Chapter 3
MONDAY LATE AFTERNOON
‘Dan, Anna, you’ve arrived. How wonderful.’
I recognised the voice even before I turned around.
It was Selena, and she came hurrying over to hug and kiss Anna and me before enveloping Oscar in her arms under the puzzled gaze of Winston the giant.
Jumping back up again, she subjected us both to a long, searching look before nodding a couple of times.
‘Yes, marriage definitely seems to be treating you well. Dan, you look positively hunky and, Anna, you look gorgeous.’
I had no illusions as to the limited degree of hunkiness I might or might not possess, but it was kind of her to try.
As for her description of Anna, I totally agreed.
I scrutinised Selena in return and this confirmed my conviction that she must have discovered some magical way of turning the clocks back.
She didn’t look a day older than when I had last seen her at the film premiere and, if anything, she appeared even younger, her skin positively glowing, and her mass of blonde hair not exhibiting any signs of grey – unlike my hair, which was rapidly becoming two-tone.
Still, I told myself, in her line of business appearance was everything, whereas for me, more often than not, it helped if I just blended into the background.
Selena caught Anna by the hand and led her off towards the house, while Paolo and I grabbed the bags and followed. The two dogs brought up the rear.
The temperature inside the house felt sub-tropical in comparison to outside – even hotter than the restaurant – and I hastily pulled off my jacket and hung it on a coat rack by the door, noting as I did so that there were a dozen or so coats already hanging there.
It would appear that we weren’t the first to arrive.
The hallway was large, the floor made up of wide wooden boards, and the ceiling supported by huge timber beams. The walls were hung with Christmas decorations and pine branches, and there was a wonderful scent of resin in the air.
A paper star hung from the light and the whole impression was one of rustic, seasonal charm.
Paolo told me to leave the bags in the hall and he would see that they got to our room.
He pointed straight ahead to where Selena and Anna were just disappearing from sight at the end of a corridor.
‘The others are in the lounge. It’s along there.’
I thanked him but, before setting off, I thought I would take advantage of his local knowledge to find out a bit more about where we were. ‘Tell me, Paolo, whose house is this?’
He looked mildly surprised that I didn’t already know this. ‘It belongs to the Viviani family.’ Seeing the blank expression on my face, he added a bit of explanation. ‘Signor Bartolomeo is the head of the Aquila Sports empire.’
Comprehension dawned. Aquila Sports was one of the most famous manufacturers of everything to do with winter sports, from skis and boots to jackets and gloves.
This seemed like a very logical spot for them to have a home, but I wondered what the connection with Selena might be – and by extension to Anna and me.
As instructed, I headed along the corridor with Oscar and his new monster buddy trotting at my heels.
A door at the far end led into a long, bright room with an array of floor-to-ceiling windows and doors looking out onto the surrounding mountains, their summits now tinted a deep red as the sun set.
All around the walls was a charming frieze of alpine flowers, while two massive glass chandeliers, almost certainly from the Venetian island of Murano, illuminated the large area.
More pine branches added to the Christmassy feel and a huge fir tree hung with glittering ornaments and twinkling lights reached to the ceiling and completely filled one corner of the room.
I saw Oscar immediately eye it with interest, but I tapped him gently on the ear and shook a warning finger at him.
‘No, Oscar, that’s a Christmas tree. It’s for humans, not dogs. Leave it alone.’
He gave the canine equivalent of a resigned shrug and returned his attention to the people in the room. There was a hum of cheerful conversation in the air and, at first sight, it all looked very sociable. The noise subsided as Selena made the introductions.
‘This is Anna, and her husband, Dan, with Oscar, the smartest Labrador on the planet. They’re my best friends here in Italy.’
Suppressing a smug little glow of satisfaction that this internationally recognised celebrity should have described us as close friends, I waved in the general direction of the group standing at the end of the room alongside a fully fitted bar.
Instinctively, I gave them a quick appraisal.
I counted ten people standing beyond Selena and Anna, some with drinks in their hands – five men and five women.
My initial reaction was one of surprise and a mixture of disappointment and relief because I didn’t recognise any of the faces.
Clearly, our fears that the house might be packed with Hollywood folk were groundless.
On reflection, this was probably for the best. As I knew from my previous experiences with big names from the world of cinema, they could sometimes be hard going.
‘Dan, Anna, let me introduce you to our host.’
Selena waved me over to where she was standing by a suave-looking man, maybe four or five years older than me, say in his early to mid-sixties.
He had an immaculately trimmed moustache, bushy eyebrows, and suspiciously dark hair.
He was wearing a perfectly tailored brown and green tweed jacket with suede patches on the elbows that could have come straight out of a copy of Horse I suppressed a frown and saw what might have been a momentary look of disapproval flit across Selena’s face.
It looked as though our host fancied himself as an ageing Casanova, and I wasn’t the only one to be suspicious of him.
I saw Oscar give him – and then me – a puzzled look.
Bartolomeo Viviani had addressed us in fluent English, albeit with a distinct Italian accent, and I answered in my own language.
If he was happy to speak English, that was fine with me – so long as he kept his hands off my wife.
‘It’s extremely kind of you to invite us into this lovely house.’ Swallowing my annoyance – for now – I affected an air of bonhomie. ‘Have you lived here long?’
He smiled and opened his arms helplessly. ‘Lived here? If only. This is my refuge away from the world, but I only manage to get here for a few weeks every year, more’s the pity.’ Taking Anna by the arm, he pointed across the room. ‘Now, do come and let me introduce you to my other guests.’
There was no mention of a partner or wife and, as far as I could tell, Selena was also unaccompanied, so might this mean what I thought it meant?
If so, I had a feeling she was going to have to keep her eyes on an old womaniser like this one.
Still, I told myself, she had probably eaten flashier Don Juans than him for breakfast and was well able to look after herself.
I’ve always had an inquisitive streak and I would have loved to ask the nature of their relationship, but – probably wisely – I stayed off the subject for now.
No doubt I would find out in the fullness of time.
The first guests to whom Bartolomeo Viviani introduced us looked as if they were about half my age, and the physical resemblance between the young man and our host was unmistakable.
‘Anna, Dan, let me introduce my son, Orlando, and his beautiful wife, Fiona.’
He was right about her being beautiful, and I noted that Oscar immediately gave up nuzzling Selena and transferred his attention to Fiona, who appeared delighted to be on the receiving end of a friendly canine greeting. She bent down and fondled his ears as he leant against her leg.