Page 17 of Change of Heart
‘What a pity you’re retired. You would have been exactly what I’m looking for. You see, I’m on the hunt for an architect with experience of historic buildings like the castle. Maybe you could give me a few names.’
‘Of course, of course, I’d be delighted to. Ah, here’s Margherita with the coffee. Margherita, did you realise that this young lady’s English? She speaks such good Italian I wouldn’t have known.’ He lowered his voice. ‘There are a couple of English families who have holiday homes in the village, but they speak less Italian than I do English.’ He grinned ‘And all I can say is “Good Morning”.’ He delivered the last two words in a fine attempt at an English accent. ‘The trouble comes when I run into them in the afternoon or evening – I never learnt the appropriate greetings for later in the day. Anyway, do tell us, please, how it is that a charming English lady is responsible for one of Italy’s finest old buildings – and how it is you speak better Italian than I do.’
Alice gave them a brief summary of how she had ended up here. She mentioned her time in the Dolomites and at the Manor, and Signor Bolognese looked impressed. She was mildly impressed herself that she found it possible to talk about her years in the mountains without qualms. This had to be progress. The architect chatted to her at some length about historic buildings in Britain that he would have liked to visit, and Alice told him about the estate management course she had done. Finally, as she took her last sip of the rapidly cooling coffee, idly reflecting that with so much caffeine in her system she was probably going to find it hard to get to sleep tonight, she brought him around to the subject of architects, and he demonstrated that his claim to know all about local firms was no mere boast.
While she scribbled in her notebook, he ran through almost a dozen different architects’ studios in Parma, detailing their advantages and disadvantages until she had a pretty clear idea of those best qualified and experienced for what she wanted. Unsurprisingly the architects responsible for Santa Margherita church received a scathing review. After a bit of discussion, they agreed on a shortlist of three: two old established firms and one relatively new one. Interestingly, when she pressed him for his number one choice, he came down on the side of the new company.
‘Together with my studio work, I also taught for many years at Parma university, and one of my best students is the man behind this relatively new studio. They’ve only been in existence for four or five years, but they’ve already gained an excellent reputation. Luca, his name is. After qualifying, he went off to work down south of Rome for a number of years and he told me he was involved in the restoration of several castles as well as an abandoned medieval village. He certainly has the experience and I’m sure you’d get on well with him. Yes, when you make an appointment, ask for Luca – and mention my name.’
Alice thanked the two of the most warmly for their hospitality and for the valuable advice, and she promised Signor Bolognese that she would invite him for a private visit to the castle before any of the major work started. He gave her his card, kissed her hand, and she left with the conviction she had just made two new friends.
Chapter 13
Alice spent the week exploring the castle and its grounds, making appointments to see architects and tradesmen, and setting about clearing a workspace for herself. Although Simonetta offered her a choice of fine rooms on the first floor for her use, Alice was determined to establish her own domain as soon as possible so as not to intrude upon the family. She installed herself in the room she’d already earmarked as her office during her first thorough inspection of the castle. It was still filled with all manner of junk and inhabited by some truly scary arachnids as well as rodents and she was more than happy to accept an offer of help from Alfonso and Pietro.
It was clear that some of the junk lying submerged under a network of cobwebs, so dense it almost looked like a sheet, had been there for decades if not centuries. Among the mouldy clothes, worm-eaten furniture and broken pots and bottles they came across a number of real gems. Alfonso and his son found no fewer than five vicious spearheads, their wooden shafts now so rotten they crumbled away as the men picked them up. Along with them were three or four rusty bowl-shaped helmets and even a fine longsword, so heavy that Alice had trouble lifting it even using both her hands. The leather of its handle had rotted in parts but it was still a magnificent artefact and when Alice showed the finds to the baron, his eyes lit up and he told her he would make sure that the sword and the other pieces of military memorabilia were carefully stored in readiness for display in the new castle museum when it opened.
There was no form of heating but hopefully for the next four or five months she wouldn’t need any, and by the time autumn arrived there should be a new central heating system in operation. As far as furniture was concerned, once she had spent a whole morning scrubbing the floors and walls as clean as she could, she picked out a desk and a couple of chairs from under one of the dustsheets on the first floor which, while nice, weren’t special enough to put on display. Her two willing helpers carted the furniture downstairs and set it up, and Alfonso even managed to find a working desk light that he proudly set in place.
‘There, signora, it looks like an office already.’
‘Thank you both so much for all your help and, remember, it’s Alice, not signora. Okay?’
Alfonso and his son had both been with her on Tuesday morning when Rocco from the sawmill had come to inspect the surrounding woods. Rocco had been most impressed with the variety, age and condition of the trees and he went off promising to send her a plan of action and a written offer of collaboration which would hopefully benefit both sides. As for Alfonso and Pietro, they appeared delighted to see that things were starting to happen at long last and Alice got the feeling that Ines might be changing her mind about their willingness to work.
In particular, the men were enthusiastic, if slightly mystified, by the idea of breeding alpacas and, once her office was set up, they went off to select the most suitable fields for livestock and to start mending and replacing rotten fences and strengthening walls. Unlike Devon, this area had no hedges and Alice noticed that most of the local farmers used electric fences to create fields in the wide, open grasslands, so they did the same. Alfonso, who knew most of the farmers in the area, promised to put out feelers as to where they could get hold of alpacas. After consultation with Simonetta, Alice asked him to investigate the cost of replacing the old tractor – which she felt sure should end up in the castle museum – and buying a quadbike, one of the necessities on a modern farm that her father swore by. The response from Alfonso and his son had been barely concealed delight.
As for cattle, Alice decided to wait until the castle was open and producing decent regular income before embarking on the considerable expense of setting up a proper modern milking parlour. The beauty of the alpacas was that they were hardy animals and her father had assured her that they didn’t need very much in terms of initial outlay apart from just buying the animals and then shearing them once a year. She had been reading articles online and had ordered a book in Italian written by an alpaca farmer up north near Turin. Her father also promised to send her a copy of the book he had been reading so that she could build up as much knowledge as possible about this rather unusual animal. By the end of the week, she was definitely getting the feeling that the plans were starting to come together.
She knew the most important first step was to decide on an architect and she made three appointments in Parma for Friday afternoon with the firms recommended by Signor Bolognese. She drove down early and spent the morning going around the city, trying to sort out the bureaucratic headaches involved with resuming employment here in Italy after a four-year gap. Fortunately, she still had a sheaf of documents left over from when she had worked over here before and, even better, she had kept her Italian bank account and tax code. Even so, she was feeling shell-shocked by the time she emerged from the last of the offices and headed for a café under one of theportici, the covered arcades that lined the busy shopping streets, where she sat down gratefully to relax with a sandwich and a long glass of cold mineral water.
She had arranged things so as to start the afternoon’s interviews with the two older firms that Signor Bolognese had recommended, before finishing off with his first choice, the newest of the three, LM Architects. That way she would be able to compare each of them and choose one to present to the family for their approval next week during what was becoming a regular Monday morning meeting.
All three firms were within walking distance of each other in the centre of Parma. Unlike the previous time when she had spent the night here after her interview, she had managed to get into the city and find a parking space without getting totally confused by the lack of road signs and the one-way system. She left the car and went to her first appointment where she was seen by an elderly gentleman with white hair, not dissimilar to Signor Bolognese in appearance, although his manner was less affable. He was courteous and polite, but it seemed to Alice that he was a bit too self-important and she had a feeling that, however wide and varied his experience might be, she was likely to find herself constantly fighting to get her own way. She wanted an architect she could work with, not for.
The second architects’ studio was less than a hundred metres along the same street. This time she was seen by a woman. Probably in her late fifties, she was elegantly dressed, absolutely dripping with gold and with long blood-red fingernails. Although she, too, was polite, there was no warmth there, and from the schedule of charges that she gave Alice it was clear that employing her firm would cost an arm and a leg. After all, designer clothes and manicures didn’t come cheap. Alice was, therefore, far from optimistic when she arrived at her third and final appointment of the day.
Unlike the previous two offices, the last studio was situated in a relatively modern building, just on the edge of thecentro storico. Alice took the lift to the top floor and stepped out into a light and airy lobby with a panoramic window looking out over the roofs of the city. The sign on the glass door in front of her indicated that she had arrived at LM Architects. She opened it and walked in to be greeted by a young man in his early twenties sitting behind a glass-topped desk. He looked up and produced a friendly smile as Alice walked in.
‘Signora Sterling? You’ve come to see Luca?’
Alice smiled back. ‘That’s right. I’m told he’s the man to see about historic building works.’
‘He certainly is.’ The receptionist pressed a button and spoke into an intercom on his desk. ‘Signora Sterling’s here, Luca. Shall I show her in?’
‘Yes, please, Carlo.’ The voice sounded as if it belonged to another young man, and when Carlo opened a door and ushered her in, Alice saw that the architect was probably only three or four years older than she was, but it wasn’t his age that struck her most forcibly. As the receptionist retreated, closing the door behind him, Alice momentarily lost the power of speech, her eyes trained on the fair-haired man sitting behind another glass-topped desk, a familiar spark of attraction shooting through her. She might well have stayed there, rooted to the spot, if there hadn’t been a movement from beneath the desk. A big black dog roused himself from his master’s feet and came padding across the tiled floor towards her, his tail wagging lazily. As he did so, the architect stood up with a look of amazement on his face.
‘It’s you… from the restaurant.’ He sounded as surprised as she felt.
She did her best to kick herself into gear and attempted a reply, keeping her eyes trained on the big black dog at her feet who was nuzzling her with his nose. ‘I was just going to say the exact same thing. I didn’t know you were an architect.’ Simonetta hadn’t said anything about this.
‘And I didn’t know I was going to see you again so soon.’ He followed his dog across to her and they shook hands. Alice felt an almost electric thrill run through her as they did so, and she hastily dropped her eyes to the dog again as she felt her cheeks flush.
After counting to ten and taking a deep breath she steeled herself to look up from the dog again and saw a hint of a smile on his face, no doubt caused by the bewildered expression on her face. ‘But your name’s Luca…’
‘That’s right. Luca Montorso, and Carlo told me you’re Alice Sterling.’ He indicated a seat in front of his desk. As her befuddled brain gradually began to register what she had just heard, she sank down gratefully onto the stylish steel and leather chair and took a couple of deep breaths.
‘I thought your name was Tommaso…’
