Hearts On Fire Episodes 22
Marianna bit her fingernails as she waited for Jacopo to return.
The whole place was going mad. Any minute now she’d see a pig floating past like a balloon.
The only consolation was the bank balance had fallen no further.
In fact, it had improved because of deposits from two new and unexplained bookings; it was these that had surprised her the previous day.
Eventually her son’s quick footsteps approached down the corridor, and he entered, smiling.
“Well?” she asked.
He sat opposite her.
“I’ve checked out the animals, the groves and the vegetable area and I can find nothing amiss.
“I don’t understand what happened outside last night, but it was nothing sinister,” he finished.
“Perhaps it’s just as they reported.” Marianna sighed. “Charlie, for reasons I don’t understand, was pretending to be a resistance fighter, and Mark couldn’t sleep.”
“Except, according to Miss Carlotta, two people were snooping about. Mark did not mention anyone else when he told us about the person near the pigs.”
“You think he was with Julia?” Marianna asked. “She hasn’t said anything.”
“Why would she tell you about a midnight walk with the man you warned her away from?” Jacopo pointed out. “It must be Julia.”
How should Marianna respond? Her art tutor was disobeying her and hiding the fact.
Yet her guests were enjoying the retreat, and Julia seemed to exert a calming effect on the nervous Englishman.
“What do I do?” she asked Jacopo.
“I suggest nothing. They are both adults. As long as they are discreet . . .” He shrugged.
True, they couldn’t stop two adults walking at night, as long as it didn’t upset the others.
Marianna let out a sigh.
“At least one other guest has noticed, and the worst possible guest at that!”
Jacopo nodded.
“These are strange times, but Mark is happy, Miss Carlotta is joining in, and other guests have posted glowing comments on social media.
“I’ve been using them on English and French websites.”
Marianna stared at him.
“French? Why French websites?”
“We need more business. Why restrict ourselves to English-speaking guests when France is closer?” he reasoned. “The French can throw their equipment in the car and drive here.”
“We don’t speak French.” Marianna thought she was stating the obvious. “Are you expecting Océane to stay here full time?”
Jacopo shook his head.
“You don’t speak French, but I do.”
Marianna made a noise of disbelief.
“A few random phrases picked up from tourists won’t get you far. And Julia? How will she teach people who don’t speak English?”
“Julia speaks French fluently, and I speak French well enough.
“Océane has been giving me extra tuition,” he concluded.
Marianne stared even harder at him.
“I don’t believe you.”
Jacopo stood and moved to the door.
“Océane?” he called up the stairs. “Veux-tu venir au bureau, s’il te plait?”
Ten seconds later, still in her sleep shorts and shirt, Océane entered, yawning and rubbing her hair.
“Oui?”
Marianna watched as the two conversed in French, intermittently gesturing at herself, the computer, the paintings on the walls.
Eventually, Jacopo turned back to her.
“Now do you believe me?”
“Was he making sense?” she asked Océane in Italian.
“Yes. Now, can I go back to bed? It’s my day off.”
Marianna stared through the window once more, expecting to see two flying pigs and, perhaps, a cow leaping over the moon.
The sky was a clear deep blue. Not even a hint of the storm clouds they so badly needed.
At least she had explained the two new bookings – the ones she’d known nothing about.
After Océane left, she turned the conversation in another direction.
“Have you thought about how we replace Luca while he is away?”
Jacopo nodded.
“I found a people carrier we can afford. If we buy that and sell the SUV, we would only need one car. We wouldn’t need to replace him.”
“We can do it within budget?” Marianna asked.
“The budget being?”
“Zero.”
“Ah, yes. I remember.” Jacopo grinned. “Yes. The new vehicle is going cheap. I actually hope to make some money on the deal.”
Finally some good news.
“I have agreed to help Julia with the workshop this afternoon,” Marianna said. “She thinks it’s to give me a taste for tutoring, but it allows me to take guests in my car without raising suspicions about Luca’s absence.
“We’ll work out transport for the other days as we go along.”
Jacopo smiled.
“It’s an excellent idea for you to start tutoring. Even if you prefer not to teach on our art holidays, you could run day courses to generate extra cash.”
Marianna had considered the same thing.
The computer pinged to announce an incoming e-mail.
Marianna waved him away and opened the message.
It was in French.
“Jacopo!” she called.
He returned and she gestured at the e-mail.
He read it and smiled.
“Another French booking. Things will be OK, trust me.”
Marianna wanted to, very much. If only it were that easy.
To be continued…