Dreams Of Tuscany. Kate Fitzroy
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.
Back in her little house, in the cool of the evening, Zoe sat on the sofa and looked at the telephone. To ring or not to ring? She closed her eyes and leant her head back against the cushions. Why was it so difficult to pick up the phone and ring home? She conjured up a mental picture of her parents sitting in the conservatory, sipping cocktails in elegant companionship. The phone would ring, a jarring noise interrupting their intimacy. Her mother would sigh and rise slowly to go over to answer the phone in the kitchen. Zoe’s eyes flashed open and she let out an exasperated, ‘Oh, for goodness sake! Mamma mia!’ Fidele opened one eye and regarded her with obvious impatience, before turning his back on her. ‘You’re quite right, Fidele! This is ridiculous. Mamma mia indeed – as if it can be so hard to phone my very own mamma mia. I’ll just ring and that’s that!’
She snatched up the receiver and impatiently punched the numbers into the phone. There was a long silence before the familiar English ringing tone began to sound. Zoe tensed, feeling her stomach turn over as she waited for one of her parents to answer. The ringing tone droned on and on until finally her mother’s recorded voice answered.
‘Sorry to miss your call, please leave your name and number and we’ll call back as soon as possible.’ The recording bleep sounded twice and Zoe began a hesitant message.
‘Hi, Ma, just me – er, phoning to see how you both are…er, I’ll call again soon. Bye now!’
Zoe slammed down the phone and blinked away unexpected tears from her eyes. Fidele rose from his rug and stretched, then ambled over to Zoe and rested his head in her lap. Zoe smiled down at the dog and stroked him for several minutes. Hadn’t she read somewhere that stroking pets was good for relieving stress? She allowed herself a wobbly smile before standing up and going over to the mirror above the stone fireplace. She looked at her reflection.
‘What a mess!’ she said aloud. Her eyes were pink-rimmed and her mouth looked a blur of misery and self-pity.
‘This won’t do at all – come on, Fidele, let’s go for a walk before we find something for dinner!’
Fidele leapt into activity, circling Zoe excitedly as she grabbed his lead and her door key.
She flung open the front door and the evening sun shone directly into her eyes, so it was a moment before she realised that she was standing face to face with Massimo. In fact, as he was on the lower step of the entrance she was almost staring straight over the top of his dark glistening hair. Not only that, he was practically hidden behind a vast bunch of dark red roses. In her surprise she said abruptly, ‘What are you doing?’
Massimo lowered the bouquet and hastily stepped up to her level. Now they really were eye to eye as he answered soulfully, ‘I had to see you, carissima!’ His dark brown eyes looked wistful as he offered her the flowers.
Zoe took them from him automatically and then hastily gave them back.
‘I’m sorry, Massimo, I can’t take your flowers…thank you, I am very flattered but…’ She faltered to a stop, words failing her as she tried to come up with an excuse. There he stood, the ridiculously perfect example of any girl’s dream. Not tall but muscled and handsome as a film star – an Italian film star. Impeccably dressed, Ferrari keys in hand and ready to love her. Why, why couldn’t she just fall in love with him and be done with it? At that moment Fidele pushed between them and Massimo bent down and impatiently brushed his trouser leg and inspected it for dog hairs. Now why should that annoy her so much?
‘I was just going to take Fidele for a walk – would you like to join us?’ Zoe asked politely enough, although she was fairly confident of his giving a negative answer.
‘I didn’t come here to walk a dog, Zoe. I came to tell you that I love you and want to marry you. Aren’t you going to ask me in?’
‘Sorry, Massimo, but I have promised Fidele a walk and a promise to a dog just can’t be broken!’ Zoe gave a wide smile and pushed past the flowers, down the steps and into the street. Fidele gave an enthusiastic bound past Massimo and stood by her side, gently chewing on his lead and anxious to be off.
‘But, Zoe…’
‘Sorry, Massimo…I really am…about everything…but you know it just wouldn’t work between us.’ Zoe looked back up at Massimo as he looked down at her, his eyes now screwed up against the setting sunlight. For one awful moment she thought he was going to cry. Then he jumped down the steps and stood beside her again.
‘OK, I’ll walk with you. You will see that I don’t give up easily. When I really want something, I have to have it.’
Zoe walked off at a brisk pace, heading towards the rampart walls of the town. It didn’t seem to occur to Massimo that sometimes life didn’t work out quite like that. Zoe marched on, trying to quell the annoyance she felt at Massimo’s intrusion into her life. Fidele trotted between them and the pace quickened as though they had entered in some ridiculous walking race. Massimo tossed the huge bouquet of roses onto the bonnet of a parked car as they strode on, shoulder to shoulder. Zoe was now walking as fast as she could without breaking into an undignified run. Massimo was slowly pulling ahead and Zoe watched his athletic shoulders and strong legs with grudging admiration. Massimo might be a mother’s boy but he was no wimp. When he was several metres ahead of her he suddenly turned and laughed, throwing his head back and stretching his arms wide.
‘It’s no good, Zoe! I love you and that’s that. I love you even more when you are angry!’
Zoe stopped in her tracks and bent over, holding her sides as she regained her breath. She laughed reluctantly and looked up at him.
‘Massimo, I do so wish I could fall in love with you but…’
Massimo interrupted her.
‘Don’t say another word – especially “but”. It’s the worst word in any language. I have enough love for both of us for now and I can be very, very patient. Let’s be friends, amici!’
He held out his hand and she took it. They walked on again, slower now and side by side. When Zoe gently removed her hand from his grasp, he made no comment but sighed quietly. Zoe smiled and admitted to herself that Massimo was