to Margherita.
‘Is this local oil you’ve brought me? That’s awfully generous of you. You really shouldn’t have.’
‘Not at all, Lucy, you’re very welcome. It certainly is local and it’s produced by my grandson. He took over the family farm when his father, my son, was killed in a terrible accident five years ago.’ The elderly lady’s voice almost broke. ‘A runaway tractor crushed him to death.’
‘How awful.’ Lucy bent down and squeezed Margherita’s shoulders. ‘I’m so sorry for your loss. Was he your only son?’
‘I’m afraid so.’ She crossed herself and wiped away a little tear. ‘He was my only child.’
‘And your husband?’ As Lucy asked the question she had a feeling she knew what the answer was going to be. She was right.
‘He’s passed away as well, but at least he reached a good age before he died.’ But then, just as Lucy feared her guest might be about to dissolve into tears, the old lady straightened her shoulders, took a deep breath and looked up. ‘But life goes on. My grandson, Roberto, is a fine boy – and the spitting image of his father. He’s a great consolation to me.’
Lucy went back to the kettle which had come to the boil. ‘And he farms around here?’
‘Yes, you must have seen the farm. Just off to the left as you come up the hill into the village. Fattoria Le Querce; you can’t miss it. You should drop in on Roberto one of these days and say hello.’
Lucy instantly recognised the farm from the description. She had often admired it. It looked like another very old, maybe even medieval, building and it was in a great position, no doubt with panoramic views of the valley below.
‘I certainly will. Does he sell wine as well? I keep meaning to stock up.’
‘Oh yes, and our vines are the best in the area.’ A look of pride replaced the sorrow on the old lady’s face. ‘Even better than the vines up at the villa. Although I heard from Armando that the American has made him plant new ones.’
Lucy pricked up her ears. This would appear to show that David Lorenzo’s presence here wasn’t as secret as he might have hoped. She did a little bit of digging. ‘Have you met him, the American?’
‘Nobody has.’ Margherita lowered her voice although they were the only people within a radius of a hundred yards or more. ‘Do you know what I think? I think he’s a New York gangster on the run.’
Lucy smiled at the thought as she made the tea. ‘I actually did meet him and his dog briefly this morning and I’m sure I can confirm that he isn’t a gangster and, from his accent, he isn’t from New York either. By the way, I take my tea the traditional English way with a drop of cold milk. Is that how you like yours?’
‘That would be lovely, thank you – with two spoonfuls of sugar, if you don’t mind.’
As they sat and chatted, Lucy learned more about the village and, seeing as she was pretty clearly in the presence of the fount of all wisdom as far as Castelnuovo Superiore was concerned, she quizzed Margherita about the house next door.
‘It’s all locked up. Do you happen to know who it belongs to?’
‘Florentines…’ There was a dismissive note in Margherita’s voice. ‘When old Signor Scandicci was alive, he was often here, but now it’s passed to his son, we rarely see him. He never married and he works at the university, I believe.’
That sounded good to Lucy. She had been dreading discovering that her neighbours might turn out to be bagpipe aficionados or a bunch of rowdy teenagers. Hopefully there was a limit to the amount of disturbance a single academic could cause.
‘And how about the restaurant? I keep meaning to go there. Is it good?’
Margherita beamed at her. ‘It’s very good. People come up from Siena and even all the way from Florence to eat here, you know. You should try it.’
Just at that moment, Lucy’s phone rang. She apologised to Margherita and picked it up.
‘Ciao, Lucy. It’s me, Tommy.’
‘Ciao, Tommy. Good to hear from you.’ Although it wasn’t, really. She had been expecting a call to tell her where and when he was taking her for dinner. Since saying yes, she had been having serious second thoughts about having accepted, in case he might think it was going to be anything but a casual friendly evening together, but it was too late now