"You must be Chantal. Are you feeling alright?"
Chantal realised she'd made an absolute twat of herself, and she just wanted the ground to open up. She took the hand extended to her, shifted back across to the driver's seat and clambered out of the car. She felt light-headed and, as she leant on Alfredo for support, she appreciated the white musk fragrance emanating from his skin.
"I'm sorry," she stammered.
"I gave you a fright," he replied, running his fingers through her hair. "It's me who should be apologising." He coughed and smiled. "I didn't think I was that ugly!" he said, attempting to lighten the mood.
Chantal suddenly realised she was still in the man's arms.
"You're not," she said, looking away and detaching herself from him.
An awkward silence ensued,
and Alfredo took it upon himself to break it.
"You must be exhausted, Chantal. Perhaps you should get some sleep."
She nodded.
Alfredo helped her with her bags and they walked towards the entrance to the B&B. As they reached the enormous green door, Chantal's gaze was drawn to the sign.
TWIN OLIVE TREES B&B
She stared at the logo, with its two identical trees that seemed to merge into one.
"Do you like it?"
"Sorry?" she replied, distracted.
"I asked whether you liked it," Alfredo said, nodding at the sign on the wall. "I drew it myself."
Chantal thought of the memory the logo had provoked. She forced a smile to hide the sadness she was feeling inside.
"Yes, it's lovely. You've got the talent to match your imagination."
"Thanks." Alfredo gestured towards the door. "Please, go in. You'll freeze to death out here."
She smiled and entered the B&B, which had a welcoming, homely feel. Above five feet of wood panelling, the walls were plastered white. As she looked around, Chantal felt a sense of warmth, hospitality and security. To her right, there were glowing embers in the fireplace, above which was mounted the stuffed head of a wild boar. Hunting scenes were depicted in paintings hung either side of the dead animal. The other wall was more like an ordnance depot. There were shotguns, old pistols and a huge crossbow, all hanging down from varnished wooden hooks. To her left was what she assumed was the reception desk. Chantal wondered if most of her working time here would be spent in front of the old computer.
"So? What do you think? You like it here?" asked Alfredo.
Chantal hesitated. She was still thinking about the twin olive trees.
"Very much," she replied, almost on autopilot. "It's nice. Really has a unique style," she added, snapping out of whatever daydream she was in.
"Good! I'm pleased you like it. There's no point working here if you don't like the place."
Chantal nodded and smiled weakly. Having initially struggled to string two words together, she soon found herself talking ten to the dozen, filling Alfredo in on everything that had happened: the puncture, the traffic jam, her encounter with the old lady, her anxiety upon seeing the size of the B&B and the fright that Alfredo had given her.
Well, almost everything. She neglected to mention that the tyre blowout - it hadn't just been a puncture - had nearly killed her. She didn't know why she kept that a secret, only that it just didn't feel right telling him. Almost as if she didn't want to worry him.
Which was weird - she barely knew him!
As she spoke, her worries and fears seemed to disappear one by one.
"So, you could say it was a pretty hectic journey," she concluded.
"Sounds like it," Alfredo replied, gesturing to one side with his head. "Come on. I'll show you your room and you can get your head down." He set off down a corridor and, after a few yards, turned back towards her. "Tomorrow's another day."
Chantal forced another smile.
Once he had shown her into the room, Alfredo had the decency to beat a hasty retreat. Chantal was incredibly grateful.
She got undressed, put on the pyjamas she had left on top of the other clothes in the case and went to the bathroom to take off her make-up and go to the loo. As she took care of her ablutions, she was too tired and weak to take in her surroundings.
As she wrapped herself in the freezing bed covers, her thoughts returned to the B&B's logo. Those two identical olive trees merging into one reminded her of the similarity between her and her mother.
She imagined her mamma Teresa's face in front of her,
then pictured her own alongside.
She focused hard on them until they merged.
Eventually, from somewhere in the dark recesses of either the room or her mind, her mother's voice came through crystal clear.
You and me, we're like two drops of water.
She didn't even have time to smile. Her thoughts faded away as tiredness took hold and carried her off into sleep.
CHAPTER 14
There'd been no one else in this huge house when she'd got up. She'd been worried at first, but the sight of a fully stocked breakfast table had filled her heart, and stomach, with joy.
She'd sat down, had a few sips of pear juice and proceeded to smother half a dozen homemade jams over warm pieces of bread. She'd felt right at home. It was warm and cosy. The old gadgets hung on the walls and resting on the solid wooden shelves made the dining room feel peaceful and safe. Homely, even.
Chantal had got full only after her fourth piece of bread.
She'd slipped on a jacket and gone outside into the vast parking area, seeing for the first time how daylight treated what had seemed ten hours ago to be a house of horrors and a bleak view down into the valley.
Standing there now, with a smile on her face, she wondered how she could ever have been scared by such a marvellous place.
Looking beyond the car park, she saw a vast expanse of green surrounded by trees. The big, white building itself was brought to life somewhat by the green door and shutters. As she glanced upwards, she noticed a large number of plants on the huge balcony, protected from the cold by plastic sheeting.
Chantal closed her eyes and inhaled the pure, country air that surrounded this little bit of paradise. When she reopened them, she was staring at a blue sky with a few wavy clouds. She took a deep breath, as if the oxygen could somehow cleanse her lungs of years of tar and nicotine. She felt like she was sucking on a eucalyptus drop. A gentle infusion of energy.
Fantastic!
Turns out she'd have come to work in Tuscany a lot sooner if she'd known it would be all clean air, breathtaking scenery and homemade jam.
No way was she going back home now.
She wandered over to her car. There was huge scratch all the way down one side, reminding her of the previous day's misadventures. She'd had a lucky escape, she knew that.
She shrugged her shoulders to ward off a shiver and was distracted by the sound of a car approaching.
Coming up the hill she herself had driven up the previous night was a white Opel Kadett which, at first glance, had to be at least twenty-five years old. Chantal squinted to see who was at the wheel, but the sun, albeit fairly weak, was reflecting off the windscreen. Just a few seconds later, it became clear that the person driving was Alfredo.
As the car trundled past, he greeted Chantal by way of a raised arm. She flashed him a smile in return and watched as the Opel pulled in alongside her Citroën.
Alfredo