Under a Siena Sun (Escape to Tuscany #1) - T.A. Williams Page 0,53

old Land Rover and gave her a lift home with the wine. Before leaving the farm, she kissed Pietro on the cheek and made him promise to text her as soon as he and Daniela had had their talk, and asked him to have a think whether they might like to come out for dinner with her to celebrate.

When she and Roberto arrived at her house, he insisted on carrying the bottles into the kitchen for her. After setting the boxes down on the floor he turned towards the door. ‘I’m afraid I need to get back. My wife’s taken the kids into Siena to buy clothes and there’s nobody back at the farm. I’ve no idea when they’ll be home and I don’t like leaving everything open. My daughter’s thirteen, going on eighteen, and she takes forever to choose what she wants to wear.’

Lucy suppressed a wry smile. Just like David, this one was already married. As his car drove off and she closed the front door, she shook her head slowly. Why were all the good ones already taken? And why were so many of the others two-timing cheats? Still, she told herself, at least she now knew that Pietro was on the side of the angels.

Chapter 15

An hour or so later, while she was on her knees in the garden, tidying her new flowerbed, her phone beeped twice with one message from Pietro and one from Daniela within a matter of seconds of each other. The content was reassuringly similar: they had had their talk, everything was all right and they both sent their thanks for acting as go-between. Lucy immediately replied and managed to persuade them to go out for dinner with her to celebrate the fact that all was once again well between them.

Daniela suggested that they meet up in the local restaurant here in Castelnuovo Superiore, but Lucy hesitated before agreeing. The Cavallo Bianco belonged to Tommy’s aunt and uncle after all, and she didn’t really want to bump into him so soon after refusing his invitation on the grounds of her non-existent boyfriend. Still, she told herself as she finally texted back to say yes, if she were to bump into him, he was a big boy and he would get over it, and the food there was too good for her to avoid the place on his account.

It was still very warm at seven thirty that evening as she walked down the road to the restaurant, but tonight the clouds were starting to gather above the horizon. Lucy hoped this would signify the arrival of long-awaited rain – for her own little patch of garden as well as for the sake of the farmers around here. Even the hardiest weeds by the side of the road were dry and yellow, parched and burned by the sun, and there was no doubt the whole of Tuscany would give a huge sigh of relief when the rain finally came.

When she got to the Cavallo Bianco, she was pleased to see no sign of Tommy, although Bella the Labrador seemed happy enough to see her again. Daniela and Pietro arrived a few minutes later and they all had a lovely meal together. Tonight, Lucy went for the chef’s take on the Spanish classic, gazpacho, and this cold tomato and cucumber soup was just what she wanted on such a sticky night. She followed this with home-made pappardelle al cinghiale. The rich gamey sauce accompanying the wide strips of pasta was made from the meat of the farmer’s big enemy in this part of Italy: the wild boar.

Almost on a daily basis the local news was full of reports of vineyards devastated, crops uprooted, and even a few cases of people attacked by the huge wild pigs with their scary tusks which were multiplying at an alarming rate. Lucy had been pretty sure she had had one in her back garden the previous night but, by the time she looked out of the window, whatever it was that had been grunting and digging up her newly planted flowers had gone, leaving a trail of destruction behind that had taken her the best part of an hour to fix earlier this afternoon. As she savoured her pasta, she decided that wild boar appealed to her much more on a plate than in her garden.

Daniela and Pietro once again looked as loving and settled as ever and Lucy rejoiced for them, not without the usual little twinge of