Kate Fitzroy - Dreams Of Tuscany

‘ 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.