man. And there was even less doubt that he was interested in her. Unlike Alex Knight, Massimo jumped on every opportunity to look into her eyes and rest his hand over hers. All the approaches had been made, so it was no surprise when he asked her out.
‘My friend is giving a party tonight…what do you think, Zoe? Would you like to come? It would be the perfect way to end this lovely day! Do you like to dance?’
Maybe she had been in the countryside too long but the question struck her as almost funny.
‘Dance?’ she said in surprise. ‘Er – yes…I love dancing…but where?’ She looked around the wide view from Paolo’s house as though expecting to see a disco spring up in the middle of the fields. In fact, she knew there were clubs around in the countryside but it had never seemed to be her scene. She certainly couldn’t imagine the elegant and sophisticated Massimo Mendozzi hip-hopping in some rustic barn.
‘Not here…but near Florence. My friend is celebrating his thirtieth birthday… I’ve known him since we were at university together in Rome. Paolo, you must remember Flavio Luccio?’ Massimo turned to Paolo, as though for support.
‘Yes, si, si, certo, he study the environmental law…as you. I not know him well…me, I was in the most boring real estate department…not playing with the big rich boys. This Flavio, I remember well, he was the richest of the rich boys, no? His family from Florence…si, si…how do you say…Fiorentini ricchissimi!’
‘Yes, that’s right, Paolo, and the party’s in Florence.’
‘Florence!’ Zoe repeated. She knew she shouldn’t be surprised. She had lived in Italy long enough to know that they could jump in a fast car at any time of the day or night and head off in search of a good time.
‘Only an hour away. Come on, Zoe…just say yes…it will be fun.’ Massimo looked beseechingly at her with his shining, brown eyes.
Zoe looked doubtfully at Serena and Paolo, who both seemed to be holding their breath and waiting for her answer. She really couldn’t think of a sensible reason why she should say no. Why would she want to spend another restless, lonely night with only Fidele for company? Oh, Fidele…
‘What about Fidele?’ she burst out as a reply.
‘You want to bring your dog?’ Massimo asked in surprise. Everyone laughed at her words and his reply.
‘No, I was just thinking it would be a long time to leave him alone.’ Zoe smiled in embarrassment.
‘No problem, Fidele can have a sleep-over here with the kids!’ Serena smiled, seeming to give her approval to the whole idea.
‘Will you want to go home to change?’ Massimo asked.
‘Well, yes – I can’t go like this.’ Zoe looked down at her crumpled white linen skirt complete with Fidele’s paw mark.
‘I could pick you up about eight?’ Massimo offered.
‘Yes, that would be fine.’
And somehow it just seemed settled that she was going out with Massimo Mendozzi.
The conversation continued and soon, as the afternoon sun beat through the parasol, it was agreed that it was time for a swim.
Zoe went back to her jeep to find her swimsuit. There was a red Ferrari parked in the driveway. Yes, Zoe thought to herself, Massimo Mendozzi just had to have a Ferrari and it had to be red.
Serena came to meet her as Zoe walked back into the house.
‘Come and change in our bedroom,’ she said, leading the way. Zoe sensed there was some sisterly advice on its way and she wasn’t to be disappointed.
‘Are you happy to go out with Massimo tonight? I felt we rather talked you into it! Paolo and I have known Massimo’s family for as long as I can remember. He has been extremely well brought up. Too well if anything!’ Serena’s English was much better than her husband’s as she had worked for some years in the London fashion world before marrying Paolo. The rare occasions that she and Zoe got together on their own they enjoyed chatting in English.
‘What do you mean?’ asked Zoe, throwing her swim bag on the floor and sitting on the side of the large double bed that filled the Santinis’ low-ceilinged bedroom. Serena sat beside her and laughed.
‘Do you know what “mammismo” means?’
‘No, I’ve heard of machismo.’
‘Yes well if machismo means all-male virility and domination of women then mammismo means sort of the opposite.’
‘Are you trying to tell me that Massimo is gay?’ gasped Zoe. ‘He certainly doesn’t seem it!’
‘No, no!’ Serena giggled. ‘Definitely not gay…he’s always with some beautiful girl or other but it never lasts. Mammismo is when an Italian guy just can’t leave his mother’s influence…you say in English, tied to his mother’s apron strings. Massimo has a Mamma that is all the Italian mammas wrapped up in one. I can hardly believe he has managed this move to Siena without her. She rules his life!’
‘Oh right…he’s what we call a mummy’s boy!’ Zoe laughed too. ‘Is that all! Well, it could be worse nothing wrong with a young man respecting his Mamma! I am only going dancing with him and have no intention of competing to rule his life!’
‘You have no idea how bad it can get with these mammini or mummy’s boys. There are divorce cases nowadays where the mother-in-law’s intrusion is cited as a reason for breakdown of the marriage. I count myself lucky that my Paolo’s mother is a librarian and completely absorbed in her work.’
‘Well, anyway, I am not going to marry Massimo so his mother will have no need to worry!’
‘Well, you never know!’ Serena nudged Zoe with her elbow. ‘He is very dishy! Such beautiful eyes!’
‘Mmm!’ agreed Zoe. ‘He does have lovely eyes and good hands!’
‘Oh…you noticed his hands!’ giggled Serena. ‘He has a great body too!’
‘Really, Serena – you should be ashamed of yourself. You’re a respectable married woman!’
‘I know…and I’m quite satisfied with my lot. I’ll leave Massimo to you!’
She laughed as she stood up and left the room. A moment later she popped her head back and added, ‘I’ll leave him all to you…and his Mamma!’
Zoe changed quickly and then walked around the back of the house and towards the pool. She could hear the children’s high-pitched voices shouting with excitement. As she turned the corner she saw Massimo bouncing up and down on the diving board pretending to be too scared to dive in. Serena was right about his body, she thought, as she watched his outline against the clear, blue sky. He was wearing close-fitting dark blue swimming trunks and his dark, tanned skin glowed in the sunshine. As she watched he gave a final bounce and performed a neat somersault dive, entering the turquoise water with hardly a splash. Zoe watched as he swam fast underwater and then burst up through the surface between the children. With more shrieking and wild splashing he let them duck him under again. He surfaced with little Matteo on his shoulders and saw Zoe watching.
‘Eccola, here is la bella Zoe!’ he called out across the pool. ‘The water is perfect, Zoe, and so are you! Come on!’ He splashed her lightly with a spray of water.
Zoe ran to the end of the pool, along the diving board, bounced lightly and entered the water with a racing dive. Under the cool water she had just one moment to think to herself. ‘I rather like the mummy’s boy!’ before she surfaced and swam over to the children. Matteo, delighted to be on Massimo’s shoulders, waved excitedly to her.
‘See me, Zoe, guardami!’ He flipped a quick duck dive into the water and popped up beside Zoe, his face alight with laughter and energy, a miniature version of his father. Suddenly he saw his parents approaching the pool arm in arm.
‘Mamma, Mamma! Guardami, look at me, Mamma!’ he called out loudly. Serena sat on the steps of the pool and looked across at Zoe, shrugging her shoulders in mock despair. Zoe burst out laughing and so did Serena.
‘So what is so funny?’ asked Massimo.
Serena wiped tears of laughter from her face as she replied.
‘Come here, my little mammino, my little mummy’s boy!’ She scooped Matteo out of the water and gave him a big hug and then threw him back into the pool. Matteo bobbed up again and splashed his way back to Serena.
‘Encora, more – throw me in again! Mamma, Mamma!’ Serena did as he asked and then said to Zoe, ‘Mamma mia! It seems there is no way to get rid of my little mammino mummy’s boy!’ The two women laughed again and the two men remained puzzled.
‘I think is a girl joke thing, Massimo. Or some crazy English idiom?’ Paolo looked at Zoe in amusement and then bombed into the water just beside her, causing the water in the pool to lap over the sides.
Serena threw in a beach ball and then jumped in to join the fun. They began a crazy game of water polo based on no rules at all. Massimo threw the ball to Paolo and Zoe jumped high in the air and intercepted it. She held the ball a moment, looking around her at the happy faces of the children and the handsome, strong Italian faces of the adults. She punched the ball high into the air between them all and laughed as they all lunged and splashed to try to catch it. She felt a surge of grateful happiness – thankful for her good friends and their good intentions and not lonely at all.
At 7.30pm, Zoe was standing in her bedroom hurriedly drying her long hair. She looked into the mirror as she flicked the hair dryer around her head. Her silky hair flew madly into the air and Zoe tried unsuccessfully to tame it with a brush. Her skin had a new layer of tan from the afternoon in the pool and Zoe switched off the dryer and began to liberally apply after-sun cream. The house seemed strangely empty without Fidele padding around. The dog had jumped into the jeep when Zoe started up the engine to leave the Santinis’ home. When Serena had called him back, he had looked at Zoe reproachfully. Zoe sighed – she missed him too. Paolo would take him to the office tomorrow so it wouldn’t be for long. She frowned at herself in the mirror. There it was again, that sad, silly face and here she was getting ready to go out for the evening. Not only that, she only had ten minutes left to get ready. She threw open her wardrobe doors and flipped through the hangers of clothes. Most of her outfits were for work. And what does that tell me, Zoe thought to herself. She knew she really had only one choice. Her silk Versace had to be it.
She had bought the dress for a friend’s wedding a few months ago, and had never worn it since. Now was definitely the time to give it a second airing. She took it carefully from the wardrobe where it hung in a dry cleaner’s plastic cover. Well, that was one useful habit she had learnt from her distant, elegant mother, she thought to herself, as she remembered her mother’s impeccable wardrobe of clothes and immaculately packed suitcases of holiday outfits. She slipped on the ice blue shift and fastened the halter neck with the distinctive diamante and blue crystal Versace Medusa head clasp. She carefully pulled up the long back zip which had a miniature Medusa head at the top and a small crystal bauble. Now for her shoes…there they were, wrapped in the original tissue, nestling side by side in the Miu Miu box. Perhaps I am a mummy’s girl too, she thought as she unwrapped the shoes. She held them in her hand a moment, so light she could hardly feel them. The high heels, widening at the end, and the delicate ankle straps were of the softest silver kid. The simple bar across the front of the foot was lightly embossed with silver snakeskin markings. She slipped them on with pleasure and looked down. No time for nail varnish and anyway she decided that her feet were so tanned that she rather approved of her pale, pearly toenails. Zoe went over to the mirror and critically examined the final effect. She wasn’t a vain girl but when the doorbell rang at precisely 8pm she turned from the mirror with an air of confident self-satisfaction.
The hour’s drive to Florence passed in an easy exchange of conversation. Zoe enjoyed the luxury of the fast car and Massimo drove well. As they approached the outskirts of the city Massimo asked her if she would mind if he just made a phone call. He pressed the number one on his pre-set car phone and Zoe had to look out the side window to hide her amusement as he began to speak.
‘Ciao, Mamma! Come stai? Sono in Firenze…si, si, va bene!’
The conversation continued for several minutes, though it was obvious that Massimo’s mother did most of the talking. Finally he pressed the ‘off’ button and the only sound was the smooth throb of the engine as they drove downhill towards the outskirts of Florence.
‘That was my mother!’ Massimo broke the silence, stating the obvious.
‘Oh, right!’ Zoe replied, unable to think of a better reply.
‘She worries if I don’t call her every evening now that I have moved away from Rome.’
‘Oh, right!’ Zoe heard herself repeat ridiculously.
‘And she told me she has sent my shirts.’
‘Your shirts?’ Zoe repeated, unable to hide her puzzlement.
‘Yes, Saturday she sends my shirts, washed and ironed.’
‘You mean she washes your shirts and irons them for you and posts them?’ Zoe began to feel she had lost the art of conversation.
‘Well, we use a courier service.’
‘Oh, of course – a courier service,’ Zoe repeated, as if that made complete sense.
‘She loves to do it! Sometimes she sends a lasagne she has made or…porchetta alla Romana. There is nothing like her cooking. Next time she sends food you must taste it!’
‘I’d love that,’ Zoe replied politely, trying not to laugh aloud at the mental picture of parcels of the mummy’s boy’s shirts and joints of pork and lasagne buzzing up and down Italy by special courier.
‘I only wear Valentino shirts and I buy them a dozen at a time.’
‘Oh, right!’ Zoe’s language skills had zeroed but fortunately, at that moment, Massimo drew into the courtyard of an elegant floodlit Florentine villa. Definitely not a rave in a barn then.
A uniformed doorman came hastily to meet them and opened Zoe’s door. Massimo tossed the car keys to the man who gave a little bow and went round to the driving seat. Zoe noticed Massimo slip a banknote neatly into the doorman’s top pocket, then he turned to Zoe and took her arm.
‘Have I already told you that you are beautiful, Zoe?’
‘Only four or five times, I think!’ Zoe rested lightly on his arm as they walked up the steps to the large doorway. Another liveried servant held the door open and said, ‘Benvenuti da Villa di Travino!’
‘Signorita Bennett e Signor Mendozzi,’ Massimo answered formally, and the man immediately ushered them through the spectacular marble hall and out onto a terrace. Zoe drew in her breath in amazement at the scene that greeted them. Lanterns twinkled against the dusky twilight sky and hundreds of guests, dazzling in glamour and sophistication, were spread out across the wide terrace and formal gardens Most amazing of all was the panorama of the city roofs of Florence, still golden from the last rays of the setting sun and outlined against the faraway blue-grey hills. Before she could say a word, a voice called out from amongst the guests.
‘Massimo…ciao, Massimo!’ A young Italian, almost a double of Massimo, came running to them and threw his arms around Massimo in a bear hug. They laughed and exchanged kisses before Massimo turned to Zoe.
‘Flavio, this is Zoe Bennett. May I introduce you to the most beautiful girl in the world…and the one I want to marry!’
Flavio turned to her in surprise and when she offered her hand he dropped his head low and kissed it.
‘Congratulations!’
‘Oh no, please, Massimo is just joking…really, we only met today! Pleased to meet you.’ Zoe tried to recover her equilibrium but Massimo was still talking.
‘It’s true – we only met today but my mind is made up! Marry me she must!’
‘Massimo, stop this nonsense!’ Zoe turned to Flavio for help. ‘Does he always introduce his new girlfriends like this?’ She laughed, anxious to make light of the whole thing.
Flavio shook his dark head. ‘I can honestly say that in all the time I have known Massimo, I have never heard him utter the word marriage before!’
‘You can be my witness, Flavio, and use the evidence against me. I concede that I hadn’t actually had time to mention the matter to my prospective fiancée…but that is beside the point!’ Massimo laughed, his eyes shining.
‘Beside the point?’ Zoe repeated in mock amazement. ‘You could ruin my good name and I may have to sue you!’
‘Now that would probably be a mistake!’ smiled Flavio. ‘Our learned friend here, Dottore Massimo Mendozzi, has a formidable reputation for never having lost a case yet.’
‘Now, don’t embarrass me, Flavio. I have just been very lucky so far,’ Massimo replied.
‘I doubt luck comes into it all!’ Flavio turned to Zoe, his hand on Massimo’s shoulder. ‘This man is the new young star in environmental law.’
‘Environmental law – that must be an interesting and rewarding field to work in,’ Zoe replied seriously.
‘Believe me, Massimo is very well rewarded indeed!’ Flavio laughed.
‘Oh, I meant that saving the environment must have its own reward – not the money,’ Zoe said, slightly flustered. She looked down at her feet and wriggled her toes inside the silvery Miu Miu sandals.
‘Oh indeed, indeed. Massimo is just the man to save the world!’ Flavio slapped Massimo on the back, seeming to find the way the conversation had turned to be extremely amusing. Then he spoke more seriously and in a lower voice. ‘And, Massimo, we must get together early this week as the Valle dei Sogni project is roaring ahead.’
Zoe looked up quickly at the pair of them now talking together in rapid Italian, their dark heads close together. Had she really heard Flavio mention the Valle dei Sogni? She could hardly interrupt them to ask, and now Massimo was laughing again and raising his arms in mock resignation.
‘Enough, basta, Flavio! It’s your birthday and I refuse to think about work. Happy Birthday, buon compleanno!’
‘Grazie, grazie mille! You’re right – no more talk of work tonight but we must get together early in the week to meet with ENEL.’
‘I could manage a meeting Tuesday morning – let me know.’ Massimo turned to Zoe and added, ‘You see, my learned friend is a workaholic. If I give him half a chance he will never stop and the next thing I know we will be in a meeting over his birthday cake!’
‘You’re absolutely right – I rest my case but, by the way, Tuesday in my office at ten would be just fine!’
They all laughed and began to walk across the terrace towards the view. A waiter came over with a tray of champagne glasses glinting in the reflected light of the candles.
They each took a glass and raised them to each other but it was Massimo who made the toast.
‘To the beautiful girl of my dreams!’ he said, his large, brown eyes looking soulfully at Zoe. She sighed impatiently and for one moment felt a ridiculous desire to pour her champagne over his sleek head. Really, he’s looking at me just like Fidele, she thought to herself. She sipped the yeasty champagne and her thoughts fled for a moment to Fidele. Strange to think that the last two nights she had been alone with just a dog for company and now…she looked around…it was a wonderful night. The sun had now completely dropped behind the distant hills and the stars shone down out of a velvet, blue sky. It was a night to enjoy.
Massimo took Zoe’s hand and led her towards a noisy group of people, laughing and talking between the glowing lanterns. He introduced her to so many friends that she had soon lost count of their names. Everyone she met seemed to be fond of him and interested to meet her. They were mostly friends from his days at university and nearly all in the legal profession or politics. An influential, powerful band of intelligent young people who seemed to know how to work hard and obviously knew how to party. The food and wine, as was only to be expected at any event in Italy, were of the finest quality. The music came from a live band brought in from Rome. They seemed familiar with most of the guests and knew exactly what they wanted to dance to. Massimo was a great dancer and good company. He seemed to have forgotten his mad determination to marry her. Zoe soon forgot too and then she forgot work, loneliness, the derelict Villa Sognidoro and her fascination with Alex Knight. In her silvery Miu Miu shoes, she danced the night away.
