Page 29 of Never Too Late
‘My mum plays the piano very well and she taught me a lot, but Dad was the one who pushed me to do all my grades even when, as a teenager, I was more interested in other things. I’m grateful to him now, even if I wasn’t always at the time.’ She took another sip of wine as Rob slid the slices of bread into the toaster and headed for the fridge. ‘What about you? Your dad was your inspiration, presumably.’
He was digging in the fridge for cheese and ham and his voice was muffled. ‘To an extent. Music’s always been big in our family but growing up as the son of a rock star can have its downsides.’
‘Such as?’ She was delighted to hear him opening up to her.
‘Such as being packed off to a snooty boarding school full of Hooray Henrys.’ When he emerged from the fridge, he had located no fewer than five different cheeses and a package of sliced cured ham. ‘You likeprosciutto e melone?’
‘That sounds perfect, thanks. You went to boarding school?’
‘For four years until my folks finally settled down near Oxford. Before that they were zooming off all over the world. I hardly saw them, my father in particular, for months on end. For an eight-year-old kid it wasn’t a bundle of fun.’
‘I can imagine. Can I help with the melon?’
He reached into the fridge once more and emerged with a plump grey-green cantaloupe melon. ‘If you don’t mind, that would be great.’
She found a sharp knife and sliced the melon in half, revealing the succulent orange flesh inside. As she divided one half into slices and set about trimming them, she returned to the story of his life. ‘How come you chose classical music? Surely all the influences must have been for modern stuff?’
‘That was down to Mrs Dooley, my first great love.’ He set about rubbing the slices of hot toast with a fat clove of garlic until this had disintegrated in his fingers. He then pulled out an old straw-covered Chianti flask and drizzled thick greenish olive oil from it onto the bread. Meanwhile, Steph was curious about his first great love.
‘Tell me about Mrs Dooley. I hope her husband wasn’t jealous.’
‘Of an eight-year-old? I doubt it. She was the music teacher at school, and she rapidly became my mentor, surrogate mother and muse. We’re still in touch, and I send her tickets any time I’m playing in the UK. She has trouble with her ears nowadays so she can’t fly, or I’d get her over here. She would have loved this afternoon. Fiesole’s a wonderful setting and Tchaikovsky always was one of her favourites. She was the first person to put a violin in my hands and I’ll be eternally grateful to her.’
He looked up, a nostalgic expression on his face. ‘The violin became my best friend at school. I used to hide myself away and play whatever came into my head and forget about the bullies, the loneliness, and the fact that I hardly ever saw my parents. I owe her a lot. When I left that awful school, she was the only thing I missed.’ He sprinkled a pinch of salt over the slices of toast and looked up. ‘Right, I think we’re good to go. Shall we eat?’
They sat opposite each other at a table by the window. At her request, he dimmed the light above the table so that she could admire the view over the sea. This also had the advantage of limiting her view of him and those magnetic eyes – glasses or no glasses. There was no getting away from it: being with him felt really good. If it hadn’t been for his reputation and the complications of their diverging career paths, she could easily have fallen for him. Big time.
While they ate, she realised that the sea in front of her was no longer completely dark as she had first thought. As her eyes became acclimatised, she made out the lights of a large cruise liner making its way up the coast a few miles out. She found herself wondering what Paganini would have made of a vessel carrying thousands of passengers. Back when this place was built, the only ships would have been powered by sails or oars alone.
By the time she and Rob reached the end of their meal, she felt she knew him a lot better and her affection for him had grown. She even found herself thinking that maybe a short-lived affair while she was over here might not be such a bad idea after all. No sooner had this thought crossed her mind than her Jiminy Cricket of a brain was already telling her she was crazy. The only thing this would bring would be heartbreak and, if the tabloids got hold of it, shame and ignominy. Besides, although she could feelheraffection forhimgrowing, so far he had been friendly, but nothing more. The fact was that he was a big name in the world of classical music and there were heaps of far more suitable and attractive women out there wishing for nothing more than to get together with him. Best to steer clear of him… but it wasn’t easy.
At eleven o’clock he insisted on walking her back to her accommodation with Waldorf trotting happily in front of them and occasionally disappearing into the trees before reappearing once again, his eyes glowing green in the starlight. It was a warm night, but since the storm of a few days ago there was no longer that same suffocating heat. Autumn was slowly beginning to make its presence felt and she wondered what this place would be like in midwinter. One thing was for sure, however: she wouldn’t be here to find out.
When they reached the door to the guest suite she stopped and turned towards him, unsure what was going to happen next. In spite of her conviction that getting involved with him would set her on a hiding to nothing, she also knew without a doubt, as she stood there on that warm Italian night, that if he were to kiss her she would respond. He turned towards her and there was an agonising hiatus of a few seconds that felt like hours, before he gave her a little wave and stepped back.
‘Thanks, again, Steph.’
Repressing a stab of regret, she started breathing again and summoned a smile. ‘Thank you for the meal and thanks for a wonderful afternoon. I’ll always remember it.’ She almost added, ‘I’ll always remember you,’ but she didn’t.
He didn’t respond at once and it looked for a moment as though he was going to say or even do more, but in the end he must have thought better of it as he gave her a little smile before turning away.
‘Ciao, Steph.’ He and his dog were about to disappear into the darkness when she heard him add, almost under his breath, ‘And I’ll always remember tonight.’
Chapter 14
Next morning Steph got up a bit later than usual after what had turned out to be a good night’s sleep once she had managed to get Rob out of her head and finally drop off. The good news was that thoughts of him had prevented her from obsessing about the upcoming biopsy. When she got up to the villa for breakfast on the terrace it was to find no sign of Ethan, whose bedroom door had been closed as she walked past. She had seen and heard nothing of him last night, and it was almost nine by now so she hoped he hadn’t done anything stupid. She sat down opposite Keith and Faye and recounted how she had managed to drive Rob back safely and how he had given her dinner. Faye looked impressed but this was not, as it turned out, on account of her driving prowess.
‘He actually invited you into his house?’ Steph saw her exchange looks with Keith. ‘But he behaved himself, right?’
Steph was quick to reassure them. ‘He was a perfect gentleman.’ She could see incredulity on Keith’s face, but Faye looked remarkably satisfied.
‘That’s real progress. Maybe he’s changing after all. Well done.’
Steph could feel the eyes of both of them on her, but she was saved by the arrival of Cesare from the house.
‘Ciao, Stefania, you got back all right?’
She repeated what she had just told Rob’s parents and saw a smile appear on his face. ‘Very good. I’m glad you two are getting on. Now what can I bring you: your usual or something else? I’ve made a fresh fruit salad if you like.’
