T Williams - What Happens In Tuscany...

‘I’ll get there before too long. If I had a Martin sniffing around me I wouldn’t say no, and that’s for sure. For crying out loud, Katie; strap on a pair, will you?’

‘A pair of what?’ Martin reappeared with a pint of lager in his hand. If he noticed their embarrassment he was good enough not to show it. ‘All right if I join you? Not interrupting anything, am I?’

They waved him to a seat. He took a mouthful of beer then set his glass down on the table. He looked across at Katie. ‘So, anything good on the jobs front?’ She shook her head and gave him a brief rundown of the three possibles. He shook his head in sympathy. ‘Doesn’t sound too good. Of course, you could always go back to uni, take a conversion course and do law. Only a year and you’d be a more marketable proposition.’

‘You make it sound as if I’m selling myself.’ Katie reached for her wine.

‘Well, if you were, I’d be the first to make you an offer.’

Jenny sat up. So she had been right. This tall, handsome man was making a play for Katie. Surreptitiously, she studied her friend, who was doing her unsuccessful best to avoid showing that she was blushing. Seeing her embarrassment, Jenny came to her rescue.

‘What about you, Martin? Thinking about giving up the legal profession and becoming a professional rugby player?’

He dragged his eyes away from Katie, turned towards her and shook his head. ‘No way, Jenny. I’ve had so much injury trouble this year, I don’t think I’d hack it in the professional leagues. Have you seen the size of some of those guys?’ His hand strayed to his bruised face. ‘Besides, if I was going to do that, it should have been ten years ago, maybe more. Thirty-one is not the age to try something like that. No, I’m pretty happy as a solicitor, just like my dad and my big brother.’

Katie glanced gratefully across at Jenny, glad of the change of subject. ‘My dad was a solicitor. He was always on at me about studying law. I’m beginning to think he might have been right after all. Forget languages, forget the humanities, do something that’ll pay well. The trouble is, I haven’t got the funds to take a year out to retrain. I’m afraid I’ll have to keep looking for something that’ll pay the bills for now.’

‘Can’t you ask your dad?’ When they were younger, Jenny had often visited the big house where Katie’s folks lived, up on the cliffs with a view out over the sea. Katie shook her head.

‘That’s the real last resort. I got myself into this mess and it’s up to me to get myself out of it.’ Jenny gave her a smile. Katie could be stubborn when she wanted.

‘There’s more to life than money, Katie. It can’t buy happiness, or so they say.’

‘It can make unhappiness a hell of a lot more comfortable, though.’

Chapter Two

‘Miss Katherine Parr?’

It was a man’s voice, the accent difficult to pinpoint, maybe Scottish. Katie looked up hastily. She was standing on the platform, still checking that she had remembered to take all her luggage when she left the train. She had always had a fear of leaving something behind and only realising as the train pulled away from the station. She straightened up and studied the man who had addressed her. To her amazement, he was dressed like Toad of Toad Hall. He was wearing a flat tweed cap and heavy leather gloves, although the temperature that sunny July evening was still well into the twenties. All he needed was a pair of airman’s goggles and he would have looked the part perfectly. She cleared her throat.

‘Hello. Yes, I’m Katherine Parr. Have you come to take me to Iddlescombe?’

‘Yes, Miss. My name is Mackintosh.’ Yes, definitely Scottish. Mr Mackintosh nodded gravely and reached out for her two bags. She made a half-hearted attempt to take the smaller one, but his gloved hands were obviously attached to strong arms, and he whisked them away without appreciable effort. ‘If you would care to follow me, Miss.’

The station at Nymptonford was squeezed into the bottom of a wooded valley, between the road and the river. The evening sun at that time still illuminated the surrounding hills, but no longer reached into the valley floor. The air was refreshingly cool after the heat of the train whose air conditioning hadn’t been working. Katie breathed in deeply, glad to be outside. As she followed her driver off the platform, through the small Victorian waiting room and onto the forecourt, she got another surprise. Clearly her journey up to the house was going to be quite different to anything she had ever experienced up till then.

‘I’ll look after your bags, Miss. If you would like to take a seat.’ Mr Mackintosh somehow managed to free one hand and open the rear door for her. Katie just stood there, looking on in amazement. She had never, ever, in her whole life seen a car like this. It was immensely long, immensely old and unbelievably beautiful. It was an open car, with the roof folded down and hidden under a leather cover. An amazingly elegant mascot in the shape of a bird stood on the gleaming chrome radiator, the bodywork was pure glistening white, as were the tyres, and the interior was rich blue leather. Incredibly, there were two windscreens. One was directly in front of the driver, sticking up from the bonnet on imposing chrome pillars. The second was behind the driver, obviously designed to keep the flies out of the faces of the important passengers in the rear seats. It was into these seats that Katie hesitantly stepped.

‘There is a plaid in the compartment by your left hand, Miss, if you feel the chill.’ Mr Mackintosh stowed her bags on the seat beside him and came round to close the door for her. Katie settled back into what felt like a wonderfully comfortable sofa and looked around, feeling very conspicuous and, if the truth be told, a bit silly. Fortunately there was nobody else to be seen. She had been the only passenger to alight here and the only sign of life was a large black and white cow, who studied her meditatively from a gate on the opposite side of the road. Martin had told her that Iddlescombe was deep in the Devon countryside and he hadn’t been joking. Thought of Martin cheered her and saddened her at the same time. As the huge car coughed into life and pulled away unexpectedly smoothly, she found herself thinking fondly of him.

Everything had happened so quickly. The previous Monday she had sent off her application for the position of companion as advertised in The Lady, and the invitation to interview had come back by return. It had been for that same week. The interview was in the legal chambers of a Mr Hereward Evergreen of the old established firm of Evergreen, Evergreen and Lighterman, just behind the Temple Church in London. Martin had offered to give her a lift up there as he claimed he had business to attend to. The drive up to London had been most enjoyable, mainly because it was the first time Katie had found herself alone with him for a relatively long period of time. In spite of her resolve to stay clear of men and concentrate on a career, she very much enjoyed his company and she got the impression that he had enjoyed hers.

Her reminiscing was interrupted by what could have been an expletive from the driver and a shower of feathers in the air. As she looked on, Mr Mackintosh eased the vast vehicle into the side of the road and engaged a huge handbrake. The engine subsided to a throaty rumble. He walked round to the front of the car and reached down. Seconds later, he emerged with a twitching pheasant in his gloved hand. It was a fine-looking cock pheasant, or at least it had been before it hit the radiator of their car. He wrung its neck expertly to put an end to its suffering and lobbed it into the undergrowth. Katie grimaced. As he returned to the driver’s door, he felt obliged to offer an explanation.