The ground crunched under the weight of her car as she drove on towards the house.
Eventually, she feathered the brakes and the C2 squeaked to a halt in what seemed to be an unguarded parking lot. A crooked sign told her she had arrived at the TWIN OLIVE TREES B&B. She wondered if there really were twin olive trees hidden among all the other trees in this vast expanse of green. She looked up at the house again. Her first instinct was to turn around and head right back to where she'd come from. She didn't like this place one little bit; it gave her the creeps. It was a huge, bleak house out in the middle of nowhere. If something happened to her out here, she'd be dead before the ambulance could arrive.
She felt sick at the thought of it. Chantal figured she was too tired to begin her return journey that night, but she'd head back to Gussago in the morning. Her hometown was nothing to write home about, but at least it didn't have B&Bs that put the fear of God into you.
She closed her eyes and tried to calm down, raising both hands and drawing circles with her fingertips to massage her temples. It worked, her mind gradually emptied of each and every thought. Except one. She felt like she could sense...
Her eyes bolted open just as the thought entered her head.
...someone.
She screamed with such ferocity it burned the back of her throat. Her mouth remained locked open, now emitting nothing more than a frightened moan.
The figure outside the car approached the door and opened it.
Chantal threw herself across to the passenger seat and tried to open the other door. She was panic stricken, unable to think clearly.
"It's alright," said a man's voice. "It's me, Alfredo."
Relief flooded over Chantal, but she still didn't manage to speak. The man bent down and his curly-haired face appeared inside the passenger compartment.
"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 got out and paused to look at the damaged side of the C2. His face clouded over.
"How on earth did you do that, signorina?" he enquired, using for the first time the more formal lei to address her rather than tu.
Chantal was floored by the change. Were they in work mode now? Did she need to observe some employer-employee formalities? She decided to follow suit.
"It's a long sto...let's just say I ran into a little difficulty Mist.."
"Alfredo's fine, honestly."
"As you wish, Alfredo," she replied, using lei.
"Why are you suddenly using lei?" he asked.
Chantal was speechless. Just seconds earlier, he'd used lei to address her! Was he pulling her leg? She decided to ask, albeit indirectly.
"But you just called me lei."
"I did?"
"Yes, when you got out of the car," Chantal continued, motioning to the old banger.
"Impossible," Alfredo replied, staring at the floor. "Ermm, OK. Perhaps I misheard." He took a few steps towards her and looked directly into her eyes. "It's best if we carry on using tu. What do you say?"
Chantal was lost in his stare, unable to decide if she was in heaven or hell.
She snapped out of it and found the strength for a smile and a response.
"Fine by me."
"Great," he replied, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Have you already had breakfast? I left you someth..."
"It was the best breakfast I've ever had," Chantal replied, feeling a touch embarrassed by the overfamiliarity of Alfredo's hand.
"Really?" exclaimed Alfredo, as he tightened his grip.
Again, the sensation in the pit of her stomach left Chantal wondering if she were in heaven or hell.
"The jam was absolutely..."
"Delicious?" he ventured.
"That wouldn't do it justice."
"I see. So what word would do it justice then?" he asked, finally relaxing his grip on the girl's shoulder.
"I think 'exquisite' sums it up very nicely," she replied, relieved to be free from his grasp. "And there's plenty more compliments where that came from."
"Chantal, you're too kind."
"But it's true."
"If you insist. All that matters is that you liked it. I'm pleased. The jam's homemade, by me."
He paused and smiled, looking straight into Chantal eyes. She lowered her gaze and felt her face redden.
"If we have a bit of spare time, I can show you how I do it."
Chantal looked up at him, and he saw she looked puzzled.
"The jam, I mean," he clarified. "I'll teach you every trick in the book, and you'll be making exquisite jams in no time!"
"Oh, I'd love that!" she replied, holding his gaze for a split second.
"It's a date!" He turned around and gestured towards the Kadett. "Could you give me a hand with the shopping?"
Chantal watched as he opened the boot, which contained several large bags. She realised at that very moment that she'd been hired. No need for an interview. Unless the few words they'd just exchanged counted and were enough to convince him she was the right person for the job.
"Sure, I'm intrigued to see what you've bought."
CHAPTER 15
Perhaps Chantal's luck had changed. Perhaps God had finally realised that even she needed some respite from all the crap.
She finally felt like she was living again, rather than just surviving.
Another line crossed.
Unbeknown to Chantal, Alfredo poked his head into the pantry.
"Hey! I see you've already put everything away."
His voice jarred her out of her thoughts.
"Nearly everything," she confessed after a moment's hesitation, pointing to a shopping bag still on the floor.
Around an hour earlier, Alfredo had given her a brief overview of how things worked at the B&B before showing her the pantry and issuing a few vague instructions. She'd done her best and tried to remember what he'd suggested. She smiled. It looked as though she'd succeeded.
"You're very quick and very thorough..." Alfredo stroked his chin, debating whether to say what was on the tip of his tongue.
Chantal looked up at him, inviting him to go on.
He smiled thinly and continued.
"If I'd have known, I'd have hired you years ago."
She tried to suppress the smile that was forming at the edges of her mouth. She wasn't used to compliments. None of her previous bosses had given her any, not even Signor Ferruccio from Lilly's Snack Bar, and he'd been the nicest of them all.
She looked down, shifting her gaze away from Alfredo. Unable to suppress the smile any longer, she turned towards the open cupboard door and pretended to check what she'd already put away.
"That's very kind of you," she said, doing her utmost to keep her excitement in check, "but isn't it a bit early to be showering me with praise? I've only done one job for you!"
Alfredo coughed twice to clear his throat.
"Look, Chantal..."
He coughed again to buy himself the time he needed to rearrange what he wanted to say.
"I've been doing this for quite a few years now. Running a B&B..."
He paused for a moment to watch the graceful movements of Chantal's shapely body.
His voice came out hoarse, but to Chantal it was like birdsong.
"...and I've seen a lot of girls over that time, believe me. Loads of them accept that they have to do the work, but not many really want to be doing it. And even fewer actually manage to do it well..."
He took a couple of steps towards her.
"You do it very well, Chantal. I don't need months of observing you to know that. I suspected as much in the chat room, and now I know for sure."
This time, Chantal had no choice but to turn and meet the gaze of her new employer. She didn't feel it was necessary to hide her smile any longer.
"I'm pleased you think so highly of me."
His response was immediate.
"I'm pleased to have found a girl like you."
She smiled again.
"Have there really been that many girls who have worked here?"
Alfredo looked up at the ceiling and his head began to nod as if he were counting every single girl as their image passed in front of his eyes.
Then, suddenly, he looked directly at her again.
Heaven or hell?
"There's been so many I've lost count."
Chantal decided he was being genuine. She felt like the time had come to ask him the question she had wanted to put to him as soon as he'd offered her the job. But not just yet.
"So, what became of them? Did you fire them all?" she added jokingly, accompanying her question with yet another smile.
Alfredo seemed a bit put out.
Chantal sensed he'd had problems with some of the girls. Too many sick days, trouble with the unions, hands in the till. That kind of thing.
"To tell you the truth," Alfredo ventured, "it was them who chose to leave." He licked his lips. "Well, most of them anyway. I'm not a horrible boss, if that's what you're thinking."