Page 20 of Under A Sicilian Sky
‘Say… sorry… Italian?’ The line cracked and buzzed, but it seemed Kitty had got the gist of what she needed.
Relieved, Ruby replied, ‘Yes, just something so the builder knows I’m sorry, hormonal, and it was probably tiredness or endorphins. Something like that.’
‘Andwhat?’
‘En. Dor. Phins,’ Ruby enunciated.
‘Translate… builder… strange…’
‘I can’t hear you. You keep breaking up.’
‘’Kay… the… line… tunnel now…’ The call went dead, and Ruby was left with a beeping tone.
She placed her phone on her bedside table and decided on fresh air.
When she arrived at the gatehouse this time, a man she didn’t recognise sat just inside the door on his mobile phone. She presumed him to be Luca and raised her hand in greeting. He smiled and nodded. She was a little disappointed that Luca’s presence meant Nero wouldn’t be here.
She cringed, not wishing to interrupt his call but needing to ask a question, nonetheless. She pointed at the house. ‘Excuse me. The man… l’uomo. Has he gone now? The builder?’ She made some ridiculous hand gesture that she hoped looked like sawing and then made her fingers into legs walking. ‘L’uomo, erm… gone?’ Her final gesture was that of a magician who had made something disappear. All she was missing was the cloud of smoke.
Luca nodded. ‘Ah, Miceli? Sì. Tornando più tardi oggi.’
She had no clue what he’d said but he appeared to understand what she had asked. She knewsìmeant yes, so it seemed that the builder had, in fact, gone. She nodded, thanked him in what she was pretty sure was Spanish, and smiled, before turning to wander the grounds again.
Around ten minutes later, a text arrived from Kitty.
You’re a weird fish, lol! And what kind of place is that you’re staying in??? Anyway, here is what you asked for!
There followed some Italian phrases and she quickly fired back a reply.
You’re a star. Thank you so much. Love you xx
Once back at the house, she riffled through the cupboards looking for the ingredients to make her favourite biscuits. Thankfully, the list consisted of only three items, all basic staples: sugar, butter and self-raising flour. The cookies were quick to make and, she decided, the easiest way to apologise to someone whose language she didn’t speak. She set about baking and singing to herself as she did.
Around thirty minutes later, the biscuits were cooling on a wire rack and she had finished the washing up. Using the information she had received from Kitty, she scribbled a note for the builder and left the baking under a clean tea towel. She read her message aloud in her best attempt at an Italian accent and couldn’t help a swell of pride.This should certainly sort things out.
Caro construttore,
Mi dispiace per gridare. Era la puttane gemiti o galline delifini rendendomi triste.
Ruby
Feeling quite pleased, she mentally patted herself on the back for a job well done.
* * *
The sky looked dark and ominous and there was a distinct heaviness to the air, but it was still warmer than it would’ve been back in New York. Ruby decided to grab a quick bite to eat and then have a long soak before an early night.
She’d been immersed in readingRebeccaand hadn’t heard anyone enter the house, so the sight of the dark-haired builder made her jump when she spotted him through the kitchen door. She wasn’t expecting him to return, although now wondered if he was the one sleeping on the mattress in the room she had found. It made sense. The house was out in the middle of nowhere and driving in every single day must eat into his working hours. She did wonder where the others were though. She was sure there had been mention of builders… plural.
He was freshly showered and wearing clean jeans this time and a white T-shirt that stretched taut over his biceps. Feeling a little voyeuristic, Ruby watched with a smile as he lifted the tea towel and shoved a cookie into his mouth. He groaned and let his head roll back as he chewed, clearly enjoying it; the guttural sound made her insides flip. Then he lifted up the note and read it. There was a pause where he scratched his chin and then a shower of crumbs spurted from his mouth as he howled with laughter, and her small inkling of lust rapidly turned to anger.
What a pig! An ungrateful, unkind pig. Clearly my thoughts on good-looking men aren’t unfounded! How dare he poke fun at me after I went out of my way to apologise like that?
The man appeared to read the note again and once more found it hilarious. This time, he was almost doubled over, guffawing at her apology, shaking his head. To top it off, he took out his phone and dialled. Once his call connected, he proceeded to laugh as he read her heartfelt words to someone on the other end. He, and no doubt his friend too, mocked her in Italian and she wasn’t sure whether to walk in there and slap him or just to take the plate away. He didn’t deserve her baked goods. Although she could tell her cheeks were aflame now and she couldn’t actually bring herself to move in his direction.
It was no wonder her hunger had suddenly abated and she decided to forego dinner and take her bath early. All the way up the stairs to her room, she chuntered about the ignorant pig of an Italian and his ungrateful behaviour. She was glad she couldn’t speak his language because if she could, she’d be giving him a bitter piece of her mind to spit out like he had the crumbs.
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