Page 19 of A Chance in a Million
‘So does Dino just run free?’
‘Around here, yes. I don’t think he’d run off – unless he was chasing a squirrel or a rabbit. He’s got a thing about squirrels in particular for some reason, but the whole estate’s fenced off anyway so he can’t go far. He hasn’t learned how to unlock the gates yet so there’s no problem.’ He grinned. ‘He’s a clever dog, but not that clever.’
Jane had just straightened up again when Maria appeared at the kitchen door with a tray in her hands. ‘Here, Jane, I’ve made fresh lemonade. You look like you could use a glass of something cold. I could do with a little sit down myself.’
Jane took it gratefully and took a seat alongside Alvise on the bench while Maria pulled up a chair and sat opposite them. The sun was already grazing the tops of the hills behind the house and the air had turned a little bit cooler now. After the suffocating heat of Venice, it made a very pleasant change, as did the wide-open spaces all around with hardly a single human in sight. They chatted for ten minutes or so and Alvise asked her what she thought of the villa. Jane answered honestly.
‘It’s amazing although, to tell the truth, I wouldn’t want to live in a house like this. It’s just too…’ She hesitated. She had been about to sayvistosa, which translated as ‘flashy’ but this was her employer’s family’s residence she was talking about after all, so she adopted a less judgemental adjective. ‘It’s just a bit too grand for my taste. Give me the little summer house any day.’
He nodded slowly. ‘I know what you mean, but the general loved it and Signora Flora says the only way she’ll ever leave will be feet first.’ He glanced around to be sure they weren’t in danger of being overheard. ‘The way she’s going, that probably won’t be for a good long while.’
Jane grinned. ‘She’s quite a lady. I wonder what her secret is.’
‘She puts it down to the hills. She says this is the healthiest place in the whole of Italy.’
‘It’s certainly green enough so the air must be a whole lot cleaner than down on the plain.’
‘And, of course, she’s out and about all the time. Exercise is so good for all of us.’
‘And she really rides a bike?’ Jane had a sudden image of ninety-year-old Flora freewheeling down the hills and smiled to herself.
‘She certainly does. Because of the hills it was getting a bit hard for her so David managed to get her to change to an electric bike last year and she rides it down to the village two or three times a week to see her friends or do the shopping and, of course, for mass on Sundays.’
‘That reminds me, I promised to mend her puncture.’
‘Already done. I saw the tyre was down when I got here so I’ve fixed it.’
‘That’s great, thanks. Tell me, is that a greenhouse attached to the back of the villa?’
‘That’s her pride and joy. She occupies all the ground floor of the east wing and she spends most of her time out in what she calls the orangery. You wait until you see what she’s got in there. Talk about green fingers; she’s got plants from around the world.’
Jane had the chance to inspect Signora Flora’s plants that same evening when she walked across to the villa at seven o’clock sharp. The inside was, if anything, even more overwhelming than the outside. The high ceilings were frescoed with nymphs, shepherds and pastoral scenes; the floors were polished marble and the furnishings looked as if they had been looted from Napoleon’s personal collection. It was way over the top as far as Jane was concerned, but there was no denying that it all fitted together perfectly.
Veronica accompanied her through a fine old door on the far side of the marble-clad entrance hallway into the old lady’s apartments. Dino led the way along a cool corridor lined with portraits of no doubt long dead ancestors, through a charming living room and out into the orangery. Out here, perfectly shaded from the setting sun by the bulk of the house, it was unexpectedly cool and they found Flora and herdama di compagnia.
The first thing to strike Jane was the fact that the carer looked, if anything, even older than Flora. She was introduced to Jane as Luciana and she rested heavily on a stick as she reached out to shake hands. Her handshake was more what you would expect from a lady of mature years; however, she made up for her frailty with a sparkling sense of humour and soon had Jane and the others giggling as she recounted how a young deer had managed to get into the orangery a few days earlier, managing to make the resulting chase to get rid of it sound like an episode of Indiana Jones.
The orangery itself was spectacular with, as Alvise had indicated, a mass of exotic plants ranging from huge cactus plants to a very healthy-looking vine, already hung with little bunches of tiny green grapes which would no doubt ripen in a month or two. But for Jane, the nicest thing was the wonderful song of a little robin that filled the whole room from his vantage spot on top of a banana palm. Luciana pointed to the ventilation openings high up in the glass walls which provided access to the robin and his wife who had set up home here some years ago. It was charming – almost like being in the jungle but without the cloying heat of the tropics.
It came as no surprise to Jane to find that the evening meal had been prepared by Flora herself – ninety-five years old or not. When she went off to the kitchen to make the final preparations, Jane got up and followed her, keen to help. Luciana, who had mobility problems, remained in her seat. The kitchen was a huge old-fashioned room dominated by a monumental fireplace occupying most of the end wall with a massive and evidently ancient cast iron range set inside it. The floor was made of old terracotta tiles and the centre of the room was taken up by a huge table, about the same length as the Mercedes. On it was a broad dish with another dish upturned on top of it to ward off any insects. Signora Flora removed the cover to reveal slices of toasted bread topped with chopped tomatoes and basil leaves, all soaked in thick extra virgin olive oil.
‘This is very kind of you to help, Jane. If you’d like to take thebruschetteout to the orangery, I’ll get the rest of the stuff from the fridge.’
By the time Jane returned, the kitchen table was laden with other plates containing cold chicken, ham and salami, what looked like polenta slices spread with pâté and goat’s cheese, and a huge bowl of mixed salad. There was potato salad, slices of tomato with mozzarella and basil, and bottles of ice-cold white wine and mineral water. Jane looked on in awe – Flora really was an amazingly active old lady. It took three trips with a loaded tray to ferry everything outside and lay it all out on a long side table in the orangery, from which people helped themselves. Jane acted as wine waiter, making sure everyone had a drink in their hands, before sitting down to sip the excellent wine herself. The bottles were unlabelled so she queried their provenance. The answer also came as no surprise.
‘This is our own homemade wine. I’m so pleased you like it.’ Flora smiled. ‘Umberto – he’s our groundsman – is a real expert and last year was a very good year for the vines up here.’ She took a sip herself and addressed Jane directly. ‘So, Jane, what brings you to Italy? Veronica tells me your mother’s from Milan. Is this a return to your roots?’
‘I suppose you could say that. I was born and brought up in the UK, but I do feel a real connection to Italy.’ As she spoke, she realised just how true that was. She had been feeling more and more at home.
‘That’s what I did, you know.’ In response to the expression on Jane’s face, Flora elaborated. ‘I got married and moved to England when I was in my early twenties and I lived happily over there until my husband passed away thirty years ago. After his death, I knew I wanted to come back to the family home in Italy and I’m so pleased I did, particularly as Veronica and Peter also decided to move to Venice at the same time. It’s good to know that the villa here and the palazzo in Venice are being lived in by members of our family once more.’
‘This is a wonderful place, as is the palazzo in Venice.’
‘Veronica tells me you were in the army. You probably know that my grandson, David followed in the Cooper family tradition and joined the army. Do you come from a military background?’
‘Not at all. Originally I joined up so the army would pay to put me through university. That way I didn’t end up with a massive student loan.’ Jane was pleased to find she was able to talk about her military career without it arousing any unwanted upsurge of emotion. Even just a few weeks ago this wouldn’t have been possible.
‘That sounds very sensible. But you enjoyed your time in the army?’
