Chapter Seven
The flight went by in a flash, helped along by some Valium. It was almost exactly two hours, but it felt like we’d only just started cruising along, when the captain announced we were beginning our descent. I’d barely finished my coffee and was at a crucial moment in Bridgerton, which Holly had hard recommended, when the seatbelts sign came on. I put my Italian playlist on, and Pavarotti’s ‘Nessun dorma’ sang out as the clouds parted to reveal the city of Pisa. A Monopoly board of buildings in reds and browns, topped with terracotta tiles, sitting either side of the river. In the distance the landscape was green and lush, thousands of vineyards across acres of farmland, housing the grapes that made those delicious Tuscan wines. San Gimignano was out there somewhere, on that horizon – I just needed to get a quick photo of me holding up the Leaning Tower on the way.
I got off the plane and wrestled my way through passport control, and out onto the road. It was only 1 p.m., so I’d timed it perfectly to arrive with Holly for my stomach’s lunchtime. The heat in the air, mixed with cigarette smoke and diesel, reminded me of holidays long past and I took a deep breath. I was here. A chaos of cars beeped and revved as people scurried in and out of the airport with their cases. Two men were arguing and waving their hands around right next to me, as tiny cars weaved in and out of the traffic, dropping off and picking up in the middle of the road. I spotted a reassuring snake of white taxis disappearing off into the distance, and marched over to join the queue, quickly reaching the front where a silver-haired fox of a man – who would have been perfect for Margot – took my bags and opened the cab door.
‘Where to?’ he asked.
‘San Gimignano, per favore. Vigneto Almagno?’ I said it more as a question, than a direction, but he nodded. ‘I don’t suppose we could go past the Leaning Tower on the way?’ I added, in gabbled English. That way I could tick it off my bucket list.
The driver looked aggrieved. ‘Iz very busy there,’ he said, with a frown.
‘Just for a few minutes?’ I asked, my fingers crossed. We were too close not to.
He shrugged and nodded. ‘Will be very slow, but it’s your money, lady,’ he said, pulling into the stream of cars flowing out of the airport. The air conditioning gushed through the car, and I put my sunglasses on, enjoying the hot bustle of Pisa. I could see the Leaning Tower in the distance, cars driving alongside us, horns bibbing away happily, and the pink and white buildings got prettier the closer we got. The driver slowed a few streets from the tower, pointing up at it as part of his tour.
‘There it is,’ he said, crawling to an almost stop. There were thousands of tourists posing for photos, one hand in the air as if to hold the tower up. Some faced into it and pushed with both hands and a leg in the air, everybody smiling.
‘Would you mind if…?’ I opened the cab door while the car was still trickling along.
‘No, no, no,’ he called out in alarm.
I held up my phone, with one foot out the door. ‘A quick photo?’
It wasn’t really a road where cars could stop as such, but the driver checked his mirrors and pulled over. He took my phone as I ran to the pavement and put my hands in the air.
‘More left,’ he said, art-directing the shot. I waved to the left. ‘Now, more right,’ he said, and I inched back a little. He snapped a few pictures then nodded in satisfaction. The tower was much smaller and cuter than I’d thought it would be. Plumper. The cutesy saltshaker sister of the metal-headed Eiffel Tower.
‘Polizia!’ the driver shouted, as I took another couple of photos and jumped back in the car.
‘Grazie mille,’ I called, mentally ticking Pisa off my bucket list as he sped off. Done.
The scenery quickly shifted from city to country as we left the motorway and made our way through the winding roads of Tuscany. The greens and browns of the fields, against the hazy sunshine and clear blue sky. I’d finally get to see one of the sunsets Holly had been raving on about, followed by a sunrise if I was up in time tomorrow morning. My 6 a.m. London run would be an hour later over here, so I’d have to see. The roads became thinner and dustier as we got closer to San Gimignano. I was following the route on Google Maps – just in case I was being trafficked; we’ve all seen Taken – and I had a tingle of excitement as we started the final ascent into the hills. Two years of promising to visit was ridiculous. Just goes to show how time flies when you stop paying attention. I couldn’t wait to give Holly a big hug. My phone started buzzing on the seat next to me. It was Chris.
‘Buongiorno, little bro!’
‘Hey, Abs,’ he said, quietly.
‘Everything OK?’ My protective older sister radar immediately kicked in. Chris messaged a fair bit, but he rarely picked up the phone and dialled my number. The last time he’d called me was from the police station when he’d somehow got mixed up in a pub brawl and been hauled off to the cells. He’d used his one phone call to ask me to come and get him. Reliable old Abs. He obviously didn’t trust Mum and Dad to answer.
‘Not really. Me and Em have split up.’
‘What??! Noooo!’
‘We both knew it was coming. She finally got tired of me being skint.’
‘Is that what she said?’
Chris gave a sad sigh. ‘No. She said we’ve been living together long enough to know we’re not compatible, and she wants to move on and find her person. I don’t think being skint helped very much though.’
‘Oh, Chris, I’m sorry. I know you liked her. I’m away, otherwise I’d take you for a cheer-up drink.’
‘It’ll take more than a drink this time – I’m going to need the whole bottle. She wants me to move all my stuff out as well, like, pronto.’
‘Straight away? That’s brutal. Although I suppose it makes sense if you’re not together anymore.’ I knew what was coming next.
‘Any chance I can stay at yours until I get myself sorted?’
My little flat was not designed for two people, and the last time Chris had come to stay I’d nearly lost my shit with him leaving his shit all over the place. Muddy boots by the front door, smelly socks down the back of the sofa, half-full coffee cups cultivating in hidden spots and the TV permanently on. He was a nightmare house guest, which might explain Em rethinking him as her person, but I couldn’t abandon him in his hour of need.
‘You’re in luck. I’ve just landed in Pisa for a couple of weeks, so you can stay in the flat while I’m away if you like.’
‘Pisa? As in Italy?’ Chris said, clearly gobsmacked.
‘Yes. I know. Travel shocker – this is not a drill.’
‘What are you doing out there? You haven’t been away for ages!’
‘It was all a bit last minute to be honest, but I’m in between gigs, so I thought I’d make the most of it and come and see Holly.’
‘Very cool. Give her my love.’
‘I will. It’s only for two weeks though, Chris, and that’s it. You’ll have to move back in with Mum and Dad after that if you’re stuck.’
‘Er… yeah… I think I’ve already outstayed my welcome there.’
‘Well, it’s fine to stay at mine, as long as you’re out by the time I get back.’
‘Yesss, that is sweet news. Thanks, sis. I appreciate it.’
‘The keys are in the lock box; you know the code. But you do need to get a job at some point. You can’t live sofa to sofa for the rest of your life. Do you want me to help you with your CV?’
‘I’m just not sure the career conveyor belt is for me,’ he said. ‘It’s so restrictive.’
‘Yes, Chris, but it’s how you get this thing called money, which helps you do things like eat and wear clothes. And not have to live with your mum and dad when you’re nearly thirty.’
‘I hear ya. It can’t hurt to look at the old CV, I suppose. Not that there’s much on it. Would you mind?’
‘Of course not. Ping it over and I’ll do it while I’m out here.’
I hung up as the cab driver slowed down, stopping to read a battered, wooden sign.
‘Vigneto Almagno,’ he said, pointing to it. ‘Siamo arrivati.’ He turned into the drive and crunched along the gravel. The dirt track went through the field, vines growing strong either side in the sun as we approached the farmhouse on top of the hill. A beautiful old building, with crumbling white plaster, blue shutters at the windows and a pink front door. A table full of people sat outside as the taxi came to a stop, and Holly jumped up and ran over.
‘Abs!’ she screamed. I was barely out of the car before she leapt on me and gave me a hug. If you can call it that. It was more of a headlock, really.
‘I’m here!’ I replied. ‘I made it!’
I paid the cabbie, adding a healthy tip for his Leaning Tower efforts, then took my case and thanked him again for the wonky photos.
‘I’m so happy to see you,’ Holly said, pinching me to check I was real.
It felt good to breathe in the warm summer air, to feel the sun on my shoulders. There was a calm, breezy energy about the place and I was glad to finally be here.
‘Love the new hair,’ I said, nodding at her bob. ‘Very chic.’
‘Oh, do you think?’ Holly said, touching it. ‘I had to have it all lopped off the other week because of a chewing gum incident. The hairdresser said it was completely stuck and the only option was to cut it out, unless I wanted some kind of half-and-half number.’
‘Ah, well that explains it!’ I said, feeling relieved. ‘I thought it was a big move to go so short out of the blue. Especially when you’ve been growing it out for ages.’
‘I know, just my luck,’ Holly said, rolling her eyes. ‘Anyway, enough about that – come and meet Xavier.’ She grabbed my hand and dragged me over.
‘Is this where you live?’ I asked, looking up at the enormous farmhouse in awe. We were in the middle of nowhere, with vineyards stretching out on all sides, seemingly forever, and San Gimignano waving from the top of the hill, in the distance.
Holly laughed. ‘God, no. I wish! Xavier and I are down the road in a two-bed flat above the restaurant. No, this is where you’ll be staying. With our neighbours, Paolo and Mia.’
‘Wow, it’s gorgeous!’ I said, tearing up. ‘Thank you for booking me in and organising everything. I can’t remember the last time someone did all the arranging for me, instead of the other way around.’
‘And don’t I know it. You’re always thinking about everyone else. I wanted to do a little something for you, for a change.’
I gave Holly another hug as we crunched along the path towards the others. Her familiar, good vibes were already making me feel welcome, like I was home from home.
I recognised Xavier from the many, many photos and video calls we’d had, and even though we hadn’t met in real life, I felt like I knew him, this man who was living with, and loving, my best friend. Xavier was an absolute dreamboat; tall and fit, with floppy auburn hair and green eyes – and he was funny and kind to boot. Ideal man material.
‘Bonjour, Abi,’ he said, coming over with a confident double kiss. ‘Finally, we meet, after all this time.’
‘I knowwww,’ I said, drinking him in. His French accent filled the air. Xavier was in a totally different league to Holly’s ex, George. She had seriously upgraded. I gave her a fleeting look that only she would clock and understand. Very, very nice.
‘And these are our neighbours, Paolo and Mia, who own the vineyard,’ Holly said, gesturing towards the Italian couple, who had stood up to greet me. They looked so young. Late twenties – early thirties max – and they owned this enormous place and all this land? That was impressive. I could barely afford to run my one-bed flat. Mia was holding a small black puppy in her arms, with two more at her feet.
‘Ciao,’ they said in unison. Mia was the first in to kiss me and I had to bend down slightly, although she was in flats, and I was wearing my painfully high, cork wedges. A large straw hat protected her glossy, black hair, as she welcomed me with a big smile.
‘Benvenuta,’ she said. ‘Welcome! I’m Mia and this is Nero.’ The puppy had soft, curly hair and had snuggled himself into the nook of her arm. ‘And Bianco and Toppa.’
‘Black, White and Patch,’ Paolo explained, pointing the puppies out. ‘We are honoured to have you stay.’ He was tall and tanned, with blue eyes and bodybuilder muscles. It was all very friendly and welcoming.
‘Paolo and Mia have only just opened the vineyard up for bed and breakfast,’ Holly said. ‘You are one of their first ever guests.’
‘We can’t always rely on the wine,’ Mia said, ‘so we are trying to do more.’
‘Diversifying,’ Paolo added, putting his arm around her shoulder.
‘Ah, well it’s so lovely to be here, thank you for having me in your home,’ I said. ‘I’ll be staying for a couple of weeks if that’s OK?’
Holly whooped excitedly. ‘You’re mine now. Mwahahahaha. When is your flight home?’
I grinned at her ridiculousness. ‘I haven’t booked it yet, so I can go back whenever.’
‘Or never?’ Holly said, hopefully.
‘No, not never,’ I said, rolling my eyes.
‘Holly would have you here forever.’ Xavier laughed. Mia handed me a glass of cold water, which I held against my forehead. It was mid-afternoon, and the sun was on its way down, but the air was hot and close. My strapless dress was paper-thin, but it still felt like one layer too many. I spotted the turquoise blue of a swimming pool, tucked around the side of the farmhouse, and I couldn’t wait to get my bikini on and jump in.
‘Would you like a glass of wine?’ Paolo asked, holding up the bottle they’d been drinking.
‘Or to see your room?’ Mia read my mind and I nodded gratefully.
We left the boys to their drinks, and I followed Mia and Holly into the farmhouse, where it was instantly cooler. The building was all wooden floors and stone walls with fans on every ceiling. Simple, antique furniture downstairs, with a lounge and a dining room, which opened onto the patio and a full-sized swimming pool.
‘That looks amazing,’ I said, desperate to get in.
‘The pool is open day and night – you can swim anytime,’ Mia said. ‘Although we don’t have a lifeguard,’ she added quickly, presumably mindful of me being a paying guest. Swim at your own risk.
‘Fancy a dip, Hols?’
‘Sure do. I’m already wearing my bikini as underwear.’
We made our way upstairs and Mia unlocked the first door, with a comically large key.
‘After you,’ she said, pushing it open.
I stepped inside and could see straight through and out over the balcony from the front door, the view was incredible. Vineyards all the way up to the towers of San Gimignano town. The haze from the hot air, the starlings singing happily as they swooped and swirled through the sky, and the smell of lemons from the trees. The bedroom was huge, with a four-poster bed, fresh white bedding, and a welcome basket of goodies – cake, biscuits, olives, and water. As well as a small bottle of glow-in-the-dark limoncello.
‘Guests stay here, in the main farmhouse, and Paolo and I sleep in the extension at the back.’
‘And this is your first week in business?’ I asked.
Mia nodded. ‘We have five people staying for the first few weeks,’ she said, eyes shining.
‘You’re getting mates’ rates while they try a few things out,’ Holly said. ‘Which breakfast you like best, what you think of the facilities, that kind of thing.’
‘Sounds great! Although, you know me, I’m not big on breakfast, so don’t worry too much. I’ll probably just stick to coffee.’
‘Wait until you try Paolo’s pancakes,’ Mia said. ‘He has been practising them for weeks.’
I smiled and nodded encouragingly. I’d had pretty much the same calorie intake for the past eight years and had no plans to start carb-loading my mornings, but Mia was so kind and sweet, I didn’t like to say. I didn’t want to burst her breakfast bubble.
‘Ooh, Holly, I nearly forgot,’ I said, unzipping my handbag and digging around. ‘I got you a little something. A few little somethings actually.’
‘A present? Yay, what is it?’
‘Sorry it’s only wrapped in brown paper,’ I said, handing it to her.
Holly peered in, then squealed with delight. ‘Club biscuits! Mint, salted caramel, orange – ahmagaddd, all the flavours! What an absolute treat! Thank youuu!’ she said, throwing her arms around me.
‘Your mum said you were missing them, so I brought you over a stash. I’ve also got some cheddar and a jar of Marmite in the depths of my suitcase somewhere, so you can have those later, too.’
Mia watched on, perplexed.
‘This is the best news I’ve had in months. Xavier is an amazing chef, but sometimes I really just want cheese and Marmite on toast. But it’s not very Italian. Or French.’
‘Or civilised,’ I said. ‘The complete opposite of Michelin-starred on the foodometer – but a failsafe hangover cure. You’ll have to save it for special occasions.’
Holly unwrapped a mint Club and took a bite. ‘I’m very glad you’re here. And not just for the biscuits and the cheese.’
I laughed. ‘For the Marmite?’
‘Yes. For the Marmite. Pool in ten?’
‘See you there,’ I replied.
‘Breakfast is seven till eleven and you have two keys, one for the front door and one for your room,’ Mia said, continuing her check-in speech. ‘And we have bikes you can borrow anytime, and yoga starting on Tuesday.’
‘Fabulous. Thank you so much, both of you. I love it,’ I said, taking the keys and switching on the air con.
‘The room looks really fab,’ Holly said, giving Mia a hug. ‘You’re going to have an amazing time here, Abs. Whether you want to, or not!’
‘Of course I want to!’ I said, affronted.
‘She’s holiday-resistant, this one,’ Holly whispered to Mia, as they walked to the door.
‘I’ll be out in a minute, race you to the pool.’
Holly closed the door behind her, and I pulled my dress straight over my head and hung it up in the wardrobe. I was too hot to think so I jumped in the shower, letting the cold water massage my travel-weary body, while the air con cooled the room. I felt the London tension leave my shoulders as I lathered myself up in lemon blossom shower gel. I was here. In Tuscany. Ready for a productive fortnight doing Italy. I had two weeks to get it all done, but I could probably do it in one.