Second Chances in Chianti (Escape to Tuscany Book 2) by T.A. Williams (best ereader under 100 TXT) 📗

‘Damn! Bang goes another great theory. I thought I was Hercule Poirot for a moment there.’ Alice finished her coffee and stood up. ‘Well, I’d better go and pack. Have a good flight back, Mil, and I’ll be seeing you.’

‘I’m going to miss you, Al.’

‘And I’ll miss you too, but I promise I’ll see you again before too long. Good luck with everything.’

‘And forget about David. He’s not worth it.’

They hugged warmly and Alice went back to her room. As she had no special plans for the day, she decided to do her best to follow Millie’s advice and forget about David by taking a little tour of the Chianti region in her car. Before leaving, she asked Paolo where he thought she should go and he suggested a number of places, including several vineyards that did tours and tastings, the fortified medieval church at Pieve di Spaltenna, and a nearby castle housing some murals by lesser-known Renaissance painters. She thanked him for the information and for looking after them all so well, and he looked pleased.

‘It was good practice – you’ve maybe heard that Signor Chesterfield is coming tomorrow with his family. He’s a demanding boss and it’s been good to make sure we’ve got everything running smoothly for him.’

By now Alice had worked out that Paolo was effectively in charge of the household and she could imagine the responsibility he felt with the owner about to arrive.

‘I’m sure he’ll be delighted. We certainly all were.’ She had a final thought. ‘By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask: why’s this place called villa of the wasps?’

He pointed across the hall to a little plaque on the wall that she hadn’t noticed before. ‘We think that might be the coat of arms of the original owners of this place, although it’s all a bit of a mystery. This villa was built back in the early eighteenth century, but they say it’s on far older foundations, maybe even medieval, and the shield might even date back seven, eight hundred years.’

Alice went over and studied the battered old shield more closely. It was predominantly deep red, with a diagonal blue stripe running across it. All the way up the stripe were little gold insects. They looked more like moths at first sight, but on closer examination she could see a sting in the tail. She glanced back at Paolo.

‘I’m not sure I’ve even seen a single wasp since I got here. Bees, yes, but not wasps. I wonder how the villa got its name. And you don’t know the family name either?’

He shook his head ruefully.

Alice had a most enjoyable day, and she was surprised to find herself feeling more cheerful as the hours went by and the shock of David’s exit from her life began to fade. She drove around the region more or less at random, stopping here and there in charming little medieval hamlets and villages, relishing just wandering about, soaking up the atmosphere of antiquity that Tuscany evoked in her. She added another couple of sketches to her collection and looked forward to trying to transform them into oil paintings once she was back home again. Although she inevitably encountered cars, TV aerials, electricity pylons and other signs of the twenty-first century, the area was still remarkably untouched and steeped in history. She kept coming upon little chapels, wooded hillsides and medieval farmhouses that could have appeared in so many works of art by famous Tuscan artists from Duccio to Paolo Uccello. The fact that she was on her own didn’t bother her – in fact, not having David getting bored alongside her was a bonus, or so she told herself. As for Pals Forever, although she couldn’t say she had no regrets, she knew she was doing the right thing in refusing to work with the irascible director. She didn’t need to do it, so why put herself through all that again?

She stopped for a focaccia sandwich at lunchtime in the stunning little town of Monteriggioni. Perched on a hilltop and surrounded by commanding stone walls punctuated by no fewer than fourteen towers, Monteriggioni was mentioned in Dante’s Divine Comedy and was justly famous. Today it was absolutely packed with visitors and Alice only just managed to squeeze her little Fiat into the last available space in the car park. She entered the town through an arched gateway and found herself in the midst of a host of other tourists. Fortunately, most of them were sitting at tables by this time, eating and drinking, hugging the shade.

There were relatively few people inside the ancient Romanesque church of Santa Maria. Alice sat down in one of the pews for some minutes, savouring the welcome cool after the heat outside, and admired the simplicity of a construction that was now over eight hundred years old. As so often in places that had been in existence for so long, she felt an overwhelming sense of wonder at the thousands upon thousands of people who must have visited here, worshipped here, and been christened, married and, in many cases, buried here. It confirmed just how insignificant the superficial world of celebrity really was, and this just reinforced her conviction that her decision to say no to Pals Forever had been the right one. As for David, she was ever more certain that his sudden departure was a blessing in disguise, a lucky escape. The next chapter of her life was starting now, with no looking back.

She finally arrived at the Mona Lisa hotel towards the end of the afternoon, feeling hot and sticky, and the sight of the swimming pool had considerable appeal. In fact, the whole place was most appealing. It was set in magnificent gardens in a densely wooded valley, surrounded by lines of cypresses and, inevitably here in Chianti, row upon row of vines. It was a surprisingly