Page 28 of Never Too Late
‘Ha! Just because I can play the piano a bit!’
‘Don’t forget your expertise as a chauffeur.’ She could hear the humour in his voice, and she had to struggle not to let herself fall for his charming manner just as so many women had already done. Apparently unaware of the effect he was having on her, he continued. ‘As for the piano, from what my dad was telling me, you have a real gift – and not just for the modern stuff. He says you play classical equally well.Complimenti, as the Italians say. As for Royalty, he even described you as “the new Vince”. And, believe me, he doesn’t hand out compliments unless they’re merited.’
Steph couldn’t repress the little surge of pride and hope for the future that this produced in her. Could it really be that she might some day find herself sharing a stage with one of the greatest bands of all time? The idea was breath-taking, but she knew she would do well not to count her chickens.
It was almost nine thirty when they turned off the motorway onto the road over the hills towards Lerici. Steph was feeling a bit tired by this time but not too bad. She was happy that she and Rob – he had insisted she should call him that – had been able to talk naturally about so many things without any awkward silences. They hadn’t discussed relationships – whether between him and his older brother, or his alleged legions of random girlfriends, or hers with Ethan – and she’d also avoided mentioning her trip to the hospital on Tuesday, but other than those grey areas, they had been able to talk more freely than ever.
Getting through Lerici at this time of night was relatively quick and they were soon on the winding coast road. As they approached the gates to the villa, he pointed towards them.
‘Just park at the villa and I’ll walk over to my place. I can pick up the car in the morning.’
She shot him a smile. ‘No, as an experienced chauffeur I insist on taking you to your final destination. You’ll just have to tell me where to turn off.’
The turnoff was barely a hundred metres further on. A gravel track led off to the right and they bumped along it to his house. When they reached the gates to his property these opened automatically, and she drove through and drew up outside his house. As the car stopped, a security light came on, illuminating the charming old brick building. She turned off the engine and stretched, staring through the windscreen at the house.
‘What a beautiful place to live.’ And it was. It wasn’t a big house, but it looked as though it had always been there. Sandwiched between a massive palm tree on one side and an olive grove on the other, it had bags of character, looked great and was very appealing – not dissimilar to its owner, but far less potentially dangerous. As she opened the car door, her ears picked up the sound of whining and barking from inside the house and she realised that Waldorf had recognised his master’s car. She looked across at Rob as he came around to join her. ‘Has Waldorf been stuck inside all day?’
‘No, I dropped him off with Donatella before leaving. He loves being with her and she always spoils him rotten. I asked her to bring him back here before dark. That means he’s been on his own for a couple of hours now, so I imagine he’s going to be happy to see us.’ He pulled out his keys. ‘I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry. If you don’t mind slumming it, could I offer you something to eat?’
She had to think before answering. Clearly this invitation would involve going into his house and, unless you counted the Labrador, this would mean finding herself alone with a man whose dubious reputation with women preceded him. Reluctantly, she decided it was best to decline. ‘Thanks, but I don’t want to put you to any bother. I think I’d better get back.’
‘It won’t be any bother, and I’d be honoured if you’d join me.’
Steph’s stomach had been rumbling for an hour now, and she knew she didn’t want to trouble Cesare and Donatella at this time of night, so she took a deep breath and hoped she wasn’t going to regret this. ‘Well, thank you, I’d love to join you for a quick bite…’ Hopefully he would get the message that this was all she was signing up to.
She followed him across to the hefty old front door and he unlocked it. No sooner had he opened it than the Labrador came charging out, tail wagging furiously, and stood up on his hind legs to greet his master enthusiastically. Spotting Steph, he then transferred his attentions to her and almost knocked her flat as he did so, but at least this time he was perfectly dry, and her dress didn’t suffer as a result.
‘Waldorf, leave the lady alone.’
Steph rather liked being called a lady. Ethan had called her a whole lot worse at times. ‘Waldorf’s fine. We’re old friends now.’
The three of them went inside and Steph found herself in a big open-plan room with a kitchen area at one end and glazed arches along the wall facing the sea. The floor was made of old terracotta tiles and the vaulted ceiling was held up with an intricate pattern of interlocking wooden beams that looked like the upturned skeleton of an old ship. She went across to the windows and peered through the glass and saw the lights of Lerici and La Spezia curling away to the right while straight ahead and to the left everything was pitch black.
‘How does ham, cheese and garlic bread sound? Or if you’re hungrier, I could make an omelette, or I’ve got some of Donatella’s tomato soup in the freezer.’ She turned back to see Rob at the kitchen end of the room with his dog sitting at his feet, an expectant look on his face.
‘Whatever you’re having will be fine, thanks. Please don’t go to any bother; I certainly don’t need anything more than some garlic bread and cheese. You should have seen the size of the ice cream I had at lunchtime.’ Her brain immediately homed in on the fact that they would both be eating garlic, so it wouldn’t matter if they kissed, and she gave herself a telling off. Kissing this man was definitely not on the menu. Before leaping into some romantic fantasy with a most unsuitable man she would do well to stop and reflect on the impossibility of this leading to anything meaningful, even if he were to turn out to be interested in her. And, so far, all he had demonstrated was simple friendship. Mumbling ‘Get a grip’ to herself, she walked over to offer help.
‘Can I get something, cut the bread, do anything?’
‘There’s a loaf over there, so you could cut a few slices and give Waldorf the crust if you like while I go and sort out my eyes. He knows he always gets the crust and he’ll probably start drooling if he doesn’t.’ He headed for the door but stopped and looked back as she was reaching for the big round loaf of crusty white bread. ‘And you could open a bottle of wine if you feel like it. There’s rosé and white in the fridge, or red in the cupboard alongside. You decide. Corkscrew’s in that drawer and the glasses are on the shelf above the sink.’
She sliced the bread and handed the crust to a grateful Labrador who disappeared with it to his basket in the corner of the room and started crunching it with evident satisfaction. Opening the fridge, she located a bottle of cold rosé, pulled out the cork and was filling two glasses when Rob returned, blinking. He had obviously ditched his remaining contact lens and was now wearing glasses. If anything, they added to his attraction, but she did her best to ignore such things.
‘Better?’
‘Thank God for that. I can see again.’
She set his glass down beside him and raised hers. ‘Cheers, and thanks a lot for the offer of a meal.’
He picked up his glass and clinked it against hers, those sea blue eyes meeting hers for a moment or two as he did so. ‘Hardly a meal; more of a snack really. Anyway, thank you for driving me back.’ He was sounding very formal.
She took a sip of the wine and murmured appreciatively. ‘Mmm, this is good. Is it local?’
‘Sort of. I get my rosé and my white from a little man in Tuscany, and Cesare gets the red wine from a place he knows up in Piedmont.’ He grinned at her. ‘As I’m sure you know, Italians take their wine and food very seriously, and now that I’m a full-time resident over here I’m doing the same.’
‘My dad was very happy living in London, but he never gave up his love for Italian food and wine. Although Mum’s a very good cook, Dad used to love doing traditional Italian dishes and he taught me how to make stuff like risotto, potato gnocchi and all different types of pasta… oh yes, and how to make a real tiramisù. He had a whole lot of contacts in London who got him the right salami, the right cheeses and the right wine. He was from Venice so, of course as far as he was concerned, the best wine in the world was from that area. You know how territorial the Italians are about their food and wine.’ Thoughts of her father dampened her mood and it must have shown on her face.
‘Still miss him?’ She nodded and he continued. ‘Was he your inspiration for choosing to do music?’
