Chapter 16 Rosie – Day 4
Rosie steps out of the house, closing the front door behind her. A voice from below makes her jump.
‘Afternoon, you look nice.’ Marianne smiles. She’s crouched down by a trug of ruby red flowers, a spade in her hand and an audiobook playing on her phone. She tugs off a garden glove and mutes the clipped narrator’s tones. ‘Where are you going, darling?’
Rosie tugs the puffy sleeves of her gingham pink sundress. ‘Theo’s giving me a tour of the local area.’
Theo had suggested an afternoon away, just the two of them.
It sounds perfect. The house is starting to feel claustrophobic.
It was torture lying next to Fenna at the pool all morning, pretending that everything was fine, that she didn’t see her husband have an illicit kiss with a young member of staff two nights before.
Her stomach was in knots any time Luke’s name was mentioned.
Sweat dripped down her temples when she batted off Fenna’s questions about their trip to the bar the other night. She’d had to get away and cool down.
Marianne stands, wincing as her knees loudly click. ‘I wanted to ask you something.’ Her mouth is drawn in a tight line.
‘Hmm?’
‘Has Theo said anything to you about Luke?’
‘Luke? No. Why?’
‘I think they might have had a little tiff. Apparently Luke threw Theo’s protein shake away because he wouldn’t give him one?
’ Marianne rolls her eyes. Roise allows herself to exhale.
‘Well, that’s what I’ve heard. They’re grown men, surely they wouldn’t be bickering about something as silly as that.
Hopefully, it’ll blow over. They need to know how important they are to one another.
Family is everything. I’d thought they’d grown out of this possessive stage.
Seriously, all that money I’ve wasted on therapists. ’
‘Therapists?’
‘Yes. After what happened to their dad it made sense they both saw a grief counsellor, and, over the years, Theo has needed to have some extra support. Seeing him smile again is wonderful. I can tell he is besotted with you.’
Theo had never confided to Rosie that he’d seen a therapist.
But she hasn’t revealed that she has, too.
Their attention is pulled by Gerry standing in the shade of a nearby tree. He waves his arms wide, amid a phone conversation that the two women only catch the end of.
‘. . . I was trying to do the right thing and give her a job. They moan about us having this place, so we try to help the economy and hire local workers to keep it running, but they take the piss.’
‘Carla’s not turned up today,’ Marianne adds for Rosie’s benefit.
‘He’s tried to get through to her but she’s ignoring his calls.
So now he’s moaning to Richard, our friend I told you about.
He recommended Carla to us. Gerry thought he might know someone else who can help us out.
But by the sounds of it it’s not going too well. ’
Perhaps Carla is lying low?
‘What’s wrong with expecting employees to have a sense of loyalty?’ Gerry grumbles down the phone.
‘I’m sure she’ll be here soon,’ Marianne says, fanning her face with a gardening glove.
‘Oh, before you go. Have you made plans for tomorrow? I thought we could all have a day out. Florence? Or Siena? Both have lovely galleries, and we could get a spot of lunch, maybe a glass of wine or two? It would be nice for the whole family to do something together.’
‘Sounds great.’ Rosie nods with a tight smile.
‘Wonderful. Have a good day, darling.’ Mariane leans over to kiss Rosie on the cheek, imprinting her heavy floral perfume on her clothes. The smell suffocates her. ‘Remember, if you can’t be good, be careful.’ She laughs.
A shiver rolls over her.
Be careful. Stai attento.
This is what Fenna said to little Alba by the pool earlier, warning her not to run in case she slipped. The same thing the taxi driver told her. Rosie remembers the look on his face. Her stomach twists. What did he mean? Why would a stranger bring her to Villa Speranza and tell her to be careful?
***
‘You took your time,’ Theo gets up from a bench beside the double-fronted garage.
‘Sorry. I got held up talking to your mum. She wants us all to go on a day out tomorrow.’
He looks handsome today in his cute straw sun hat, pale blue linen shirt and navy shorts. The sun has lightened his blonde hair and his skin is healthy and tanned, compared to the blisters on her sunburnt shoulders and the angry, red mosquito bites on her calves.
‘What?’ he says, self-consciously.
‘Nothing.’ She smiles.
There is a low rumble as he slides the garage door open, the metal wheezes on its hinges. A double-height space filled with boxes and tools is revealed. It smells of sawdust and oil.
‘I thought we’d do a tour of the countryside . . . in style,’ he says.
Her eyes land on the baby blue Vespa in the corner.
‘We’re going on this? Can you drive a moped?’
‘Course, I’m a man of many mysteries,’ he says with a wink. ‘When in Rome . . . or should that be Tuscany?’ Theo grins, handing her a polished cream helmet.
The Vespa zips past fields of drooping sunflowers. They’ve left Laprezia and joined a busy A road. Her arms are tight around his waist, her chest is nestled against his warm back, feeling the beat of his heart through his shirt.
After about twenty minutes, they come to a stop and he parks under a pointed cypress tree. She gets off as graciously as she can, unsticking the leather seat from the back of her thighs, and looks around. Her hair is sweaty from being pressed into the helmet.
‘This is Monterchi,’ Theo says, handing her a bottle of mineral water. ‘The views this high up are pretty awesome.’
Rosie gulps the tepid water and hands the bottle back.
It must be about thirty-three degrees today.
Other tourists have had the same idea for a day trip, as car after car revs up the hill looking for a parking spot.
She marvels at the view. It’s like stepping back into the past. Cats sunbathe in patches of sun on cobbled streets.
Italian gentlemen chatter as they play dominoes on a folded-out table, gesticulating wildly with hands and slamming of palms. Limp cigarettes dangle from their mouths.
There is the smell of hot diesel from dusty convertible Jeeps that drive past. An accordion player sits below a walnut tree.
What little hair he has left is slicked back, black threads shimmering in the sun.
His calloused knuckles dance over the ivory keys.
It is a world away from Laprezia. There’s life here.
The mediaeval walls of the village snake out below them. It’s an incredible vantage point. Theo goes to pay for parking. Rosie holds her phone up to take a photo, but her attention is pulled from the view.
There’s an appeal poster tacked to a rusty red post box, near where she’s standing.
The ghost of Danielle Dixon is everywhere.
Theo strides over. ‘The machine wasn’t working.’ He shields his eyes from the sun, trying to see what’s caught Rosie’s attention. A cloud passes over, dimming the light for a second.
‘What do you really think happened to her?’ Rosie nods to the poster.
There’s a long, drawn-out silence.
‘I don’t know, it’s complicated, but sometimes people don’t want to be found.’
‘You think she’s run away?’ She’s surprised. Everyone else seems to be so certain the poor girl is at the bottom of the lake. ‘Fifteen years is a long time to be missing. To leave no trace behind.’
He shrugs. ‘What do I know? I’m not a detective.’ He moves to the side to let a group of determined tourists pass.
The click-click of their hiking sticks goes through Rosie.
Theo wraps a heavy arm across her sunburnt shoulders. ‘Come on, you. Let’s get a drink. I’m melting here.’
***
After a couple of hours exploring Monterchi, they stop off for a handmade gelato.
It’s hard to choose from the mouth-watering selection of ice-cream flavours.
She eventually picks artisanal fig and honey in a wafer cone, served by a man with a booming laugh and a glint in his eye.
They sit in the shade of an olive tree, far away from the bin clouded with wasps, and she brings up the conversation she had with Marianne.
‘Your mum told me you’d had therapy?’ Rosie says, licking a dribble of ice-cream that’s trailing down her hand.
Theo has finished his tub of lurid green pistachio ice-cream. ‘I didn’t realise she was sharing so much so soon.’ He shakes his head with a smile. ‘It’s good, it means she trusts you.’
Rosie lets out a sigh of relief. ‘Did something happen?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean, for you to get therapy?’
‘It was a while ago. Mum was big into getting me and Luke to talk about our feelings when we were kids. She made us both have counselling when Dad died.’
Rosie and Theo lost their fathers when they were younger but it’s not a subject they dwell on, for many reasons.
He pauses for a moment. The sparkle dims in his eyes. ‘She thinks we bottle too much up.’ Theo looks as if he’s about to say something else, but he pulls himself up. ‘Come on,’ he says with a smile, shaking himself out of his reverie. ‘We should make a move.’
***
They arrive back in Laprezia but instead of turning towards Villa Speranza, Theo unexpectedly parks on a side street.
‘I thought we were going back to the house?’ she asks, glancing around as he turns the engine off.
‘I lost one of my AirPods when I was running the other day. You don’t mind if I have a quick look for it?’ he says.
Yes, she does mind. She’s thirsty and her feet are aching from walking up and down the cobbled hills. She wants to get changed out of her sweaty summer dress and lie in a cool, dark room.
‘Nope, it’s fine.’
‘Wait here. I’ll be five minutes.’ He plants a quick kiss on her head, and jogs away, not picking up on her irritation at this unexpected stop.
Rosie wishes Theo had at least parked under a shady tree.
She wanders further down the road into the town to find somewhere cool to sit.
On her way, she sees vibrant green parakeets with a distinctive red beak, yellow throat and long tapered tails.
They appear in faded murals on the side of old buildings, and as moulded metal shapes as if perching on road signs. She’s not seen an actual bird yet.
She peers in the window of a closed-down shop.
Her eyes land on a small parrot ornament covered in a thick layer of dust. There’s a framed print behind it.
She blinks. It’s a photo of the lake, and reflected in the still water is a mass of vivid green as hundreds of parakeets take flight into the sky above.
It must have been an incredible sight. The birds by the lake were once a huge draw for the area.
Now tourists spend their money in other towns, away from the place linked to a young girl’s disappearance.
She thinks of how busy Monterchi was. No wonder people here are upset and want answers.
‘Found it.’ Theo holds a white AirPod in the air, breaking her thoughts.
‘How did you know where it would be?’ she asks.
‘That’s my running route.’ He nods to the footpath through a metal gate. Thorn bushes line the sides. That’s where he must have fallen the other day.
As he walks ahead to the scooter, she glances back at the cheerful images of the exotic parakeets. Like Danielle, will they ever return?