Page 52 of Far from Home
She grinned back at him. ‘You’re quite right. There’s a whole heap of people I want to invite. I just need to get settled back in first.’
Danny came up with an idea. ‘Adam said he should be back some time on Thursday. Why don’t you plan your party for that night, make it a surprise welcome home party?’
Pierpaolo clapped his hands together excitedly. ‘Great idea. That way, Amy, you can get him drunk and have your way with him.’
Amy shook her head and smiled. ‘Haven’t you been listening to what I’ve been saying, Pierpaolo? You sound just like my friend Lucy. Adam and I are just going to be good friends and that’s fine by me.’ Hopefully the more often she said it, the more she would come to believe it. She held up a hand to stop him protesting. ‘You two will both come on Thursday evening, won’t you?’
‘Of course, and we’ll make sure your party’s memorable. You’re going to need food, drink and music.’ Danny was also smiling. ‘You look after the first two, and Pierpaolo and I’ll look after the music. Okay?’
‘That sounds great, but what sort of music were you thinking of? There’ll be quite a few older people like Signora Grande coming, and we don’t want to deafen them.’
Pierpaolo tapped the side of his nose and gave her a reassuring smile. ‘You leave that to us.’
Chapter 30
The next few days flew by. Amy set up her office in her father’s study and after a lot of soul-searching she finally gave in to Max’s persistent demands to be allowed to be up there with her. On Monday she went shopping and bought two dog beds – one for downstairs and one for upstairs in the study – but it came as no surprise to find him stretched out on the wooden floor beside her bed every morning all the same. She didn’t tell him off. It was good to have his company and as long as he didn’t try and climb into the bed with her again, she was quite happy.
She spent several hours phoning around or calling in on friends – not forgetting all the wonderful tradesmen – to invite them to Thursday’s party and she was delighted to find that almost everybody was prepared to come. When she was visiting Rosa and Vincenzo’s home, she received an excellent suggestion from her.
‘Why don’t you have a word with Giuliano at the restaurant and see if he can lay on the food for Thursday night? He’s done it for us in the past. His charges are very reasonable and it’ll save you an awful lot of bother.’
Amy did just that and came away from the restaurant later on feeling relieved. As far as she could count, there were going to be well over twenty people coming and she had been dreading all the preparation and cooking that would have been involved. This way she could carry on with her work, which looked as if it was only going to occupy a few hours of each day, and she would have plenty of time to go shopping for essentials ranging from plates and napkins, bottles of spirits, beer, mixers, to a selection of nibbles and nuts.
On Tuesday evening, she had just finished mopping all of the floor downstairs and she was sprawled on the sofa resting and recuperating, trying to summon up the energy to get up and make herself a snack, when the doorbell rang. Max, who had not been involved in any of the cleaning just glanced up from his recumbent position on the mat, yawned, and left it to her to heave herself to her feet and go and see who it was. She opened the door and her heart leapt.
‘Ciao, bella. I’m back!’
She gawped at him in disbelief. ‘Adam? I thought you weren’t coming back till Thursday.’ Before he could answer, she stepped forward and gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek, doing her best to ignore the little electric charge that went through her as she touched him. ‘Come in, come in.’
He followed her inside and closed the door behind him. Max, realising who it was, jumped to his feet and came across to give him a warm welcome. Adam bent down to make a fuss of him and spoke to Amy over his shoulder. ‘To be honest, we were supposed to be there for another couple of days, but I cut the trip short.’
‘Why was that? Did you get caught up in the fighting?’
Before he could answer, her phone started ringing and she gave him an apologetic look before answering it. It was Lucy with some good news. Amy had sent her an invitation to Thursday night’s party without any great expectation of her being able to come all the way to Tuscany, but it now appeared that this wasn’t going to be a problem after all.
‘I’ll see you on Thursday. Jack’s flying me over. By the way, is it all right if I bring him?’
‘Of course it is, I’m dying to meet him, and there’s bags of room here. What’s he doing? Chartering his own aircraft?’
‘No, he’s just swapped with another pilot on the Pisa run that day and I’ll fly over with him that afternoon and back again first thing next morning.’
‘I’ll come and pick you up from the airport.’
‘Don’t worry, Jack says he gets a special deal from a rental agency so we’ll make our own way there and back. Be with you about six.’ Lucy then unwittingly put Amy on the spot. ‘How are things with you and your man? Have you done the deal yet?’
Amy chose her words carefully. ‘Adam’s here with me at the moment. Hopefully he’ll be at the party and you can meet him.’
‘Do I deduce from your cautious tone that you still haven’t followed my advice? Either you’ve got far more self-control than I have, or you’re getting old.’
‘I’m six months younger than you and you’d better remember that. Anyway, must rush, I’m really pleased you’re coming on Thursday and with your very own pilot as well. Swanky.’ And she hastily rang off before Lucy could ask any more embarrassing questions. Returning her attention to Adam, who was now squatting on the rug alongside the dog, fighting over possession of one of the logs by the fireplace, she pointed towards the kitchen.
‘I’ve got a fridge full of fizz. Feel like a glass?’
He looked up and smiled. ‘As long as I’m not disturbing you.’ In spite of the smile, he was looking a bit less confident, a bit more insecure than usual, and she wondered what this might presage.
‘Definitely not.’ She went through to the kitchen and, as always, the slight squeak when she opened the fridge door reached the whole length of the house to Max’s acutely tuned food-oriented Labrador hearing and he abandoned the log and came trotting through just in case there might be food on offer. Adam followed behind a bit more slowly.
‘Here, I’ll do that.’ He took the bottle from her and whistled as he saw the label. ‘Wow, real French champagne. Are you celebrating something?’
