What Happens in the Alps... (9 page)

Considering there were two signs outside indicating that this was a school, Annie wasn't overly impressed by his powers of observation. She explained that it was a private English-language school and repeated her assertion that she had nothing to do with what had been, pretty clearly, a hoax. She was just coming round to wondering if this might in some way be linked to the attempted theft of her sign when the fireman demonstrated that he wasn't as silly as he looked.

‘Do you have any enemies, signorina?'

She shook her head. ‘I don't think so, but a funny thing happened on Friday night.' She went on to tell them about the sign, mentioning that Beppe from the pizzeria would be able to vouch that she was telling the truth. As she spoke, they both began to relax. Finally, the fireman with the red helmet replaced the clipboard under his arm and straightened up.

‘It rather sounds to me as if you may have made an enemy of somebody here in Santorso. Maybe a competitor?' He looked across at the other man and they exchanged imperceptible nods of the head. ‘Anyway, for now we're satisfied you are not responsible. My advice, signorina, is for you to find out who's doing this and get them to stop. If you do find them, tell them they're risking legal action if they're caught.' He turned for the door, stopped, hesitated and then turned back towards her again. ‘Tell me, signorina, do you teach only children, or adults as well?'

‘Both. Children in the afternoons and adults in the evening. Why? Are you interested in a course yourself?'

The fireman looked slightly embarrassed. ‘I'm afraid with all the tourists coming into the valley and foreigners buying property up here, it's getting more and more important that the emergency services should be able to speak English. I wonder, would your school maybe be interested in running a course for some of our officers?'

Annie was hard-pushed to stop herself from laughing. If Gruglio from the ABC School was behind this hoax, it had backfired on him badly. She picked up a handful of brochures and gave them to the officer, along with her visiting card. He promised to take a good look and call her. Both men saluted and left looking far happier than when they had first arrived.

Annie closed the door behind them and headed for her office. She needed to sit down. It had been a rude awakening. But not as rude as the awakening Gruglio was going to get from her if he really was behind this kind of hoax.

That week rushed by in a blur of decorators, plumbers and electricians. Fortunately, there were no further visits from the fire brigade. Annie had loads of admin to cope with and spent the next evenings sitting at the computer, trying to ensure she had thought of everything.

On Wednesday she received three bits of news. The first was that the new school furniture would be delivered the following week. The second was in a text from Matt. He wondered if she would have dinner with him on Friday. She sent him back a text saying yes. The third was a phone call on her mobile phone, just as she was sitting down to a mug of tea. She didn't recognise the caller ID so she answered somewhat tentatively.

‘Yes, hello.'

‘Is that Annie Brewer?' It was an English voice that sounded vaguely familiar.

‘Yes, I'm Annie. Who's that?'

‘My name's Alex Lago. We met the other week when you very kindly looked after my father's Labrador when he had his accident.'

Annie sat up so sharply she spilt the tea and banged her knee against the underside of her desk, only just suppressing a cry. So the mysterious Alessandro was Alex the Englishman? But she had heard him speak Italian, not just like an Italian, but as an Italian. ‘You're English?'

‘Sort of. I'll explain some time. Anyway, I was wondering if I could buy you dinner to thank you once more for looking after Leo. By the way, he's as good as new and bouncing around again.'

‘But you've already sent me that enormous bunch of flowers. I've been trying to find you to say thank you. That was too kind.' She hesitated, but not for very long. After all, this was just his way of saying thank you. ‘Well, if you're sure, I'd love to have dinner with you.'

‘Excellent. How about tonight or tomorrow?'

Annie had no special plans for either evening. ‘Whichever – you choose.'

‘Shall we say tonight? Where would you like me to pick you up? I thought we could maybe go to the
Piazza
in Santorso, if you know it.' Annie certainly did. It was the only restaurant in town with a Michelin star and she had been waiting for a special occasion before investing in a meal there. She was quick to reply.

‘I can meet you there. I'm living nearby so there's no need to pick me up. But are you sure? We could just as easily go somewhere simpler.'

‘Not at all. It's the least I can do. Besides, it's good to have a really fine meal every now and then. So, how about we meet there at eight?'

‘That would be great, thanks. See you tonight.'

Annie dropped the phone back onto her desk and went through to reception. Paolina, clad in what looked suspiciously like a flour sack, looked up from her computer. ‘What's up, Annie? You look as if you've seen a ghost.'

Annie leant against the counter and told her about her dinner invitation. Paolina looked fascinated, and relieved. Annie soon realised why the news might have come as a relief to her. ‘So you're going out with your Alessandro with the blue eyes, Annie. How exciting.' There was a short pause. ‘So, does that mean that you and Matt aren't an item?'

‘Me and Matt?' Annie straightened up. ‘Heaven forbid.' It occurred to her that the right moment to tell Paolina all about Matt had finally presented itself. ‘Matt's not for me, and he's not for any girl with half a brain.'

Paolina gave her a quizzical look. ‘What does that mean, Annie? I thought you and he were old friends.'

‘We are, Paolina. And he's a good friend, but that's not the problem.' She paused for a moment, wondering how to phrase it. ‘You see, Matt's not what you might call serious when it comes to his relationships.' She caught Paolina's eye. ‘If you took him home to meet your mother, he'd probably try and sleep with her. Putting it as nicely as possible, he's a predator. He's had more women than Casanova and, as far as I can tell, he's never got emotionally involved with any of them.' If she thought this was going to cool Paolina's ardour, she was to be disappointed.

‘But there's always a first time for everything. Sooner or later he'll meet the right girl. And there's something about a man with experience…' From the expression on Paolina's face, it was pretty clear that she saw herself in line for the position. Finally, Annie gave up, desperately hoping that Matt would be able to keep his side of the bargain in the face of what was likely to prove to be a sustained assault by Paolina.

It took Annie an age to get ready for what Paolina had spent all day annoyingly referring to as a date.
This is not a date
, she told herself angrily as she stepped out of the shower and hunted for the hairdryer.
He's a nice man who wants to take me out to dinner, to say thank you for doing him a favour.
I'm going along with it out of politeness and
, she admitted to herself as her attempts to locate the hairdryer became more frantic,
out of curiosity.
Just how is it he's Italian and English at the same time
?

She left the school on the stroke of eight o'clock and walked up the road to the main square. Hoar frost sparkled on the stone slabs beneath her feet and the clicking of her heels sounded strange to her. She hadn't worn such formal shoes for a long time now. In fact, she felt rather unsteady on heels after so long. She justified her choice to herself as being because he was tall. She deliberately avoided any attempt at justification of the very smart, and maybe just a tad revealing, black dress she had chosen.

She was feeling quite unusually nervous as she came into the square and saw a tall figure standing outside the restaurant. As she saw him, so he saw her, and he came towards her, meeting her in the light of a street lamp.

‘Good evening. How good to see you again.' His breath formed a swirling cloud around his face.

‘Oh, hello.' She wasn't sure what else to say so she fell in beside him as they walked over to the restaurant in silence. Inside, it was blissfully warm and they were greeted by an elegant waiter who took their coats. She felt Alex's eyes on her and heard his voice as she turned towards him.

‘Wow. You're looking wonderful.' He sounded as if he meant it and she felt the colour rush to her cheeks.

‘Well, you're looking very smart yourself.' And he was. He was wearing a dark suit and an immaculate light blue shirt, open at the neck. Annie didn't know much about men's clothes, but this outfit had
expensive
written all over it. She felt pleased she had opted for one of her smartest dresses. She noticed the waiter's eyes drop briefly to her décolleté and she hastily glanced down to check she was decent. Reassured, she followed Alex into the splendid dining room.

The restaurant had formerly been a gentleman's residence. The highly polished floor was an intricate design of oak parquet, and the oak theme continued onto the panelled walls. On the end wall, there was an old mural depicting a massive tree whose branches reached upwards and outwards. Names of illustrious ancestors were painted onto this spectacular, if rather ostentatious, family tree. The double doors into the room were enormous, rising up almost to the ceiling, and that was already twice the height of most normal houses. Chandeliers hung from finely carved beams, illuminating the dozen or so tables below, most of which were already occupied. The waiters were all formally dressed in jackets, waistcoats and bowties. Massive windows, framed by silk curtains, looked out under the arches that bordered the square. It looked, and no doubt was, classy, ostentatious and pricey. Annie felt vaguely uncomfortable, but did her best to conceal her feelings.

Annie and Alex were led to a table right beside one of the huge windows. As she sat down, the waiter slid her chair in behind her, and Annie glanced across at her companion. The bright blue eyes caught hers and he smiled.

‘I'm really glad you accepted my invitation.'

‘It's quite a place. Do you come here often?'
Do you come here often?
She heard her words and suppressed a groan. Why in the name of God had she decided to come out with that old cliché? Taking a deep breath, she did her best to relax and tried again. ‘This is the first time I've been in here. It's amazing.'

He avoided answering her question and asked one of his own. ‘So, if I may ask, are you a long-time resident of Santorso, or a recent arrival?'

‘Only a few months, but I've lived in Turin for ten years or so and we used to come up to the valley most weekends.'

He avoided commenting on her use of the plural pronoun. ‘So, why come up here now?'

‘It was time for a change.'

At that moment, the headwaiter appeared. He was an imposing character, not as tall as Alex, but boasting a flamboyant moustache with waxed ends that would have put Salvador Dali to shame.

‘
Signori, buona sera.
' He laid heavy leather menus on the table in front of them and then stepped to one side as an equally immaculate waiter appeared with a silver tray bearing two glasses. He set them reverently on the table as the maitre d' intoned, ‘The aperitif of the house.' He bowed and swept away, leaving Annie feeling rather overwhelmed. For his part, Alex looked as if he ate like this every day. He picked up his glass and held it out towards her.

‘Your very good health.'

Annie clinked her glass against his and tasted the drink, doing her best to work out what was in it. Across the table from her, Alex was doing the same. ‘Champagne, or something fizzy as a base and some sort of fruit cordial, maybe?' He held it up to the light. Annie nodded her head.

‘Do you think it might be Cassis? But there's more to it than that. Mint, I think, and something stronger. How about brandy?'

He gave her an appreciative look and sipped from the glass once more. ‘Yup, I reckon you've nailed it. You have a very fine palate, Annie Brewer; sophisticated tastes.'

‘I just don't have the bankroll to support them.' She smiled back at him, the ice broken. ‘So, what about you, Alex? What's the story? How come you speak Italian like an Italian and English like one of us?'

‘I
am
one of us. My mum was English, my father's Italian. I was actually born in the UK, where my dad was working at the time, and I lived there until I was ten. Then we came back over here to live, before I went back to uni in Nottingham. Since then I've been all over the place, but I've been back here in the valley for almost two years now.'

‘You said “back in the valley”. Were you from here originally?'

‘In a manner of speaking. My father's from here and I was conceived here apparently, even if I was born in London. And when I came over for secondary school, that was here in Santorso.' He took another sip of the drink. ‘Anyway, talking of language, your Italian's pretty damn good. That first time I saw you, it was only the way you pronounced your name that gave you away.' He was interrupted by his phone ringing in his inside pocket. He pulled it out, checked the number and glanced at her apologetically. ‘I'm sorry, Annie, I'm going to have to take this. Why can't the Americans be on the same time as the rest of us?'

He stood up and went out into the lobby. Annie picked up the menu in his absence and looked through it. Luckily it was a thick menu as he was outside for almost five minutes. When he returned, he apologised again. ‘I'm so sorry about that. We've got a big promotional event coming up in January and I've been trying to get hold of these people for days now. Anyway,' he picked up his menu. ‘So, what do you fancy?'