Chapter 14
Rosa and Vincenzo lived less than five minutes’ walk away. It was still very hot on Sunday, but at least now a good breeze had started blowing, and the branches of the trees above Amy’s head were being whipped about by it as she made her way to their house. As a result, the air felt fresher and cooler. Rosa and Vincenzo lived in a large modern detached villa. The front garden had been meticulously looked after, the house itself was newly painted and it all looked very smart. Amy could hear a hubbub of voices inside as she rang the bell. A few seconds later Rosa appeared, looking flustered. She greeted Amy with kisses to the cheeks and ushered her inside where her husband welcomed her and handed her a glass of what looked like Prosecco.
‘Welcome, Amy. So glad you could come.’ He took the bottles of Signor Montalcino’s wine off her and set them down on the table. ‘Thank you so much for the wine, but you shouldn’t have.’
She grinned at him. ‘It’s the least I can do. If somebody had told me only two weeks ago that I would actually have wine made from grapes on my own land, I would have laughed at them. It still feels like a dream.’
The lounge was a charming room with French windows that opened onto the garden. The property boasted a magnificent expanse of lawn that would not have disgraced an English garden, ringed by some fine shrubs and ornamental trees. Amy found herself wondering how much time, work and, above all, water it needed to keep it looking like this. Maybe they had a well. Her reflections were interrupted as she spotted the notary outside admiring the plants.
She hurried out to Alfredo and saw a smile of recognition appear on his face. As before, he was impeccably turned out in a dark suit, polished black shoes, collar and tie.
‘Signora Sherwood, how lovely to see you again. All going well?’
Amy smiled back at him as she shook his hand. ‘Do call me Amy, please. Everything’s fine, and the builders are starting work for me tomorrow. There’s an awful lot to be done.’ She hesitated, glancing around to see if they were being overheard, but was pleased to see there was nobody within earshot. ‘I wanted to see you to tell you there’s been a pretty monumental development.’
She watched his face as he registered what she went on to tell him about her discovery. His expression gradually changed from amazement to delight and then to uncertainty. There was real sympathy in his voice when he responded.
‘Signora… Amy, how amazing, but how sad that you never had the chance to meet him. He was a charming and generous man and he was well-loved.’
Amy could hear the emotion in her voice as she replied. ‘Thank you. That’s so reassuring to hear, but I do so wish I could have known him. All my life I’ve believed that another man was my father but, tragically, I never knew him either. He was killed just before I was born. Now I find myself with two fathers and I never knew either of them.’ There was a catch in her voice and she had to stop and collect herself before continuing. ‘But knowing he was well-loved here means a lot to me.’
He reached over and placed a comforting hand on her arm. ‘I know this must have all come as a massive shock to you but I can tell you this. I’m sure Martin would have been delighted to have such a charming, talented daughter. You can take comfort in the knowledge that he would have been very proud of you.’
It took Amy a full minute to pull herself together. Finally, she mustered a little smile. ‘Well, at least I now know that there’s a real link between me and Sant’Antonio. Ever since I arrived here I’ve felt it, and it’s reassuring to know that it wasn’t just an illusion.’ A thought occurred to her. ‘Do you think I should make this news public?’
‘It’s completely up to you, but I can guarantee you an even warmer welcome in Sant’Antonio when you do. Like I say, people here thought very highly of him.’
Just then, Vincenzo appeared carrying a tray of drinks. Amy hadn’t started on her fizz yet so she just thanked him while the notary reached for a glass of mineral water. Vincenzo nodded towards Amy and addressed himself to the lawyer.
‘Alfredo, I’m glad you’ve met our new arrival. It’s about time we had some new blood in the town. I’m sure Martin would have been pleased to know that such a lovely young woman had taken over l’Ospedaletto.’
Alfredo Lucchese caught Amy’s eye for a second before replying. ‘Yes, indeed. I’m sure she’ll be a great asset to the town.’
Amy hesitated and then decided she had nothing to lose – and maybe even much to gain – by revealing what she had just discovered. She took a big mouthful of the very good wine and owned up.
‘Thanks, Vincenzo. In fact only yesterday I found out that my links with Sant’Antonio are stronger than I’d thought.’ And she told him about the letter in the safe.
He looked delighted for her and, to her surprise and considerable embarrassment, he set the tray down on the grass, reached out and hugged her to him, bestowing a couple of smacking kisses to her cheeks before catching her by the hand and dragging her back into the lounge. When they got there he immediately pulled out a chair and proceeded to climb up onto it remarkably nimbly, brandishing an empty glass in the air as he did so. Amy stood behind him, worried he might fall off, but he turned out to be steadier than she had thought.
He produced a coin from his pocket and proceeded to bash it against the glass hard enough to turn all the heads and even bring his wife running out of the kitchen. Fortunately, the glass didn’t break.
‘Dear friends, I have some absolutely wonderful news. This lovely young lady, for those of you who don’t know her, is Amy. And she’s just discovered she’s the daughter of our very own sadly missed Martin.’ There was a flutter among the audience and murmurs of surprise. Amy suddenly found herself the centre of attention and the colour rushed to her cheeks again. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, we have a Slater in the town once more. Isn’t that amazing?’
As Alfredo helped Vincenzo down from his chair, Amy was immediately surrounded by friendly locals, shaking her by the hand, kissing her on the cheeks and enquiring about how she had only now discovered she had a father. It was eminently clear that Martin had been a popular and well-loved member of Sant’Antonio society and she felt pleased and proud for him.
By the time they filed through into the dining room and Amy had told and retold her story time and time again, she felt quite drained. She found the card with her name on it and took her place at table. She was at the top end, with Vincenzo on her right and a good-looking woman on her left who might have been in her mid- or late fifties. Her name card indicated that she was called Domenica, but Amy hadn’t met her before. Rosa’s empty seat was directly opposite and when her head emerged from the kitchen Amy could see she was perspiring. There were eleven mouths to feed around the table so she had her work cut out. She gave a wave of the hand to the assembled guests. ‘Do sit down, everybody. So glad you could come.’
Seeing Rosa hurry back into the kitchen, Amy excused herself and slipped out to join her.
‘Can I make myself useful?’ It was a lovely big room, with modern kitchen equipment. The enormous table was covered with plates as Rosa served up her own mix of antipasti. There was wonderful aromatic finocchiona salami scented with fennel, cured ham and slices of juicy, orange-fleshed melon and a selection of bruschetta slices. Coco, the Labrador, was lying in her basket in the corner and Amy was very impressed. She felt sure Max would have been far too excited to stay out of the way. The previous day he had provided welcome canine support to her as she came to terms with her father’s letter, and when Signora Grande had returned with the news that her sister was recovering, Amy had felt really sorry to say goodbye to him.
Rosa put up a few token protests and then let Amy take over the task of adding fat green olives and slices of avocado to the plates. For her part, Rosa hauled a series of roasting dishes out of the ovens and checked the progress of the meat and vegetables. By the time she had finished doing the basting, Amy had prepared the starters.
Rosa and Amy loaded the plates onto a couple of trays and took the starters into the dining room. Amy set her tray down on a side table and returned to her seat so that Rosa could serve everybody personally. As she sat back down again, she felt a hand tap her wrist. It was Vincenzo.
‘That was very kind of you, Amy. Thank you.’
‘My pleasure.’
She chatted to him for a while and then to the woman on the other side of her and learnt that she, too, had known Martin Slater well.
‘So you’re Martin’s daughter. I saw quite a bit of him. I’m Domenica.’
‘And are you a resident of Sant’Antonio? Born and bred?’
‘I’ve been living here now for quite a few years, but I’m originally from Pisa. And you, what have you been doing up to now?’
She and Amy chatted throughout the meal and by the end Amy felt sure she had made another friend.
The antipasti were followed by broad flat pappardelle al cinghiale and although Amy deliberately only took a small portion of the pasta, the taste of the rich wild boar sauce was wonderful. After this came roast pork accompanied by little roast potatoes flavoured with rosemary, and then panna cotta to finish. It was an excellent meal and by the end Amy felt as though she was truly settling into the town that was fast becoming her new home.
That evening, sitting outside the restaurant with an iced coffee, Amy was trying to work out if she actually needed any more food, when she got a call back from Lucy. Amy had called her the previous night as soon as she had digested the contents of the letter in the safe, but had just got her friend’s voicemail. She had tried a couple more times but it had been clear Lucy was tied up.
‘Hi, Amy. Sorry you missed me yesterday. We’ve been on that CPD weekend I told you about in a hotel in deepest Norfolk and they took our phones away. What’s new?’
Amy told her all about the wall safe and the letter and she could hear how pleased her friend was to learn that that her paternity hunch had been right.
‘That’s amazing – he really was your father! And did he say he was a writer? At least he wasn’t a gangster like the man in the restaurant said.’
‘Quite, and not just any old writer. I checked out the books he’s written. He wrote under a female pen name. Have you ever heard of Danielle Stonehouse? I know the name, but I’ve never read any of her stuff.’
‘Wow, she’s a household name; I’ve read a couple of her books and they’re real tear-jerkers. Are you telling me she’s a man? How amazing! She writes wonderfully slushy emotional stuff: some contemporary, some historical romances. The last one I read was a family saga set at the time of the Renaissance. And so that was your dad…’
‘I’m still trying to come to terms myself with the fact that he was my father.’ Even just referring to him in these terms felt weird.
Lucy wasn’t Amy’s best friend for nothing. She must have picked up on something in her tone. ‘What’s the matter, Amy? Aren’t you pleased?’
Amy wasn’t sure how to answer. ‘Yes, of course I’m pleased, but there’s no getting away from the fact that I never knew him. The more I learn about him, the more he sounds like a fascinating, lovely man and yet I’ll never get to meet him, to talk to him…’ Her voice broke and the tears that had been sparking in her eyes all day finally started to run down her cheeks. ‘I never got to see him, to sit on his lap, to hug him. If only…’
As always, Lucy was only too keen to help out. ‘But you’ve got the next best thing. You’ve got the memory of a man who was widely admired and loved. Imagine if you’d discovered he was Jack the Ripper.’
In spite of herself, Amy found herself smiling. ‘You’re right, Luce, all I have is his memory but at least the memories are good.’
‘That’s the spirit, Amy.’ Lucy was clearly determined to shake her friend out of her melancholy. ‘So what are we going to do to celebrate? I wish I was able to come over sooner, but at the very least, we need to open a bottle of champagne when I get there on Tuesday night. I’ll buy one at the duty free.’
‘Don’t bother bringing wine with you, I’m swimming in the stuff here. I was too shell-shocked to celebrate last night and today I was invited for a huge lunch with some friendly neighbours. Tonight I’m going back to the house to get everything ready for when the builders come in tomorrow morning, so I’ll probably just have a glass of the local red and a quiet night in.’
But that wasn’t how it worked out.
A bit later on Amy went back to the house and up to the study where she picked out a mint edition of Far From Home by Danielle Stonehouse and brought it back downstairs. She was sitting on the old sofa, trying to summon up the courage to make a start on the book and thinking about pouring herself a glass of wine when there was a knock at the door.
Standing there outlined against the setting sun was a tall man holding what looked like a bottle of champagne. It was Adam.
‘Hi, Amy, is this a bad time?’
She could feel a broad smile appear on her face. ‘It’s a great time. Do come in. Can I offer you a glass of wine?’
He held up the bottle of champagne. ‘If you have the glasses, I have the wine – and it’s straight from the fridge.’
‘That’s very kind but there was no need to bring a bottle. I’ve just learnt that I’ve got hundreds of litres of wine due to me in back rent. Anyway, come in and take a seat and we’ll open your lovely champagne.’
She went off to the kitchen and with a struggle managed to locate a couple of clean wine glasses in a cardboard box on the floor. She had rescued these, along with a selection of plates, mugs and cutlery, from the old kitchen cupboards which were to be among the first things to be demolished when the builders arrived the next day. The rest of the cupboards’ contents had ended up in the huge pile of rubbish outside. She took the glasses back into the living room.
‘Sorry I couldn’t find any champagne glasses. Hope these will do.’
Adam opened the bottle with a minimum of fuss and with just a slight hiss. He filled the two glasses and passed one across to her. She perched on the end of the sofa and held up her glass.
‘It’s a happy coincidence that you’ve brought champagne. My friend Lucy was just telling me I should open a bottle.’
‘Really? Is it your birthday?’
‘Far more than that. I’m celebrating the fact that what you told me was right. I now know for certain that Martin Slater was my real father.’ She went on to tell Adam all about the letter in the safe and he beamed at her.
‘So you are Martin’s daughter.’ He clinked his glass against hers and drank deeply. ‘Cheers. I’m really happy for you. He would have been very proud of you, I know.’
Amy just managed to stop herself from crying all over again, but it was a close-run thing.
‘Thanks, Adam. I’m glad he had you as a friend.’
‘I was glad to know him. And without him I wouldn’t have met you.’ As if realising that might have sounded a bit too personal, he set his glass down and produced a white envelope from his pocket. ‘Here, I came to pay my debts. Thanks so much for translating those documents. We didn’t discuss how much you wanted so, for now, I’ve paid you on the same scale as the last time I had a translation agency in Rome do some stuff for me. If it isn’t enough, just say so.’
Amy shook her head and waved the envelope away. ‘Keep your money. I was happy to help. And I’d be happy to do any more if it’s needed.’
‘Are you sure?’ His brow furrowed in concern. ‘I told you I’d pay you…’
She gave him a reassuring smile. ‘Seriously, no. I did it as a friend, and now that I know that the man you were close to was my real father, that’s all the more reason for me not to accept your money. Let me know if you want any more help. Maybe filling in those forms for the tax people?’
‘Definitely, but they’re not due for months. I’m afraid I’m going to be away for a couple of weeks. I’m off on Tuesday at the crack of dawn – filming in Brazil – but maybe you could drop by one day when I get back.’ He corrected himself. ‘No, you’ll have the builders here and you’ll need to be here for them during the daytime, so why don’t we meet up one evening after they’ve finished?’
‘Yes, that’s probably the best solution, if you don’t mind.’
‘But first, if you can spare the time, I’d love to see you again. I promise to take you out for dinner to that restaurant I was telling you about, where I went with Mart… your father, but I’m tight for time before going away. But at the very least, might you be free for an aperitivo tomorrow night? I could meet you at the Corona Grossa. I want to thank you for helping with the translating, but also we need to celebrate your discovery of your true identity. I should really take you for a good meal but, like I say, I won’t have much time.’
‘That would be great, but are you sure you won’t be too busy getting ready for your trip?’
‘It’ll be a bit of a rush but I’ll be okay. Maybe if we make it early. How does six thirty sound?’
‘Well if you’re sure, that’s fine by me, thanks. I would have invited you here but with the builders starting in the morning it’ll be a while before this place is habitable.’
She felt a little pang at the thought that she wasn’t going to see him again for two weeks and by that time she wouldn’t have much holiday left. But at least she had tomorrow night’s quick drink to look forward to. There was no getting away from it: she had to accept the fact that the little ripples that shot through her every time she saw him were signs of attraction and she was looking forward eagerly to seeing him again. The big unknowns hanging over her head remained whether Adam was likely to have any interest in her as anything more than a friend and then, of course, there was the question of Gavin. Although he had been back in the UK for a week now, she still hadn’t heard a word from him. Normally she was the one who called him, but she had been deliberately maintaining radio silence – not even calling him to tell him about finding the letter in the safe – to see how long it took him to remember to call her. The answer to that one was: a long time.
She and Adam sat and chatted for a while and she found she could relax in his company. As they talked she studied him surreptitiously and she liked what she saw. Apart from looking good, he was friendly, articulate and she instinctively felt that she could trust him. She had dated a number of good-looking men in the past and had quickly realised that not all of them were as trustworthy as they should have been. Whether that description extended to Gavin remained to be seen, but she had her suspicions.
After a while Adam pointed at the book on the table. ‘I see he let you in on the big secret. I think I was just about the only person here that he told.’
‘Why all the secrecy? Somebody here the other day told me they thought he was a gangster.’
Adam laughed. ‘There were all sorts of theories doing the rounds but he wasn’t allowed to tell a soul – a clause in the contract with his publishers meant that he had to keep his true identity a secret in case the fact that the books were written by a man affected sales.’
‘I see. I wonder if that still applies now he’s dead? I’d better keep the news to myself until I get in touch with the publishers – but I’ll read at least one of his books first.’
As the clock neared eight o’clock she knew that she wanted to keep him here longer and started thinking of food.
‘I was out for a big lunch today so all I’ve got for dinner here are some biscuits and a questionable slab of cheese, but you’re very welcome to stay and share them with me if you like.’
He smiled. ‘That sounds enticing, but I’m just on my way down to the pizzeria to meet up with some guys from the tennis club to decide on the summer tournament. I’m afraid I can’t back out of it, much as I’d like to.’ Apparently unaware of the wave of disappointment that had run through her, he finished his champagne and stood up. ‘But I look forward to seeing you tomorrow at six thirty.’
She accompanied him to the door. ‘Thanks for the champagne.’
‘Thanks for doing the translations. You have no idea what a great help that’s been. See you tomorrow.’
‘A domani, Adam.’