Under a Siena Sun (Escape to Tuscany #1) - T.A. Williams Page 0,4
for the wedding that was coming up in just four days’ time and doing her best to stop Daniela from freaking out.
Now, as the pounds – or at least ounces – started to pile back on, she could feel her energy levels rise once more. Things would have been perfect if it hadn’t been for the recurrence of blood-soaked dreams involving machetes, machine guns and worse. She was still waking up almost every night, bathed in sweat, her mouth wide open in a silent scream. During her four years in Africa, two of them out in the wilds of Mabenta, she had seen too many of the appalling injuries and deliberate acts of mutilation inflicted upon men, women and even children – many of whom had died without her being able to save them – and these graphic images returned night after night. It then often took a long time for these horrific memories finally to subside and for her to able to drift off to sleep once more. Still, she told herself over and over again in the welcome light of the following dawn, this was to be expected after her close call at Mabenta, and everybody knew that post-traumatic stress needed time.
As she began to feel better physically, she started to give serious consideration to what she should do after the wedding was over. Her intention had been to take a holiday for a few weeks, but, nice as it might sound just to lie about in the warm Tuscan sunshine without a care in the world, she knew she would soon be bored. Maybe she should do something practical like improving her Italian with a course at one of the language schools in Siena, or volunteering for an archaeological dig or some such to keep her occupied. The more she thought about it, the idea of just heading for the beach or the depths of the country and doing nothing wasn’t going to cut it.
And then there was the question of what to do after this period of R&R. After what had happened in Mabenta, she knew she didn’t feel like taking on another mission to such a remote and dangerous location – at least not for a good long while. MSF operated in over seventy different countries all over the globe, from South America to Asia, and she felt sure it should be possible to find something a bit less stressful if she asked for it. The complication was that since returning from Africa she had started giving her future serious thought, and not only as far as her medical career was concerned.
She would be thirty-six in six months’ time and it hadn’t taken her mother’s far-from-subtle interrogation last week for her to realise that she rather liked the idea of a ‘normal’ life; preferably involving a permanent address, a partner, children – one of each – and a dog or a cat or both. A few roses around the door wouldn’t go amiss either. On one level this almost annoyed her as she had always thought of herself as a self-sufficient kind of woman who was quite happy without the usual trappings of conventional life. Now she wasn’t so sure.
Her introspective reverie that afternoon was interrupted as Daniela returned from work.
‘Ciao Lucy. Had a good day?’
Lucy opened her eyes and smiled. ‘I’ve had a very good and very lazy day and, for just about the first time in two weeks, I’ve started thinking about work again. How was yours? Been busy?’
Daniela was a journalist with a Tuscan newspaper, based in Siena, and Lucy knew she enjoyed her job.
‘Not too bad, thanks. Tomorrow’s my last day in the office for a few weeks and I’ve spent today handing over to Tommy who’s going to be standing in for me while I’m away on our honeymoon.’ Daniela perched on the table alongside the hammock which was strung across the open-sided loggia. This veranda, shaded from the direct sun, had a spectacular view down over the olive groves and across the valley to the city of Siena on the slopes of the next hill. ‘So, what have you decided about work? Don’t tell me you’re thinking of going back to Africa.’
‘No, that’s definitely off the agenda – at least for now. I’m still having bad dreams about the place. No, I’ve been thinking about something a bit closer to home.’
‘MSF are active in southern Italy, aren’t they? Your Italian’s good enough. Why don’t you see if you can