Trista Ormanni approaches, looking wonderful in a simple cream linen skirt and top. She’s a woman who catches your eye, her refined air reflecting her position and that of her family.
‘Max ’eez away. Back soon. Egli manda le sue scuse—’ She shrugs her shoulders and glances at Bella for help.
‘He sends his apologies,’ Bella translates. Trista seems satisfied and gives a smile of thanks, then nods in my direction before turning away.
‘I should imagine Max appreciates having you around to translate when he’s not here.’
Bella is brushing crumbs from the table.
‘We don’t get many British people here. Mostly Italians and a few Germans. Trista tries, but she struggles. She lost her husband, Stefano, a couple of years ago. To lose a soulmate must tear you apart and whenever I look at her I remember what she was like, you know, before he passed away. But it restores my faith in the existence of true love and the fact that it can last forever if you are lucky.’ Bella grins.
‘Oh, do I take that as implying your own path to true love hasn’t been particularly smooth?’
‘Let’s just say I’m still looking. I’m off to cover the reception desk until ten, but after that we can do the tour, if that’s convenient?’
‘Perfect, see you in a little while.’
I finish my coffee and rise from the table, nodding to my fellow guests. Making my way out onto the terrace through the enormous glass-panelled doors, I feel happy and relaxed.
Already the bees are buzzing and the chirping of the tree crickets is like a backing track, low and incessant. Two butterflies are flitting in and out of the tubs, which are mainly filled with fragrant herbs. But it’s the smell of the white, pink and red oleanders, with their lance-shaped, dark-green leaves that grab my attention. As I lean in to smell the white swirls it reminds me of apricots, but the pink and red ones give off more of a sweet, bubble gum scent. I walk across the terrace and a beautiful climbing rose dripping off some trellis work adds a distinctly floral boost to the air. You can literally close your eyes and still savour the southern Italian experience, as the gentle warmth of the morning sun accentuates the heady smells.
I head away from the terrace, descending a flight of stone steps leading down to a lower level and the first of the olive trees. These are very old trees with wide trunks and gnarled branches, from which the leaves and growing fruit hang like curtains. Mostly the sun is obscured, but here and there the foliage thins. Little shafts of sunlight appear to shimmer, as the breeze catches the leaves.
It’s time to ring Josh, but I just wish he were here with me to enjoy this moment. The girls would be captivated by the ambience, but probably more eager to laze in the sun. But Josh would appreciate the sheer beauty of the scene in front of me. This is the very essence of southern Italy and something I feel privileged to enjoy.
Josh’s voice is comforting, but when I hear how much he misses me, and then the sounds of the girls squabbling in the background, I have to gulp down the lump rising in my throat. The spell that has been cast over me is temporarily broken and all I want is to be back at home again. He touches briefly on a problem he has at work and it’s clear he’s under pressure, but there is nothing I can do to help. So instead I encourage him to talk about happier things, until he at least sounds brighter.
‘I have to go, Josh, Bella is giving me a tour of the villa and I need to take some more photos to send to Livvie. Max is going to get that first order and it’s looking promising for the future.’
‘What did he say?’
‘He isn’t here at the moment, as there was a problem up at the processing plant, but he’ll be back later this morning.’
Josh is suddenly very quiet, then mumbles, ‘It won’t delay your return, will it?’
‘Of course not. The tickets are booked and I leave at four in the morning. The stopover is in Milan and it’s a nine-hour wait unfortunately, but I’ll land at Heathrow just after six in the evening.’
‘That’s later than I thought. The girls were hoping to see you before they went to bed.’ It isn’t only the girls who will be disappointed, he sounds totally deflated again.
‘Sorry, I should have mentioned it before. Livvie was due to meet up with another supplier in Milan, so the delay wasn’t a problem for her.’
‘I’m being selfish, honey. I’ll get over it. As they say, absence makes the heart grow fonder. I’ve never missed you so much, but then we’ve never been so far apart. Just concentrate on what you have to do; I can imagine how stressful it must be and how alien it must feel.’
I wish I could explain how comfortable I feel here, not alien at all, but I’m not sure Josh would understand in his present state of mind. ‘See you later, alligator.’
He responds. ‘In a while, crocodile.’
I don’t feel strange here at all. What I feel is a weird sort of recognition. A sense of being at peace. I miss my family, naturally, but a part of me will be sad to leave this behind. As I retrace my steps I find that admission shocking. It’s only when Bella appears in front of me that I snap out of my reverie.
The tour of the villa is eye-opening as it’s much bigger than I had realised. When you approach it from the terrace you see a cluster of three interlinking stone buildings, whose roofs are at differing heights. My room is more or less directly above the reception area and my window looks out across the front, southern elevation. The large building off to the side mostly comprises guests’ rooms, but being at a ninety-degree angle to the main building the views look west, in the direction of the mountains. Between the two buildings is a smaller building, nestled into the corner and Bella informs me it’s Trista’s suite.
‘Ooh, there’s a wonderful chest in here you might like to see. I’m sure Trista won’t mind if we go in.’
This part of the villa is very different to the rest, where everything has been carefully designed. Trista’s room is a mix of the old and new. An ornate wooden table is covered with silver-framed photos and for the first time I get a glimpse of Trista’s husband. Several are of their wedding day and they are young, happy and smiling fit to burst. I have no idea from the other photos if any of them include Aletta, as there are so many group photos taken over the years.
‘Do you have children? Bella asks, noticing my interest.
‘Yes, two. Hettie and Rosie. They’re both teenagers. It’s always chaotic in our house. Lots of noise.’
She smiles. ‘I bet they’re missing you. Where’s home?’
‘The Forest of Dean. It’s on the Welsh border. It’s a beautiful spot and we love exploring the nature trails.’
‘Oh, I’ve never been, but I’ve heard of it.’
‘I’ll give you my number and if you go back home for a holiday and fancy a weekend away, give me a call. We have a spare bedroom and don’t get many guests.’
‘Thank you, I just might take you up on that. I’m overdue a return visit and that could be just the incentive I need to make it bearable!’
Bella stands in front of a wooden chest inlaid with panels of intricate metalwork.
‘Lovely, isn’t it? And it looks old.’
‘Wow, that’s gorgeous. I’m sure Olivia will love this. It’s perfect for storing linen, or to use as a coffee table. Thank you, Bella.’
‘That’s