Page 40 of Far from Home
They were happy to oblige and managed to bring a dozen cases of empty bottles up from the cellar without discovering any unwelcome reptilian squatters down there. Pierpaolo also located a length of plastic tubing that had presumably been used by her father for this very same purpose. To cap it off, Pierpaolo, the local boy, spotted a big bottle of what the label described as oenological oil. He explained to her that the locals around here added a half inch of this clear, tasteless and odourless oil on top of the wine in all the bottles once these had been filled. He assured her that a cork simply pushed partway in by hand to keep out the dust afterwards was all the seal that was necessary to keep the oxygen from the wine. In that way the bottled wine would keep for many months without the need for a proper corking machine.
He then went back to scour the cellar and returned with a couple of sturdy brown paper bags, one containing little cone-shaped corks and one what looked like coarse brown cotton wool. He told her that this was in fact natural hemp. The locals called itstoppaand he demonstrated how she should dip this into a bottle to remove the oil before starting to drink the wine. Thestoppamagically absorbed the oil but not the wine and removed any trace of this simple method of conservation.
Amy was fascinated to learn about such a traditional way of doing things and vowed to get onto the task of decanting all fifty-three litres into bottles, but not until after her dinner party the following night. She had decided to make it an English meal, rather than trying to compete with Italian cuisine. Her plan was to give them cottage pie with cauliflower cheese, and to follow it up with summer pudding. She would have a go at bottling the wine on Monday and it occurred to her that there would then be the question of whether she was going to be here to drink any of it or whether she would find herself a thousand kilometres away in London. One thing was for sure: she wasn’t going to be able to take any with her on the aircraft.
Danny and Pierpaolo left a bit later on and she had time to complete most of what she wanted to do before the next day. Although she was keen to see if her menu turned out all right, most of her thoughts were on the adventurer’s return. By the time she went to bed, after settling Max on the rug by the empty fireplace downstairs, she felt sure she would dream about him but, as it turned out, she had other things to contend with. She fell asleep almost immediately but awoke several hours later feeling terribly hot.
Here inside the thick stone walls of the house the temperature on the previous nights had been quite bearable, but tonight she felt as though she was on fire. For one horrible moment the thought struck her that maybe she was having a delayed reaction to what she had believed to be porcini that she had eaten over twenty-four hours before – and which had been very tasty – but then the true reason for all the warmth revealed itself.
She felt movement and then a waft of far from aromatic dog breath hit her as a very happy Labrador stretched his whole body against her and gave a satisfied grunt. Amy slipped sideways until she could climb out of the far side of the bed. She walked around to where he was still lying sprawled on the bed like a femme fatale in a cheesy movie, his eyes glowing green in the moonlight as he stared up at her. Even in the shadows she could see a broad canine smile on his face.
‘Max! You shouldn’t be upstairs and you certainly shouldn’t be on the bed. Now scoot!’ He stretched luxuriously again and the end of his tail wagged lazily, but she knew she had to put her foot down. ‘I said get off! Come on, dog, you need to get off.’
Heaving a deep and heartfelt sigh, Max got up, stretched again and then let her guide him back to the floor where he promptly slumped down on the rug by the bed, clearly far too tired to consider using the stairs to return to the ground floor. Amy stood there helplessly for a few moments, debating whether to get tough or not, before finally deciding – in the words of the proverb – to let sleeping dogs lie. She crouched down beside him and, as she did so, a big black paw reached up towards her. She caught hold of it and looked him square in the eye. ‘Not on the bed,capito?’
Whether it was the linguistic cocktail or not, when she woke up next morning she was mildly surprised to find him still lying on the rug. As he saw her get out of bed, his tail started thumping on the wooden floor. She smiled down at him.
‘Ciao, bello, did you sleep well?’
He got to his feet and came over to nuzzle her knees. She ruffled his ears before pulling on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. After a quick visit to the new bathroom, she took Max out for his morning walk up through the fields. It was a delightful day and she knew she was really going to miss this place – and her canine companion. She had grown very fond of the big black dog over the past weeks and she would miss him if she took the decision to return to London. On a morning like this, the idea seemed crazy, but she tried to imagine how it would be in the depths of winter if she were to wake up to an empty house and the prospect of a day of doing nothing. She knew she had a low threshold of boredom and the idea of being stuck here, twiddling her thumbs, didn’t appeal in the slightest. As she walked up the hill she turned over and over again in her mind all manner of possible jobs from trying to emulate her father’s success as an author to growing vegetables and selling them at the local market. Needless to say, by the time she reached the top of the field, she was no closer to a decision.
She had a busy day getting ready for her guests, much of it spent in the kitchen. Partway through the morning she opened the French windows onto the garden and let Max wander outside. She kept an eye on him from time to time in case he should take it into his head to run off, but he stuck around and spent most of the day sleeping in the shade of the bushes. At the end of the afternoon she went upstairs and took a tepid shower to cool off and changed into one of the dresses she had brought over from England, reflecting that Lucy wouldn’t have approved of how little naked skin she was exposing. Still, when she surveyed herself in the mirror she had to admit that she looked pretty good. What effect – if any – this might have on Adam remained to be seen.
Chapter 23
Just after seven that evening Max gave a half-hearted woof, stood up and strolled across to the front door. Amy followed him to the door and opened it to find Pierpaolo with his hand raised, just about to knock. He stopped dead and took a step back, studying her closely before kissing his fingers and giving a theatrical bow.
‘Buona sera, Signora. Come sei bella!’ She was struggling to stop herself from blushing when he turned and reached behind him, emerging with his hand on Adam’s arm, tugging him forward. ‘I bet thesenhoritasin Brazil weren’t anything like as beautiful as our Amy, were they?’
Adam stepped forward, an apologetic expression on his face. ‘You’ll have to excuse Pierpaolo. He has no manners.’ She was then delighted when he came closer, reached out to catch her by the shoulders and pulled her towards him. When he kissed her – only a couple of chaste kisses on the cheeks – her knees almost gave way. Apparently unaware of the effect on her, he stepped back and gave her a smile. ‘Ciao, Amy. It’s really great to see you.’
Doing her best to regroup, she cleared her throat and replied in as normal a voice as possible. ‘It’s great to see you too. You had me worried for a while when you disappeared off the grid.’ As she spoke, she studied him carefully. He was looking fit and tanned, but noticeably leaner than the last time she had seen him and he had dark rings under his eyes.
‘I had me worried as well, but it could have been worse, a lot worse. Luckily Estevao, our guide, knew the jungle like the back of his hand, and he had an inbuilt natural compass. Even though we walked for days, when we emerged from the jungle we were right opposite the last village we had visited. Left to ourselves, Sammy and I would probably still be walking round and round in circles – if we hadn’t been eaten by something nasty.’ He grinned at her. ‘Do you still have snakes in your cellar? After some of the reptiles I’ve seen over the past weeks, I’d be quite happy to go down and clear them out for you with my bare hands.’
She repressed a shiver. ‘I might well take you up on that. I’m still scared stiff at the idea of going down there.’
‘You mean you haven’t inspected the contents of Martin’s cellar?’ Adam sounded surprised. ‘He had a nose for fine wines. You’ll be amazed at what you find down there. If you like I’ll accompany you one of these days and I’ll make sure you get back upstairs again unscathed.’
‘I might need a bit of Dutch courage first. Talking of that, what can I get you men to drink? I’ve got beer, wine, or gin and tonic if you like.’ As she headed to the kitchen to dig into the fridge for the drinks, Adam wandered around the living room, admiring the work that the builders had done. He then followed her into the kitchen and for a moment the thrill of having him all to herself was almost too much for her to bear, but the moment didn’t last long.
Barely a few seconds later, Pierpaolo appeared at her shoulder. ‘I know I said I’d have a beer, but I think I’ll have a gin and tonic if that’s all right, Amy.’
She suppressed a sigh of frustration. ‘Of course, the gin’s in the living room on the little table near the sofa. Here…’
She handed him out a cold bottle of tonic and some ice cubes, rather hoping that he would take the hint and disappear back into the living room, but no such luck.
Moments later Danny appeared with the two ceramic dishes she had made. Fully finished and glossy, they looked rather good and even her little Labradors around the edges looked sweet. She thanked him and was wondering how to get rid of him and his boyfriend so that she could have a few minutes alone with Adam, when Danny pointed towards the stairs and asked if she minded if he went up to take a look around. She was only too happy.
Unfortunately, as Danny turned and headed out towards the stairs, Adam opted to go with him, and a couple of seconds later Pierpaolo followed the other two, leaving her all alone in the kitchen – well, not quite alone. There was the ever-hungry Labrador sitting primly at her feet, his nose pointing into the fridge, and a look of longing on his face. She glanced down at him as she closed the fridge door.
‘I suppose if you can’t beat them, join them.’
Leaving the beer and the wine on the kitchen table she climbed the stairs in her turn. Behind her she could hear the click of the dog’s nails on the wooden stairs but she didn’t have the heart to tell him he shouldn’t be following her. As she climbed, she thought for a moment about Lucy’s plan A. Adam was now definitely on a tour of the house and would probably end up in her bedroom, but in this scenario he would be accompanied by two other men and a Labrador. This probably wasn’t quite what Lucy had had in mind. Despite her frustration, Amy felt a smile forming on her face.
She found the three men at the end of the corridor at the door of her father’s study, all of them looking serious. Adam turned towards her as she came up to them. ‘This was where he worked. It was his inner sanctum. He only brought me up here once.’
Amy nodded. ‘Apart from the new radiator, I’ve kept it exactly as it was. It makes me feel a little bit closer to him somehow.’
