Kate Fitzroy - Dreams Of Tuscany

‘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.’