Page 19 of Never Too Late
‘Just say the word.’ Ethan’s voice was unusually soft and comforting, and Steph was impressed. ‘It’s been a privilege.’
She waited until the sound of Ben’s retreating footsteps on the gravel had disappeared before standing up and joining Ethan at the console.
‘Did you manage to get all that?’
‘Yes, and it sounded great.’ He caught her eye for a moment before surprising her with another unexpected mood swing. ‘Keith’s not wrong, you know. You’re perfect to replace Vince.’
This gentler side was the Ethan she had fallen for in years gone by and she found herself wondering if he really might be able to shed the fast-living persona he had adopted of late and return to being the man she had once loved. She even allowed herself to touch his shoulder for a moment as she answered.
‘Thanks, Ethan. That means a lot.’
As if regretting his moment of tenderness, he glanced down at his watch. ‘It’s almost six. I’ve got stuff to do. Will you finish up and switch off? I’ll see you later.’
Just after one o’clock in the morning the storm struck and Steph was awakened by a thunderclap that made her ears ring. This was accompanied almost simultaneously by a flash of lightning that lit up the room. Throwing off the sheet under which she had been sleeping, she got out of bed and padded across to the window just in time to hear the rain start. One moment it wasn’t raining, the next moment it was bucketing down. Suddenly, almost as if a dam had breached, a torrential deluge came pouring out of the sky, battering the roof and turning the path outside into a rushing stream in a matter of minutes. Accompanied by further thunderclaps and sheet lightning that spread all the way across the horizon, the storm was intimidating and at the same time spectacular. Along with the rain came a wonderful refreshing breeze that began to dispel the increasingly clammy, humid air that had been building up for hours.
The rain continued to pour down ever harder, and it occurred to Steph that maybe somebody should go and check that the very expensive electrical equipment in the studio wasn’t at risk of being flooded. Although she felt sure that Ethan couldn’t possibly have slept through such a racket, she doubted that he would be bothered to get up, so she decided that she had better go herself. She pulled on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt and let herself out onto the landing. She tried the light switch out there, but the storm must have knocked out the power. However, the regular flashes of lightning provided more than enough light for her to find her way along to the stairs. As she passed Ethan’s door, she wondered whether to tell him where she was going in case he preferred to check on it himself but seeing as she was dressed now – sort of – she carried on down the stairs without him.
A glance out of the front door revealed that the path up to the house had been transformed into a torrent, but it had been designed so as to divert the water away from the building, and the place looked in no danger of being flooded. She opened the door to the studio just to be on the safe side and took a quick look around to see that nothing had been left on that could be damaged by the electrical storm, but all was well. She was just about to go back upstairs again when she heard footsteps and a voice at the foot of the stairs right outside the studio door.
‘Oh, hell, I’m going to get soaked.’ He was muttering to himself.
Steph froze with her hand on the door handle. The voice unmistakably belonged to Denver. What on earth was he doing here? Had he maybe even come to seek her out? Silently she felt for the bolt on the inside of the studio door and pushed it across while bad-tempered grumbling continued outside for some minutes. She even saw the door handle turn at one point and she blessed the instinct that had made her lock herself in. Finally she heard the front door bang and the sound of running footsteps splashing up the path in the direction of the villa.
She gave it another minute before unbolting the door and peering out into the now empty lobby. Reassured, she stepped out of the studio and pulled the door shut behind her. Checking that the front door was safely closed, she scampered upstairs and into her bedroom, turning the key in the lock behind her. A quick check with the aid of the torch on her phone – even under the bed – confirmed that she was alone and she stretched out on top of the single sheet, her brain swirling.
What had brought Denver down here at one o’clock in the morning? From what he had said about going to get drenched, it was evident that he had been about to leave; he hadn’t just arrived. When she had heard his voice, it was because he had come down the stairs and was about to return to the villa. Had he been looking for her in her room and, finding it empty, left again? Alternatively, if he hadn’t been coming to see her, then presumably he must have been with Ethan, but why at this time of night? It made no sense. One thing was for sure: from now on she was going to keep her door locked at all times.
Chapter 9
Next morning the scene that greeted Steph when she looked out of the window was very different from previous days. The rain had stopped, but thick cloud covered the whole sky. As a result, yesterday’s clear blue sea was now leaden grey and big waves were crashing against the cliffs at the mouth of the bay, sending spume flying. The smell of ozone reached up to her window and she breathed deeply, relishing the fresher feel to the air. Today she decided not to go swimming, but simply to go for a walk on the beach.
Although the waves down here weren’t anything like as big as those out in the gulf, the storm had stirred up the sandy bottom and the water was no longer crystal clear. Clumps of seaweed, pieces of driftwood and assorted bits of detritus littered the shore. Paw prints in the damp sand indicated that the Labrador had been here not too long ago but there was no sign of him now. Looking at the chaotic waves smashing into the cliffs further out, Steph hoped the dog hadn’t decided to go for a swim.
Keen to get a better view over the gulf towards La Spezia, she decided to climb one of the cliffs and took a narrow path that led upwards on the opposite side of the bay from Robert’s house. She deliberately chose this direction, rather than risk running into him, as she knew full well that she was better off staying well clear of him, in spite of that spark of attraction. The more she thought about it, the more she came round to the realisation that it was probably for the best that he evidently had no interest in her. Let him stick to his bimbos. That way, as she became ever more involved with his father’s band, there would be no risk of any sort of emotional entanglement spoiling what promised to be a fantastic chance for her.
Thoughts of Robert reminded her of his big brother, and she questioned, yet again, what Denver might have been doing at the apartment last night. There had been no sign of Ethan when she had come out of her room just now, and she assumed he was catching up on his sleep after the broken night, but had his night been shortened not so much by the storm as by a visit from Denver and, if so, why?
The view from the cliff top was spectacular. She stood there, bracing herself against the buffeting wind, and gazed around. The first thing she saw was Robert’s red brick house right on the end of the opposite headland, little more than a hundred metres away across the mouth of the bay. The view from his house had to be similar to the view from where she was standing, and she felt sure it must be a gorgeous place to live on a fine day. On a day like today the noise of the crashing waves no doubt created quite a bit of a disturbance, but that was a small price to pay for a view like this. There was no sign of him or his dog and no sound of his violin – although in this wind it was hard to tell. A glance at her watch told her it was already past eight, so she turned and went back to the guest apartment, stopping off to check that all was still well in the studio first. To her surprise she found Ethan in there, looking frazzled. He glanced up as he heard the door open and rubbed a weary hand across his forehead.
‘Hi, Steph. You okay?’
He really didn’t look well at all. ‘I’m fine, but you look knackered. Is something wrong? Are you sick?’
He shook his head irritably. ‘I’m okay. Leave me alone.’
She hesitated before doing as she was told, but she was concerned. It certainly looked as though he hadn’t slept well and, once again, she found herself thinking of Denver and his midnight visit. She was still thinking about it when she went up to the villa for breakfast. Today breakfast was set up indoors in the long dining room and she was relieved to see there was no sign of Denver. The only person at the table was Sky and she gave Steph a friendly wave.
‘Did you manage to get any sleep? Tom and I hardly slept a wink.’
‘Sort of, but that was quite a storm, wasn’t it? Is that sort of thing common here?’
‘This is the first time I’ve been here in September. Normally we come in July or August and, although we’ve had a few storms, we’ve never had anything as violent as that. Cesare tells me local radio’s been saying that a dozen boats lost their moorings, including one of those huge luxury yachts, and the marina looks like a bomb’s gone off.’
At that moment, Cesare appeared. ‘It’s very unusual so early in the autumn. The reason La Spezia’s such an important naval base is because it’s normally very sheltered. Anyway, Stefania, what can I get you? Your usual, or would you like something more substantial?’
Steph thanked him but just asked for a cappuccino and a croissant and he went off. Returning her attention to Sky, she queried where everybody else was.
‘Mum and Dad were up early – sorting stuff out for Friday’s party, I think. The others are probably still in bed, trying to catch up on the sleep they lost last night.’ She grinned. ‘I wonder how Rob got on out there on the cliff top. It must have been scary.’
