‘You’ll go out of your mind,’ Will warned him.
‘I’m going out of my mind here. At least there I can do it surrounded by good wine and great food.’
‘Ah, the food,’ Will smiled. ‘And the girls. Man, if I wasn’t contracted for this movie I’d be joining you.’
Sam nodded at his offer, but didn’t comment. He was too busy thinking about booking a flight to Milan. A few weeks in Italy, without the scrutiny of the press. Time to think things through, and work out how the hell things had ended up like this.
Time to put a few thousand miles between him and Serena Sloane.
And if that bitch really did print an article about his family – and he’d be doing everything possible to make sure she couldn’t – he’d be able to lie low for a while. That could only be a good thing.
5
I do desire we may be better strangers
– As You Like It
‘I think that’s it.’ Sandro tried to close the trunk of his Fiat 500, his face dropping as it bounced off the cases stuffed inside it. He prodded them back and then tried again, this time putting his weight into the effort.
‘Are you sure you’re only going for a few weeks?’ Cesca bit away her smile. Shielding her eyes from the bright sun, she peered over at Gabi who was rifling through her bag, desperately trying to find something.
‘Of course.’ Gabi looked up from her search. ‘We promised Signora Carlton, we will be back within a month. Enough time to support Sandro’s poor sister through her birth and the homecoming.’ She paused for a moment, then threw her hands up in exasperation. ‘Sandro, I can’t find my phone. It’s not in my bag.’
Calmly, Sandro leaned forward, reaching for his wife’s hip. He slid the phone out of her pocket, handing it to her without a word. Then he pressed his lips against Gabi’s forehead, whispering a few words in Italian.
In the two weeks since she’d arrived in Varenna, Cesca had become fast friends with the Martinellis. They’d spent their days showing her the house and helping her to explore the village, pointing out where the best coffees were served, which was the best gelaterie, and who Cesca should call in case of an emergency. Their nights were more relaxed, with long, pasta-filled suppers complemented by warm red wine and a lot of laughter. Somehow, within the space of a few days, Cesca felt that she’d found a home from home, and had settled into the rhythm of life at Villa Palladino.
The contrast between her time here and her life in London was almost hard to believe.
‘We’ll keep in touch, I promise,’ Gabi told her, grabbing Cesca’s face as she kissed her on both cheeks. ‘I will email you, it’s the easiest way. Just remember to go to the Internet café a couple of times a week.’
‘And you have all my contact numbers in case of an emergency,’ Sandro added. ‘Call any time of the day or night. And there’s an old car in the garage that you can use if you need to get to a telephone box.’
Cesca made a face. ‘I don’t think I’ll be driving. I can barely drive on the right side of the road in London, I’ll end up in an accident here. I’ll use your old bike instead.’
Gabi looked concerned.
‘I’ll be fine,’ Cesca reassured her. ‘You’ve shown me everything I need, and if there are any problems I promise to call you. The cleaners will be here every other day, and the gardeners three times a week. It’s not as if I’ll be short of people if I need to ask questions.’
Sandro opened the passenger-side door for Gabi. The hot sun reflected off the shiny blue paint, lending it a yellow tinge. ‘We should go, my love, if we want to get there before evening arrives.’
Gabi hesitated, giving Cesca a worried look. ‘If you’re sure . . . ’
Cesca enveloped her in an uncharacteristic hug, wrapping her arms around Gabi’s torso. Gabi held her tightly, though who she was trying to reassure the most Cesca wasn’t sure.
‘Stay in touch, cara mia.’
‘Of course I will. And I’ll see you when you get back from Florence. I expect to see all the baby photos.’
Gabi finally smiled. ‘Of course, and I can promise you will be bored before I am. Thank you again, you’ve saved our lives.’
Shooing her petite Italian friend into the car, Cesca didn’t bother to reply that Gabi and Alessandro may just be saving her own life in return.
The evening was pleasantly balmy as Cesca walked out of the huge glass doors in the living room, making her way to the terrace overlooking the lake. She was carrying a glass of red wine in her right hand, while her left was curled around a notepad and a pen.
Placing everything down on the small glass table beside her chair, Cesca lifted her glass, inhaling the aroma. Since her arrival in Varenna, she’d fallen in love with the full-bodied Sassicaia wine, loving the silky way it slipped down her throat. Now that Gabi and Sandro were gone, she needed to make sure she didn’t drink quite so much. Between the three of them, they’d managed to polish off a bottle most nights.
It was impossible not to be amazed by the view of the sun setting over the lake. The sky was tinged purple and orange by its impending disappearance. Silhouettes of boats bobbed in the middle of the expanse, their masts free of sails as they moored up for the night. Cesca took another sip of her wine, closing her eyes to savour the taste. It lingered on her tongue, the memory still warming her even as the liquid disappeared.