Under a Siena Sun (Escape to Tuscany #1) - T.A. Williams Page 0,77

US as we know it even existed. No, I’d stay in Europe, for sure.’

‘What about Siena? There’s a very good university here. Or maybe even Florence? After all, you now know Guido. He could help you, I’m sure.’

‘Yes, indeed, or maybe your native land. Some of the best universities in the world are in the UK.’

‘You said there were three things you’d like to do. What’re the others?’

‘The second is that I’m actively considering setting up a charity of some sort. I don’t just want to be remembered for what I did on the court.’

‘That sounds wonderful.’ She was genuinely impressed. ‘What sort of thing?’

‘I really don’t know – maybe providing sports scholarships for underprivileged kids or support for injured athletes or something like that. It all depends on money and that in turn depends on how things pan out with my third wish.’

‘And that is…?’

‘I want to get a divorce.’

‘You aren’t already divorced?’

‘No, my wife would like nothing better and she keeps on hassling me, but I’ve been hanging on, hoping she might maybe change her mind and give it another go. Until the lawyers sort out the financial side of things I won’t know how much I can spare for the charity.’

‘What’s changed your mind about the divorce?’

He looked up from his plate, straight into her eyes. ‘You, Lucy.’

‘Me?’ The mouthful of wine she had just swallowed almost came back up again. She could hardly believe her ears.

‘You. Now, listen, please don’t be alarmed. I’m not proposing marriage or anything as radical as that. I’m just saying that I like you a lot and being with you has made me realise how much was missing in my marriage – like being able to talk to each other about something other than tennis and trivia for instance.’

Lucy seriously considered draining her glass of wine in one, but she settled for another sip while she tried to get her head around what he had just said. ‘Well, I enjoy talking to you, too, and we do talk about a lot of different stuff.’ It sounded a bit lame, but she was pleased to manage to get at least a few words out.

‘Meeting somebody who shares my love of history has been a breath of fresh air, but there’s so much more to it than that. Like you say, we do talk about all sorts of subjects.’

She was gradually regaining the power of speech. So he really did like her. She felt her heart soar. She reached across the table with both hands and caught hold of his. ‘Well, for the record, I’m not proposing to you either, but I do like you an awful lot as well.’

She felt him squeeze her fingers. ‘I’m glad we got that sorted out.’ He smiled again. ‘And now, if you’re really sure you don’t want dessert or even a coffee, what do you say we head somewhere a little quieter?’

A few minutes later they set off along the quay, but not in the direction of the car. Barely a hundred metres further on, they stopped by a sign marked Noleggio Motoscafi. A heavily tattooed man lazing under a faded red and white parasol advertising Campari looked up from his newspaper and beamed as he recognised David.

‘Ciao, David. Long time no see.’ He looked genuinely pleased to see him. ‘I’ve kept one for you, like I promised you on the phone. Ready to go?’

David nodded and Lucy wondered what he meant. This was soon revealed as they followed the tattooed man down a sloping ramp onto a pontoon moored alongside the quay. As they reached a smart RIB, a rigid inflatable boat, the man pointed.

‘This okay? It was new in June. It runs as sweet as you like.’

Boris answered for them. He was clearly accustomed to boats and he wasted no time in jumping in, before turning back towards them, legs splayed, tail wagging, his tongue hanging out, clearly delighted to be on the water. Lucy took a seat on an upholstered bench alongside David at the wheel and the engine purred into life. The tattooed man cast them off and they slowly eased away from the quayside and out between the forest of masts of moored yachts. There was very little wind and most of the yachts hadn’t moved from their berths, their owners no doubt enjoying a little siesta after their Sunday lunch.

As they reached the entrance to the marina, David opened the throttle some more and the boat sped smoothly away, producing