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

Doing her best to ignore the sudden wave of disappointment that she wasn’t, after all, going to see him sooner, she assured him that she understood, and they arranged to meet up on Sunday evening for drinks at her place and then go to the restaurant for dinner together. As she put the phone down, she gave a little sigh. It was almost as if some malignant force was keeping them apart. It was frustrating to say the least.

Chapter 24

When she woke up next morning, she found a message on her phone and it came from an unwelcome source.

Hi Alice. Am on my way back to Europe after making the biggest mistake of my life. I need to speak to you, to apologise for my behaviour, and I can meet you anywhere. Are you still in Tuscany? Just say the word. David x

The thing that annoyed her most of all was that little x. She lay in bed, staring at her phone for some minutes, before deciding upon the right response. After the way he had behaved, and since getting to know Matt better, she knew that her days with David were irrevocably over, so she decided to be brutally frank.

Don’t waste your time, David. You made your choice and you have to live with the consequences. I’ll be back in Bristol in ten days and I expect to find all your stuff cleared out of the flat by the time I get there. Enjoy the rest of your life. Alice

At ten o’clock she went across to the church and pushed the heavy old wooden door open. She found herself inside a classical Romanesque church, with the usual simple interior and the trademark rounded window arches. Although she wasn’t an expert in architectural styles, she felt sure this indicated that the little church had been built as long ago as the eleventh or twelfth centuries. Father Gregorio must have heard the door creak and he came down the aisle to greet her.

‘Good morning, good morning. Thank you so much for coming.’

‘Good morning, Father. I’m looking forward to seeing your discovery.’

Father Gregorio led her to a little side chapel, barely more than an alcove, and pointed to the back wall. Alice immediately spotted the fresco and went over to examine it. As he had told her, he had managed to rub away much of the flaking whitewash, exposing a faded, but still quite distinguishable, painting underneath. As she studied it, she caught her breath. There was no mistaking what she could see. It was a remarkably well-painted depiction of Noah and the ark, but what leapt out at her was the unnaturally large flag flying from the main mast. Even after the passage of so many centuries, it was clear to see it was a deep red colour with a diagonal blue stripe. She screwed up her eyes and leant closer. Were those little golden flecks on the stripe wasps? Could it be?

She took her time, deliberately stifling her enthusiasm until she had photographed it from all angles, and measured its height and width. Finally, she straightened up and turned back towards the priest, who was standing there, looking hopeful.

‘It’s beautiful, Father Gregorio. I love it. I’m pretty confident it’s ancient – maybe even medieval, but certainly many centuries old. If you like, I can get in touch with a good friend who works at the Uffizi. I’m sure she or one of her colleagues would be happy to come down and take a look at it for you.’

He beamed back at her. ‘That would be wonderful. You would be doing me a great favour.’

Then, as they slowly walked back towards the door, he said something totally unexpected. ‘I wonder if I could ask one more favour of you? Would you mind letting me take your photo? When I tell my niece that I’ve had Polly in my church, she’ll be amazed – and it might be prudent to have proof, in case she thinks I’m going senile.’

‘Polly? You recognised me?’ Truly, the reach of Pals – even five years after – was extraordinary if even a septuagenarian priest in the backwoods of Tuscany had recognised her. There was almost a look of embarrassment on his face, as he replied.

‘My tastes in television are all-embracing. I watch all sorts, from game shows to football matches, murder mysteries to nature documentaries. I also have a particularly soft spot for romantic comedy – please don’t ask me to explain or justify this; I fear it would take far too long. Suffice it to say that you’re in the presence of one of your greatest fans.’

Alice was genuinely flabbergasted and she happily posed alongside him for some selfies, first with his phone and then with hers. As she finally left the church, she felt remarkably cheerful. Sometimes, being recognised as Polly the flirt could have its upside.

The first thing she did upon arriving back home was to send an email to Teresa at the Uffizi, outlining what she had just seen at the church and attaching a couple of photos of the fresco. She asked if she or one of her colleagues might be able to come down and take a look at it for Father Gregorio and she hoped the answer would be yes.

That afternoon, her phone rang and she recognised the number of Conrad’s daughter, Tracey.

‘Hi, Tracey, I was going to ring. What’s the news on Zoë?’

‘Hi, Alice, she’s home. We’ve just brought her back now, and she and my father would love it if you could come up to the villa around six for a drink. They both want to say thank you.’

‘She already thanked me but, of course, I’d be delighted.’

By the time Alice walked up to the villa, last night’s rain had already evaporated from the road surface, but the tracks through the vineyards and olive groves still looked pretty muddy so – keeping a wary eye open for paparazzi – she