When Sophie got back with Jeeves from their early morning walk, she was surprised to find Chris already outside the back door, sifting through the junk pile. Next to him were half a dozen objects ranging from a gruesome-looking rusty metal poker to a moth-eaten top hat in a battered velvet case, all of which he had salvaged from the heap. Over breakfast he told her all about the items he had identified and she could feel his enthusiasm. Like a bloodhound on the trail, he was in his element. Rita didn’t come in on Saturdays so there were no warm croissants, but Sophie had planned ahead and there was more than enough to choose from, including a fruit tart she had made the previous day topped with apricots from their own trees. She was delighted to see him pick up a piece, taste it, murmur appreciatively, and then return to his favourite subject.
‘At a conservative estimate, the few bits and pieces I’ve rescued from your junk pile should bring in several hundred pounds, maybe a whole lot more. Add in the LPs I saw last night, you must be nudging the thousand pound mark and that’s just the stuff you were slinging out. If you like I can take the LPs back with me. We’ve got a music memorabilia sale coming up at the end of August. When can I see the rest of it?’
By eight o’clock he was already on the top floor up to his armpits in dust, working his way through the room where she had put the items she had deemed worthy of keeping to be sold at the antiques fair. When she showed him the two remaining rooms still dotted with boxes, he was like a little kid in a candy store. She helped as much as she could but it was clear he wanted to take a good look at everything by himself so she ended up standing at the doorway, keeping up a desultory conversation as she watched him happily ferreting about. She would dearly have liked to ask him more about the woman he had mentioned with whom nothing was going to happen but the opportunity didn’t present itself. As for embarking upon some sort of meaningful dialogue about the exact nature of their own relationship, now was definitely not the time. He was clearly totally absorbed by his antiques hunt.
She took a closer look at him as he sorted through the objects and almost for the first time she realised two things: he really was a good-looking man – well, she had always known that, but she now realised that the sensation currently coursing through her body was none other than desire. From the breadth of his shoulders and the strong muscles in his legs and arms, it was obvious that he must have been working out recently. Back in the days when he and Claire had been together, he had never, to her knowledge, done more than play squash – albeit at a high standard – but such had been her gloom and despondency over the past year after the Claudio debacle that she had failed to see that he had slimmed down and toughened up noticeably since splitting from Claire. Never having seen him with his shirt off, she suddenly found herself wondering what he would look like in his swimming shorts and this also came as a shock to the system. This appeared to be the confirmation that she really did fancy him. But whether he fancied her remained unknown, although by the sound of what he had said last night, she wasn’t going to be first on his list.
After a while she went down to the kitchen and found Rachel in there having breakfast.
‘Where’s Chris?’
‘Upstairs.’
For an instant she caught a spark in her sister’s eyes. Rachel had disappeared off to bed last night, leaving Sophie and Chris to watch the end of the movie together.
‘So does that mean you and he…?’
‘No, it doesn’t. He’s been on his hands and knees amidst all the junk on the top floor since eight o’clock. You know when Jeeves is rooting around in the dry leaves for his tennis ball, tail wagging? Well, that gives you an idea of the scene.’
‘At least it gave you a chance to take a good look at his butt.’ Rachel gave her an encouraging smile. ‘Any developments since I last saw you?’
Sophie shook her head. ‘Nope, but I keep thinking about that thing he said.’
‘About fancying some other woman?’
‘Yes.’
‘And you have no idea who he might have meant?’
‘None at all.’
‘Has it occurred to you he might have meant you?’
‘Me?’ Sophie hadn’t thought of that. ‘But he said nothing could ever happen…’
‘Which is what he would say if he was talking about his best friend, isn’t it?’
Sophie’s brain cleared. ‘But then that thing about asking some random girl, not me, to dance? No, he can’t have been thinking of me, I’m sure.’
‘All right, if you say so, but I’m still not sure. Assuming he didn’t mean you, he said he didn’t think he had a chance with this woman, so the coast’s still clear for you.’
‘I don’t know…’ In fact, Sophie reckoned she did. Last night when they were sitting alone at the TV would surely have given him a chance at least to hint at something, and he hadn’t taken it. ‘No, I think I’m on a hiding to nothing with him. Anyway, I’d better go back up and see how he’s getting on.’
By the time Rachel called up to them an hour or so later with the news that Dan had arrived and there was coffee in the kitchen, Sophie was feeling uncomfortably hot and Chris was dripping with sweat. There was no aircon up here and the heat of the sun was radiating through from the roof above. Even so, she almost had to drag him away from his treasure hunt. Again to her amazement, she found that gripping his arm and tugging his sweaty body towards her aroused feelings in her that were very different from the way she used to think of him.
‘It’s time you took a break, Chris.’ She glanced at her watch and saw that it was almost eleven o’clock. He had been hard at it for three solid hours. ‘Besides, Dan’s here and you wanted to ask him something, didn’t you? Come down and have a coffee and a rest. You deserve it.’
Downstairs Dan was sitting at the kitchen table with Rachel and, by the sound of it, she had been relating the sorry saga of what had happened to her the previous night with Dario’s wife. He looked up as Sophie and Chris came in and shook his head in disbelief. ‘What’s wrong with some guys? Rachel’s just been telling me her tale of woe.’
Sophie just rolled her eyes and shrugged helplessly while Chris sat down beside Dan and opened his laptop. Sophie and Rachel crowded round behind the two men and stared down at the image on the screen. As Chris had said, it was the portrait of a serious-looking elderly man in elaborate robes wearing a distinctive cap with an unusual blunt point sticking up at the rear.
‘Mind if I take a closer look?’ Dan sounded fascinated.
‘Help yourself, please.’
Dan studied the painting very carefully, enlarging parts of the scene and dwelling in particular on the hat. In the end he sat back and gave his verdict.
‘Well, I think I can definitely tell you what he is, although I’m not sure of his name – yet. That hat he’s wearing is the traditional head covering of a Doge of Venice.’
‘Of course, I should have known that.’ Chris’s voice was a mixture of excitement and annoyance at himself. He glanced momentarily over his shoulder at the two sisters. ‘Doge is what the Venetians called the ruler of their republic, and now that you say it, Dan, it’s so obvious. Of course I’ve seen that hat before. What an idiot!’
Dan gave him a grin and returned his attention to the screen. ‘Don’t beat yourself up, there were a hell of a lot of hats going round way back then. Anyway, I’m going to take a guess and say he might be the one of most famous of them all: Francesco Foscari. Mind if I check something?’
He clicked on a search engine and in a remarkably short space of time came up with visual proof in the shape of a painting by a Venetian artist called Bastiani. There could be no mistake. The likeness was unmistakable.
‘Got him.’ He punched the air triumphantly. ‘That’s our man: Francesco Foscari, one of the best-known of all the doges. This one was painted in 1457, so I imagine your painting’s roughly the same age. This won’t necessarily help you find the name of the artist, but at least you now know who the subject is.’
Chris reached over and high-fived the American. ‘That’s terrific, Dan, thank you so much. I’ll mark it up as School of Venice by an unknown artist, late fifteenth century, and describe it as a portrait of Foscari, just like you’ve said.’ He held out his hand towards Dan and shook it more formally. ‘Really, thanks a lot. Listen, professional advice of this calibre from an expert like yourself is something we’re happy to pay for, and pay handsomely. If you don’t mind us using your name in the description, please let me have your bank details and I’ll see something appropriate lands in your account to say thank you.’
They sat and chatted for half an hour or so. Dan appeared very interested to hear of the carved font in the little church down in Santa Rita and to see the photos Sophie had taken. Because it was a fairly recent church, he had ignored it so far, but he would definitely be checking it out now.
After a while, Rachel revealed that she had made plans for the day. ‘I called Dan while you two were up on the top floor and told him to bring his swimming things. I’ve prepared a light salad lunch with a few bits and pieces. It’s all in the fridge and I thought we could maybe go for a swim first and then eat outside at the table under the shade of the big fig tree by the pool. How does that sound to everybody?’
That sounded excellent and Sophie was soon sitting by the pool in the presence of two attractive men with well-honed bodies, realising that she couldn’t fault Rachel’s logic. Chris without a shirt on was a very pleasant surprise and she felt that same little stirring of lust she had felt back upstairs. Clearly he didn’t spend all his time sitting at a desk. It then immediately occurred to her that this was the very first time he had ever seen her in a bikini and she wondered what sort of impression she might be making on him. To avoid any further conjecture, she decided to join her dog in the pool. A few seconds later the others followed suit.
By the time she emerged from the pool and stretched out on her towel to dry she was feeling less self-conscious. From behind the protection of her sunglasses she watched the others do the same and had to admit that the sensation of finding herself sandwiched – in the most innocent possible way – between these two men was rather nice. She felt pleasantly relaxed, lying here in the shade, with hardly a sound to disturb her – apart from the constant buzzing of bees as they laboured among the blooms all around them. She was almost drifting off to sleep when her sister’s voice roused her.
‘Here, Soph, Dan brought a bottle of fizz. Will you open it and see that everybody gets some?’ Sophie looked up to see her sister set a tray down on the table beneath the fig tree.
Dan reached for the bottle. ‘Let me do that.’
Sophie stood up. ‘Thanks, Dan. I’ll go and help Rachel bring out the food.’
‘I’ll come with you.’ Chris jumped to his feet and together they headed round to the kitchen. They collected the rest of the food and drink and carried it back to the poolside with Jeeves bouncing along at their sides, nostrils flared. By this time Dan had already filled four glasses with Prosecco which he distributed.
‘Cheers, and thanks for the lunch invite.’
Sophie was very impressed by lunch. Rachel must have gone down to Santa Rita in the car that morning while she and Chris had been upstairs. She had bought lovely fresh focaccia bread as well as hand-carved ham and fennel-flavoured finocchiona salami. Along with the meats, she had made a huge salad containing at least three types of lettuce, fresh tomatoes from the garden, quails’ eggs and mozzarella cheese. To accompany the ham there were wonderful, sweet fresh figs from the garden. A bowl of white flesh peaches, again home-grown, completed the meal. To drink there was cold red as well as white wine, along with mineral water. Altogether it was a real feast and Jeeves clearly shared that view as he stationed himself under the table and wandered hopefully from person to person, nudging them with his cold wet nose. But, forewarned by Sophie, they refused to give in to his pleading eyes – although she did see the occasional bread stick disappearing under the table, mainly from Rachel.
It was a tasty meal and Sophie thoroughly enjoyed the company – not just the two men but her sister as well. She was delighted she and Rachel appeared to have returned to the uncomplicated relationship they had once had, and she could honestly say that her misgivings about the two of them being able to cohabit had proved unfounded – at least for now. How the arrival of the Spanish contingent in a few weeks’ time would affect the dynamic remained to be seen but, for the moment, peace had very definitely broken out.
As for the men, it was hard not to make comparisons. Both were intelligent and successful in their own fields. In purely physical terms, Dan would probably have won a handsomest man contest, but it would have been a close-run thing. Both were tall and had blue eyes – something Sophie had always liked – and both had friendly faces. Most importantly, both had the ability to make her laugh, and a good sense of humour had always been high on her list of desirable male attributes.
There was just one complication – she heard Chris telling Dan that they were going to a special bar for a cocktail this evening and inviting him along to make up a foursome. Although mathematically neat and tidy, this effectively ruled out any chance Sophie might have had of getting Chris on his own this evening so she could work on analysing her feelings towards him more precisely. When Chris headed back to his beloved antiques and Dan disappeared along the path towards his house, she gave a long sigh of frustration, turned round, and let herself fall backwards into the pool, closely followed by her dog. When she surfaced and dissuaded Jeeves from licking her face, she saw her sister crouching at the water’s edge with a broad grin on her face.
‘Nothing’s easy, is it, Soph?’
That evening at the cafe Sophie and Rachel insisted on paying as they were celebrating. Among all the bits and pieces on the top floor, Chris had discovered a real treasure. Rolled up in a dusty blanket and tucked away in the far corner of the furthest room, he had come upon a sinister-looking weapon. It was a very old, very heavy, stubby musket, embossed and engraved with animal figures, including a vicious-looking snake and a remarkably friendly lion, and it was in excellent condition. Although it was a Saturday, Chris immediately phoned a colleague from their Milan office in order to discuss it with her, and the result was a ‘cautious’ estimate in excess of ten thousand euros, possibly more. The lady from the auction house indicated her willingness to come down on Wednesday to inspect it in person with a view to putting it into their autumn antiques sale and Sophie immediately agreed.
In consequence, the mood of the evening was buoyant. The bar recommended by Romeo, the hair stylist, was in a village on the other side of the valley, which didn’t look dissimilar to Paradiso – but without the castle. It was reached up a steep, winding road and was perched on top of a wooded headland above the sea. From there you could even see Paradiso itself on the opposite hilltop above Santa Rita. The bar was in the main square, the chairs and tables set on the paving slabs sheltered from the evening sun by the tall stone buildings all around but, unlike Paradiso, the place was humming with life. Motorbikes and scooters were parked right in front of the bar and vehicles kept arriving and departing – mostly with a screech of tyres – almost without a break, spewing out a never-ending stream of noisy people.
Sophie and the others were fortunate to arrive just as one group got up and left and so were able to grab a table. The average age of those around them was probably five or ten years younger than they were and Sophie might have been feeling a bit out of her depth if it hadn’t been for the boost she had received from Chris with his great news about the musket. He, on the other hand, was clearly feeling his age.
‘Blimey, guys, what a racket! Do you think people live in these houses? I just hope the bar closes at a reasonable time or they aren’t going to get much sleep.’
Rachel grinned at him. ‘Listen to you, Chris. You sound like an old man.’
‘Compared to most of the people around here, I feel it.’ He glanced across at Sophie. ‘I can’t tell you how happy I am we aren’t going clubbing.’
She was quick to reassure him. ‘Me, too. I don’t know why, but I feel quite tired today. I think I’m going to be happy with a quick drink, something to eat and early to bed.’
And this looked likely to be not only on her own, but also without getting any nearer to any sort of closure as far as things between her and Chris were concerned, unless she could find a way of getting him on his own between now and then. It was frustrating in the extreme. Certainly, this weekend wasn’t turning into the sort of cathartic moment in her relationship with him that she might have hoped.
When the cocktails appeared, accompanied by a dish of salted biscuits which immediately had the dog looking up, tail wagging hopefully, she sat back and did her best to look on the bright side. So what? She was comfortable, she was surrounded by friends and she had her other best friend – the four-legged one – sitting at her side with his head on her lap. Paradiso might be on top of the next hill, but this place was pretty good all the same – give or take a bit of noise. As for Chris, time would tell. She wasn’t in a hurry after all.
Was she?
The cocktails proved to be rather less amazing than Romeo had indicated – more like a colourful exotic fruit salad with the addition of a whole lot of vodka. Dan had once more volunteered to drive the Mercedes and opted for the non-alcoholic version. Sophie tasted his glass and secretly preferred it. By the time she had finished hers, she wasn’t feeling any less tired – very much the opposite in fact. Nevertheless, she and Rachel insisted on buying dinner for everyone and they asked Chris to choose what he wanted. His answer came back immediately.
‘I still don’t think it’s fair for you girls to pay but, if you insist, I’d really like a pizza.’ He smiled across at Sophie. ‘I know it sounds a bit boring but I love pizza and there’s nothing to beat a real Italian one.’ He caught Dan’s eye. ‘All right, you Americans have some good pizza houses over there too, but don’t forget that it all started here in Italy.’
The pizzeria they went to – on Dan’s recommendation – was as good as any Sophie had been to before. When she received her massive thin crust Quattro Stagioni, she felt sure she wouldn’t be able to eat even half of it. It was so big it was overflowing off the plate onto the tablecloth. To her surprise, however, she managed almost all of it and had to agree that it was excellent. She even found room for a small lemon sorbet afterwards but then called it a day and felt sure she wouldn’t eat for a week.
On their way back up to the castle, they could see the lights of the towns along the coast flickering in the distance. It was still warm out but now that the sun had gone down the temperature was a bit more bearable. Dan drove up the hill slowly with the windows open and the scent of pine tree resin filled the car. When they got home he kissed Sophie and Rachel on the cheeks, thanking them for the meal, before shaking Chris’s hand.
‘I’d better get off. I have a Zoom session coming up with my head of department and he never remembers the time difference. Chris, good to meet you. Will I see you again? Are you planning on coming back over?’
Sophie waited with interest for his answer. She had already mentioned that he was very welcome, but no date had been fixed.
‘Good to meet you, too, Dan, and thanks again for your help with the Doge painting. I’d love to come back. I’ll check with my line manager and take a look at my schedule for the rest of the summer and see what I can arrange. I’m going to be tied up in August but I think September’s looking a bit clearer. It would be great to come back and see everyone again.’ As he spoke, his eyes met Sophie’s and held them for a second or two. She took this as a positive sign and struggled not to blush.
Once Dan had departed, Rachel diplomatically told them she had to rush inside to check her emails while Sophie announced she was taking Jeeves for his walk. She hoped Chris would take the hint – she wasn’t going to have many more chances to get him on his own before he left next morning. To her relief, he immediately offered to come with her. They went out through the front gates and set off along the path towards the headland. By now the stars were beginning to shed enough light to make it quite easy for them to see where they were going. When they emerged from the trees and the track widened, Sophie went across to him and caught hold of his arm with both of her hands, appreciating the solid feel of his biceps as she did so.
‘Thanks for coming to see us, Chris. I hope you’ve enjoyed yourself.’
‘It’s been great, Soph. I love the castle and I love Paradiso. I’m so pleased things seem to be working out between you and Rachel.’
‘And will you come back again, for longer? We’re here at least until the end of September.’
There was a momentary pause. ‘If you’d like me to.’ He sounded quite tentative.
She had no hesitation. ‘I’d love you to. You are my closest friend, after all.’
‘And I’ll always be your friend; you know that.’ He leant across and deposited a tiny little peck on her cheek before stepping back. ‘I’ll do my best to come back to see you here in September – but no more of you two paying for everything. Fifty-fifty, right?’
‘We can argue about that when you get here. I just hope you can make it.’
‘I’ll do my best. Of course, by that time you and Dan may be madly in love and you won’t want to be bothered with me.’
This time there was no stopping her cheeks from flushing and was thankful it was night-time. ‘I’ll always want to see you, Chris. Besides, nothing’s going to happen between me and Dan. He’s a good friend. That’s all.’
‘Sort of like me, then.’
‘Something like that.’ She repressed the overwhelming urge to scream in frustrated annoyance, this time at herself, but it was a struggle. Surely this would have been the moment for her to give him at least a bit of encouragement but, oh no, sensible Sophie, the teacher’s pet, had done it again. She had been waiting so long for him to make the first move, she had missed the opportunity to give her own input to resolve the dilemma.
She could still feel his touch on her cheek as they turned and walked back to the castle. It had felt good, but there was no getting away from the fact that this had been a potentially romantic moment and all that had emerged from him, and from her, had been gestures of friendship but nothing more.