Читать книгу Dreams Of Tuscany - Kate Fitzroy - Страница 11

CHAPTER FOUR

‘Yes, it was a great evening!’ Zoe yawned and sipped her coffee, idly stroking Fidele’s large head as he sat at her feet. Paolo looked across the desk at her and raised his eyebrows.

‘If you not want to talk, Zoe, I understand. You not have to say a thing – not a thing!’

This was the third or fourth time that Paolo had interrupted their work and tried to find out exactly how her evening with Massimo had gone.

‘What can I say – Massimo is really nice, the party was fabulous – we had a great time!’ Zoe repeated, trying to put more emphasis into her words. Fortunately the phone rang before Paolo could ask for more details. Paolo held up his hand.

‘I take the call, Zoe…you finish your coffee!’

Zoe sighed with gratitude and leant back in her chair. It was all so true – it had been a magical night. The dancing had finally ended at three in the morning and Massimo had driven her back to Siena, music playing in the car as they were both too tired to talk. When he stopped the car outside her house there was silence for a moment and then he had taken her hand in his and kissed it lightly. The silence surrounded them and she knew he was waiting for her to ask him in for a coffee. She had lightly brushed his cheek with a goodnight kiss and told him she was very tired. He had agreed hurriedly and jumped out of the car to open her door for her. He stood close by her side as she unlocked her front door. Once more he had taken her hand in his and kissed it, raising his soulful brown eyes to her. She had again wished him goodnight and thanked him for a wonderful evening. He had stood obediently on the doorstep until she gently closed the door on him. Inside her house she had leant back against the door and listened to the noise of the throbbing Ferrari fade into the dawn. Zoe smiled to herself as she kicked off her shoes. Massimo was every centimetre the wellbrought-up perfect gentleman. His Mamma would have been proud of him.

Zoe smiled now to herself as she finished her coffee. It was probably not the passionately torrid end to the evening that Paolo was waiting to hear about. Suddenly she realised that Paolo was still talking on the phone and not only that – he was talking to Alex Knight. She sat bolt upright in her chair and listened attentively.

‘Yes, I understand Mr. Knight, of course I’ll look into it straight away. I’m very glad you like the Villa Sognidoro… Yes, an enormous project but well worth the effort. A beautiful residence. Yes, I’ll get back to you later today or early tomorrow morning. Goodbye!’

Paolo replaced the phone on the hook and found Zoe looking at him with round eyes.

‘What is it, Zoe? You are surprised your Mr. Knight is going to buy the Villa Sognidoro?’

‘Yes…well, no…well… I don’t know!’ A hundred questions flew through her mind but at that moment a large grey security van drew up outside the office, darkening the room. The office door opened and the uniformed and armed driver came in with a large parcel.

‘Signorina Zoe Bennett?’ He held out the parcel and a clipboard. Zoe signed for the parcel and the man left as quickly as he had come.

Paolo came across and looked at the parcel and said, ‘Is very big parcel, Zoe!’ He obviously couldn’t wait for her to open it. Zoe began to tussle with the wrapping and Paolo came to her aid with a paper knife. Between them they opened the box and revealed a huge bouquet of roses. Paolo looked at Zoe in puzzlement.

‘I never see before the flowers coming by Securicor? Why not the florist? Is there a note?’

‘I can’t see one but I am sure they are from Massimo – he has a special arrangement with Securicor.’

Zoe began to giggle as she lifted the huge bouquet out of the box. The roses were the darkest red she had ever seen – almost black. They were tied with a wide, black velvet ribbon and there was a small envelope attached. Zoe opened it and read the card: ‘To the most beautiful girl in the world and the one I want to marry – with all my love, Massimo.’ Zoe giggled again and passed the card to Paolo. His eyes opened wide as he read it.

‘Zoe – this is madness! Is true you are a beautiful girl but how can he talk of marriage – he met you only yesterday!’

‘I know, I know…’ Zoe shook her head in disbelief. Her life had definitely gone into a spin. She gently fingered the dark velvety roses and studied the imitation drops of water on the petals. The flowers were beautiful in every way – almost too beautiful. She slowly untied the ribbon and then almost dropped the roses as she found she was holding a bracelet that had fallen from the ribbon. She looked at it resting in her hand, heavy and brightly glinting. She held it out to Paolo and he took it from her.

‘Zoe, I think is diamonds! I think this is why he use the Securicor!’

‘I think so too! Oh dear, what shall I do?’

‘What happened last night, Zoe…did you…?

Zoe turned to Paolo, her eyes flashing angrily.

‘Nothing happened – we danced at this wild party until about three and then Massimo drove me home – he gave me a kiss on the cheek, the merest peck, and he left!’

‘Peck…what is this peck?’ Massimo looked at her in alarm.

Zoe burst out laughing.

‘Sorry, Paolo, just another ridiculous idiom. A peck is the smallest of kisses…a nothing of a kiss, I assure you!’

Paolo relaxed and shrugged his shoulders.

‘OK, I understand…but why he talk of marriage and send this bracelet?’

‘He’s mad! It seems just like he’s not grown up and yet…according to all his friends, he is obviously a first-class lawyer.’

‘Certainly that – he has come to Siena to head up some sort of environmental council.’

‘That reminds me…last night I overheard him mention the Valle dei Sogni when he was talking with his friend Flavio.’

‘Valle dei Sogni? You sure?’

‘Well, I think so…yes, I’m sure I did. The Villa Sognidoro had been on my mind all day so I suppose I may have imagined it.’

The phone rang and interrupted their conversation and the day caught up with them. There wasn’t another moment to think about anything but work and more work. The heat was relentless and the office air-conditioning inadequate. By lunchtime they were both hungry, hot and tired. Paolo stood up from his desk and stretched.

‘Basta, enough, enough! If the phone rings again just don’t answer it. Why don’t you come back to the farm – have a swim and stay for lunch?’

Zoe looked at him gratefully.

‘Are you sure? Should you ring Serena first?’

‘Of course not – she’s always asking me to bring you up for lunch and maybe you ask her about what to do with the mad Massimo?’

‘That’s such a good idea, Paolo. Thanks so much.’

Zoe snatched up the diamond bracelet and bunch of flowers and, with Fidele trotting happily behind, followed Paolo out of the office.

Zoe floated on her back in the cool water of the Santinis’ pool and looked up at the deep blue sky. Why couldn’t life be simple? Why couldn’t she just fall in love at first sight with Massimo Mendozzi?

Later over lunch it seemed that Serena had the same thought.

‘He really is a nice boy, you know! Good-looking, wellbrought-up, hard-working and so clever… He’s certainly heading for the top of the legal world. He sends you flowers and diamonds and proposes marriage… I’m not sure I see the problem. It’s like a dream!’

‘Exactly!’ said Zoe, ‘adream or a silly romantic love story. It’s just not real. He can have no idea that he truly wants to marry me. It’s just some crazy idea. Anyway – it’s just ridiculous. I have no intention of even going out with him again and certainly will never marry him!’

‘Then that is that!’ Paolo said with satisfaction. ‘Leave it to me, Zoe. I will take him the bracelet and tell him to give up before it begins.’

‘Would you? Oh, Paolo, would you really do that?’

‘No problem! Also I ask him about the Valle dei Sogni – I must begin official searches for Mr. Knight anyway. No worry – leave everything to me!’ Paolo slapped his hand enthusiastically on his own chest.

Serena looked across the table at Zoe and smiled, raising her shoulders in mock despair as she said, ‘Don’t overcook it, Paolo. Keep to the simple truth. Didn’t you tell that client, Mr. Knight, that Zoe was your wife last time you tried to help? You always complicate things with the best of intentions.’

Zoe took a deep breath. Should she tell her good friends how she felt about Alex Knight? How could she confess that she had fallen head over heels at first sight – especially as she had just scoffed at Massimo falling in love the same way with her. How could she manage to let Alex know that she definitely wasn’t Paolo’s wife or anyone else’s? Her head was spinning with unanswerable questions and the conversation was continuing without her.

‘…so Mr. Knight is coming back at the end of the week,’ Paolo was saying. ‘Zoe scared him, you know. He only wants to meet with me!’

‘Did he say that?’ Zoe asked in surprise. ‘Really, he only wants to deal with you? I thought we got on very well!’

‘I joking, Zoe!’ laughed Paolo. ‘We arranged to meet at the Villa on Friday. You can come along too…it may be a good help as I think he bringing his baby.’

‘Baby?’ Zoe’s eyes stretched in surprise. ‘What do you mean?’ Sometimes Paolo’s power of the English language left much to be desired. Had he suddenly lapsed into American film talk?

‘What I say – he bring his little girl, sua filia.’ Paolo pronounced the words with care. ‘He not say his wife but maybe she comes too. I not know…but is dangerous at the villa – such a ruin! Maybe you can help keep eyes on his daughter?’

‘His daughter?’ Zoe repeated the word and looked so dismayed that Serena leaned across the table towards her and said,‘Zoe, you are very interested in this Mr. Knight? Do I detect further romance in the air?’

‘No, no of course not. I’m just surprised that Alex…Mr. Knight didn’t mention his family. We had lunch at Luigi’s and…’ Zoe faltered to a stop and then continued on another tack. ‘And then he said he had to get back that night to England…but the next day, by chance, I saw him at the hotel where the Partridges are staying. I suppose I thought he had lied about that and…well, I don’t know…that he wasn’t a genuine buyer and that he was just wasting everyone’s time – roaming around Tuscany chasing some romantic dream.’

She looked up and found Serena and Paolo both looking at her with expressions she found hard to read. Zoe decided it was time to change the subject.

‘By the way, the Partridges have fallen in love with the mill house. They’ve asked me to find a notaio and to get going as fast as possible with the conveyancing.’

‘You tell me already, Zoe,’ said Paolo, frowning. ‘I think you changing of the subject!’

Sometimes Paolo was just too clever, thought Zoe to herself as she began to clear the dishes from the table. Serena stood up and together they carried the remains of the lunch into the kitchen. Paolo watched them, leaning back in his chair, and said, ‘Is a wonderful sight – two beautiful women going into the kitchen to work!’

Serena turned back to him and deftly tipped the water carafe over his head.

‘Now, go and have a swim and then make us some coffee!’ she said calmly as he leapt up, shaking himself like a dog.

The two women were still laughing as they stacked the dishwasher and put the remaining food in the refrigerator.

‘So – poor Massimo!’ Serena couldn’t resist returning to the subject. ‘He’s going to be disappointed. I’m not sure it won’t be the very first time that he won’t get what he wants!’

‘He certainly has the air of being rather a spoilt young man. Can you believe he actually sends his dirty shirts to his mother in Rome every week – she sends them back hand-laundered and accompanied with samples of home-cooking…by Securicor!’

‘No! It’s not true?’ Serena burst out laughing and collapsed onto a kitchen chair. ‘Well, I warned you he was un mammino, but I never could believe he was so much of a mummy’s boy.’

‘Oh – it’s mean to laugh at him, I suppose. We had a wonderful evening in Florence. His friends all love him…it’s just…’ Words failed her and she too sat at the kitchen table. Serena looked up at her, mopping the tears of laughter from her face with a tea towel.

‘Poor Massimo…well, at least he will have his friends to console him over losing you!’

‘And he always has his Mamma!’ added Zoe, laughing too.

Serena began to laugh all over again and could hardly get the words out,‘I’ve…oh dear…I’ve just thought of something…his Mamma chose his name well…oh dear….just change two letters…Massimo-mammissimo…oh dear…mamma mia!’ The two women were rocking with laughter as Paolo came into the kitchen, dripping wet and wrapped in a towel. He looked at them fondly.

‘Coffee then?’

Refreshed from her lunch with such good friends, Zoe returned to her afternoon appointment with renewed energy and determined not to let herself dwell on the news that Alex Knight was a married man with a daughter. She was meeting the Partridges at 3pm, once more at their hotel. As she drove into the car park she thought back to her last visit – when she had seen Alex Knight just pulling away. Away and out of her life forever. Zoe sighed and shook her head, trying to rid herself of the feelings he evoked in her. Why did life always have to be so difficult? Why did all the most interesting men have to be married? She blinked away a tear of self-pity and suddenly Fidele jumped through from the back seat and rested his big head on her shoulder. She stroked him for a moment then pulled herself together. She locked the car and, with Fidele close at her heels, she went into the cool foyer of the hotel. Why couldn’t Alex Knight suddenly appear on the terrace, unmarried and free to love her? Reality struck home as Mr. Partridge, very married, large and friendly, appeared in front of her. Zoe sighed wistfully, wondering for a moment why she was doomed to play the wrong part in a romantic novel, before giving all her attention to the Partridges and their purchase of the old mill house.

‘There you are, my dear! Always perfectly on time and as pretty as a picture, isn’t she, Geoffrey?’

‘She certainly is… Now, can we offer you a coffee or a cold drink?’ Mr. Partridge pulled out a chair for her and she joined them at their table set in the shade of a dark blue awning.

‘A cold juice would be very good, thank you.’ Zoe smiled at the Partridges as they beamed at her, feeling comforted by the homely good will they exuded. What must it be like to have parents like this, she wondered? As though reading her thoughts, Mrs. Partridge said, ‘It must be hard working away from home – all on your own at your age.’

‘Oh no, not at all…it’s the way of life I chose. I feel independent and perfectly happy,’ Zoe replied, her voice not ringing with as much conviction as she had hoped. ‘Anyway, my parents have always led their own lives and I have never been around them very much.’

‘Oh, I see,’ Mrs. Partridge said in a voice that sounded as though she wasn’t convinced, then she continued, ‘Do you mean you were away at school?’

‘Yes, I first boarded when I was only nine.’

‘Just fancy, nine years old! Well, I suppose it was what they thought best.’

‘I suppose so, they travelled a lot together – I don’t think I really fitted into their lifestyle. My father is an architect and he worked all over the world – India, Saudi, Hong Kong…bridges mostly.’

‘Well, that would explain it… I expect they went to some difficult places – not where a little girl would get a good education and they thought you’d be better off in a good solid school.’

‘Yes I suppose so,’ Zoe agreed reluctantly and then added in a voice stifled with anger, ‘More because they were everything to each other and I was just in the way!’

‘You may be right, Zoe…but it’s all in the past now and at least you had parents that did love each other. Not everyone can say that nowadays, with so many marriages ending in divorce.’

‘That’s true actually – when I was with them I certainly never heard a cross word between them and of course they loved me in their own vague way.’

‘I’m sure they did, Zoe or you wouldn’t be such a sweet girl now.’ Mrs. Partridge smiled fondly at Zoe and patted her on the arm. Zoe looked at her gratefully and a small part of a knot that she carried tied inside her began to dissolve. Maybe she would phone home this evening. As though, once again, she read her thoughts, Mrs. Partridge added, ‘If ever I have the chance to meet your mother I shall tell her that her daughter is a treasure. We’d have given up long ago on finding our Tuscan dream house without Zoe’s help, wouldn’t we, Geoffrey?’

‘Oh yes, you’ve been a wonder. Patient and kind – not like any estate agent I’ve ever met before! Now, here come those drinks and we can all do with wetting our whistles after all that philosophising. That’s what I call it when my Linda gets going.’ Mr. Partridge leant forward and planted a kiss on Mrs. Partridge’s cheek. ‘She sorts me out too, don’t you, my love?’

Mrs. Partridge giggled and gave him an affectionate slap. Zoe looked at them both and wondered if her parents’ marriage was anything at all like this. If she closed her eyes she could drag up a dim picture of her parents sitting in their study, one each side of a big desk, perfectly at one, passing each other books and nodding quietly. It was a long way from kissing and friendly slaps but it was a good marriage. A good example? Zoe didn’t have time to ponder her own question as Mr. Partridge was raising his glass.

‘Here’s to life in Italy and everybody’s dreams coming true!’

They all raised their glasses and then sipped the cold drinks. Zoe stood up and led Fidele over to the back of the villa to find him a bowl of water. When she returned to the table she spoke first.

‘I think I’m very lucky to be in Italy…especially when the clients are as kind as you are! But you’re right, Mrs. Partridge, only the other day I did feel some sort of homesickness for good old England and its grey skies and I think I’ll phone my parents tonight.’

‘Please call me Linda, my dear, and my husband is Geoffrey. I hope when we get the mill house all sorted out you’ll be a frequent visitor. We expect to spend several months of the year here.’

‘That would be very nice – thank you!’ replied Zoe, slightly surprised herself to find that she really meant it. She had sold many houses to English clients but had normally spent her time dodging them afterwards.

Linda Partridge smiled at her. ‘We said the same to that nice Mr. Knight, didn’t we, Geoffrey? We thought he was such a nice chap but very lonely.’

Zoe’s heart thumped as the mention of his name and she sipped her drink before answering as casually as she could.

‘But won’t he be out here with his wife…and I hear he has a little daughter, too?’

‘Didn’t you know? His wife was killed in a car accident just over a year ago. Of course, we didn’t mention it but as soon as I heard his name I remembered the incident. It was in all the papers – absolutely tragic, wasn’t it, Geoffrey?’

‘Tragic!’ agreed Mr. Partridge. ‘Young man like that left with a two-month-old baby and they’d hadn’t long been married…absolutely tragic!’

‘I couldn’t help thinking that’s why his hair was that dark grey – the shock you know!’ Mrs. Partridge shook her head sadly, then added, ‘Didn’t you know, Zoe?’

‘No, no I know nothing about him. He was just a client appearing out of the blue. I didn’t even know he was a film writer.’

‘Well, I believe he’s had difficulty getting back to work and, of course, that’s understandable. Still, with all the Agatha Christie film scripts he’s already done he certainly can’t need to work for a while.’ Mr. Partridge added, ‘Must have earned a packet already!’

‘He was so upset that night, wasn’t he, Geoffrey? When his flight was cancelled. He had wanted to get back to England to be with his little daughter for Saturday. That’s what he said, didn’t he, Geoffrey? Always took her out Saturday mornings – I thought that was so sweet, you know. Anyway he tried to get a flight from Pisa and then Rome but finally he gave up and settled for the flight from Florence the next day. Very aggravated he was – that’s why we asked him to join us for a drink. It was as though he needed to talk to someone, wasn’t it, Geoffrey?’

‘You calmed him down, my dear, in your own special way. Then he took up your idea, too. He phoned the nanny from his mobile and arranged to have her come in a taxi with the little girl to meet him at the London zoo for a day out. We could hear it all sorted out and Alex calmed down and began to relax. He told us then about the villa he wanted to buy…that dark old ruin you showed us, Zoe. My goodness he’ll need some vision and a lot of his film money to put that to rights!’

‘Oh, it’ll all sort out, you’ll see,’ said Mrs. Partridge comfortably.

Zoe’s mind reeled as she tried to absorb all the new information. So Alex Knight was a widower with a little daughter. He had really intended to fly back to England that night. She had been wrong to think he had lied about that. In fact, she had been wrong about practically everything concerning Alex Knight – except that she found him irresistible.