Broken Chord (32 page)

Piero and Marta took a last look at the villa and then got into their car. It was loaded up with their belongings. Tebaldo, Isabella and the children stood outside the door and waved goodbye to them. As the car disappeared down the drive, Teo put his arm around the heavily pregnant Isabella. “It was time for them to go,” he said.

“They’ll be alright. The photos of their farmhouse look charming.”

“It’s not far away. We could go and see them.”

“Yes, but you know we won’t. It’s over and done with. I’m glad we’re going back to Florence. I can’t stand this house.”

“Well, the American who’s bought it thinks it great. He even likes the Rossi family. He told me they’re picturesque.”

She laughed. “Perhaps they’ll get on well with him. After all he was on the right side during the war and Americans are so friendly”

“Primo Rossi is a terrible old racist. I don’t think I’d want him as a friend.”

“Yes, but the Americans might. They’ll probably have him look after the garden and invite him into the kitchen for a glass of wine.”

“My God! I’m glad I won’t be around to see that.”

“I didn’t tell you but the other day I saw Guido in Lucca. He looked as he always did and he had a gorgeous young man on his arm.”

“Really. Perhaps it was a cousin.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Neither do I.”

She smiled at him. “It wouldn’t have lasted long you know.”

“No, but it’s good that it never happened.”

“Ursula was fond of him.”

“I know. She was fond of us all. That was the problem. She didn’t love any of us.”

“I don’t think she knew how to.”

Marta looked back once and then turned her head forward, looking towards the future. “I can’t believe we’re out of there at last. What took us so long?”

“You. Every house we looked at had something wrong with it.”

“I know. It’s hard to downsize. I mean it’s hard mentally.”

Piero smiled at her affectionately. She was her old self again. If anything she looked younger than the previous year and she was enthusiastic too. The farm they’d bought was large enough for them to become self-sufficient, not that they needed to. Their years with Ursula had provided them with a very comfortable nest egg. Piero knew a lot about gardening but Marta had been reading books on the subject and reckoned she knew almost as much as he did.

“I think we made a good choice. It’s not just the local yokels. There’s quite a few foreigners in the village,” he said.

“Yes. They seem very nice.”

“We’ll have a house-warming party and invite them all along. That’s the way to get to know people.”

“Piero, don’t ever tell anyone who we worked for. I wouldn’t like to be associated with the von Bachmanns.”

“No.”

“After all, what were they to us, just our employers, nothing more.”

“They were barbarians, well maybe not Tebaldo, but the rest
of them were flesh-eating barbarians. The sort that tear your heart out and leave you to bleed to death.”

“Piero! That’s a terrible thing to say.”

“Is it?”

The car drove on through the sunny day heading towards the north, climbing now towards the hills and a new life.