Page 14 of Never Too Late
Cesare and Steph drove into Lerici just after three. On the way they chatted about the scenery, the weather and their respective jobs, but neither of them raised the subject of today’s big row at the lunch table. That was strictly Bailey family business. As Cesare threaded his way through the narrow, crowded streets, they passed a Hotel Shelley, a Trattoria Byron and a Caffè dei Poeti. Clearly Lerici was proud of its literary heritage and not ashamed of flaunting it. Cesare managed to squeeze into a tight parking space in one of the side streets where he told her they had just one hour before the traffic wardens would pounce. After arranging to meet back at the car no later than four thirty, he went off to pick up the bits of shopping he needed while Steph wandered down to the seafront.
Although the main Italian holiday month of August was over, the town was still very busy, and she could only imagine the chaos and confusion there must be here at the height of the summer. When she reached the water, it was to find it almost completely carpeted with boats. There were sailing boats of all sizes, speedboats and larger luxury yachts moored in the huge marina or anchored out in the bay. Over to the left was the imposing castle on the rocky headland, while a large grey warship was making its way over to the naval base at La Spezia several miles to the north. It was a busy, vibrant place and very different from the peace and quiet – when not interrupted by family arguments – of Keith and Faye’s hideaway barely a handful of kilometres along the coast to the south of here.
Aware that she only had limited time, Steph set off to find an anniversary present for her hosts and another ‘smart’ dress for herself. It took almost the whole hour, but she finally emerged from the shops with a lovely sea blue and white striped dress, a new pair of shorts, a couple of tops and, remarkably, a vintage grey T-shirt advertising the Royalty tour of Italy in 2007. As far as a present for Keith and Faye was concerned, she found a pair of wisteria plants in a pot, their young branches lovingly entwined, one hung with a simple pink ribbon and the other a light blue one. The florist had even managed to produce a bow withBuon Anniversarioon it.
It wasn’t the easiest of things to carry and she was relieved to find an ice-cream parlour only a few doors up from where the car was parked where she could set her purchases down and sit at a table on the pavement and wait for Cesare. While waiting, she ordered a bowl of apricot, dark chocolate, and meringue ice cream which tasted every bit as good as it looked.
As she savoured the ice cream, she let her mind roam and thought, yet again, of Ethan and the end of their three-year liaison. To say she had mixed feelings was to understate the confusion in her head. She had been fond of him for a long time, and it was sad to see the relationship splutter to an end in this way. Although things had been building towards a showdown, the knowledge that it was now over was unsettling, particularly as they would still be working closely together. The great unknown was how that would pan out.
At the same time she kept thinking back to the effect the appearance of Robert had had on her last night when he had emerged from the sea with his dog. She couldn’t escape the fact that she had found Keith and Faye’s younger son unexpectedly appealing but, even though she was now no longer emotionally linked to Ethan, she knew she would do well to stay clear of someone like Robert for two reasons.
Firstly, because he was rich and famous. Enviable as it might appear from the outside, she felt sure there was no place for somebody ‘ordinary’ like her in an environment where people gave each other cars as birthday presents and lived in multi-million-pound villas.
Secondly, and more importantly, she was well aware of Rob Sinclair’s reputation – but not as a violinist. The tabloids were full of photos of him with an ever-changing panoply of beautiful women. She had even read an article inLa Stampain which the writer accused him of trying to emulate his violin-playing hero, Paganini, whose reputation as adonnaiolo, or womaniser, had scandalised audiences back in the eighteen hundreds. She had no intention of joining the ranks of this modern-day Paganini’s cast-offs. She remembered that Paganini had been one of her father’s idols, but no doubt this had been because of his prowess as a musician rather than his amorous activities.
‘Ciao, Stefania. Look who I’ve bumped into.’
Her mind had been so far away as she finished her ice cream, absently staring into the middle distance, that she didn’t notice Cesare until he spoke to her – in Italian as was their custom. She looked up to see him standing alongside her table with another figure behind him. He stepped to one side and Steph realised that his companion was none other than the man she had just been thinking about: Robert Bailey, aka the virtuoso violinist Rob Sinclair, a womaniser to be avoided like the plague. Taking a deep breath, she rose to her feet as Cesare made the introductions.
‘Stefania, this is Robert, Signor Keith’s other son. I don’t know if you’ve met him before.’
Struggling to sound relaxed, Steph gave them both a smile and answered. ‘Yes. Robert and I met briefly last night.’ She switched to English. ‘Isn’t your lovely dog with you today?’ She was relieved to hear that the butterflies that had started flitting about in her stomach didn’t appear to have transferred to her voice. As she addressed him, a puzzled air appeared on his face.
‘Not today.’ Once again all she managed to get out of him was little more than a monosyllabic reply. Before she could ask for more, he switched to Italian and returned his attention to Cesare, avoiding looking at her, even though it was her question he was answering.
‘I left Waldorf at the villa with Donatella. It’s too crowded here in town, and he isn’t used to being on a lead.’ His Italian was impeccable. ‘He has an unfortunate habit of sticking his nose into places that he shouldn’t. Anyway, I’m sure you need to get on.’ As far as Steph was concerned, he couldn’t have made it any clearer that he wanted to get away fromheras soon as he could. Although this tied in with what she had just been thinking, it was somehow galling to find that this well-known womaniser wasn’t interested in her. Okay, so she wasn’t rich or a celebrity, but it would have been good to see at leastsomeattraction on his part.
Fortunately, before the conversation could get any more awkward, Steph noticed something. Her eyes were drawn a bit further up the road to where a woman in uniform was working her way down the row of parked cars towards them. ‘Isn’t that a traffic warden, Cesare?’
‘It certainly is. Well spotted. We need to go. Roberto, do you need a lift? How did you get here? On foot?’
A look of what could only be relief spread across Robert’s face as he shook his head. ‘No, I came on the bike. Off you go before you get a fine.’
‘See you at the weekend for the boat trip.’
Robert’s face fell. ‘Afraid so.Ciao.’
All he produced was the slightest wave of the hand and Steph was left feeling a bit miffed, even if she had managed to drag another three whole words out of him. She reminded herself that after the Ethan debacle the last thing she wanted was any kind of involvement with another man – particularly one with a reputation like Rob Sinclair’s – but surely just common courtesy should have made him exchange a few more words with her. Even if he didn’t fancy her, he could have been a bit friendlier, couldn’t he?
On the way back to the villa she was sorely tempted to ask Cesare what reason Robert might have for ignoring her in this way, but she bit her tongue and decided to say nothing for fear of putting Cesare into the uncomfortable position of having to discuss yet another one of his employers’ sons. Instead, she asked about Keith and Faye’s anniversary party on Friday, and he explained that it was to be a celebratory cruise across the bay past La Spezia towards the romantic little town of Portovenere with a picnic on the island of Palmaria. Steph had never heard of either and Cesare told her she had a treat in store.
‘Portovenere’s a kaleidoscope of colours. It has to be one of the most picturesque places on the Italian coast. Mind you, it’s become unbelievably expensive. My brother-in-law used to live there, but he sold up and moved to La Spezia where he got an apartment twice as big for half the cost.’
‘And the island?’
‘The part where we’re going should be completely deserted. Hopefully we’ll have the place to ourselves. Don’t forget to bring your swimming things. You enjoy swimming, don’t you?’
‘It’s about the only exercise I do regularly. Mind you, back home it’s just in the local swimming baths. Swimming in the sea’s a real treat for me.’
‘Robert does a lot of swimming. He swims all year round.’
With an effort, Steph did her best to banish from her mind the image of Robert emerging from the sea dripping wet, and ended up quizzing Cesare about him all the same. ‘What about him? I gather there’s bad blood between him and his brother and that’s why he hasn’t been eating with us. I suppose he has to come on Sunday, even if Denver’s going to be there, doesn’t he?’ She could have added ‘even ifI’mgoing to be there’, judging by Robert’s attitude towards her but, once again, she steered clear of putting Cesare on the spot.
She saw him nod. ‘I’m sure he will come, for his parents’ sake, but you could see that he isn’t looking forward to it. As soon as Denver and his… lady arrived, Robert stopped coming up to the villa.’ He shook his head ruefully. ‘He and his brother have been at it like cats and dogs since before I first met them. The signora says it’s a feud that goes back to their childhood.’
‘But on Sunday they’ll both be in the same boat for a full day. Let’s see how that works out.’
Chapter 7
