What Happens In Tuscany.... T A Williams

directly in front of the driver, sticking up from the bonnet on imposing chrome pillars. The second was behind the driver, obviously designed to keep the flies out of the faces of the important passengers in the rear seats. It was into these seats that Katie hesitantly stepped.

      ‘There is a plaid in the compartment by your left hand, Miss, if you feel the chill.’ Mr Mackintosh stowed her bags on the seat beside him and came round to close the door for her. Katie settled back into what felt like a wonderfully comfortable sofa and looked around, feeling very conspicuous and, if the truth be told, a bit silly. Fortunately there was nobody else to be seen. She had been the only passenger to alight here and the only sign of life was a large black and white cow, who studied her meditatively from a gate on the opposite side of the road. Martin had told her that Iddlescombe was deep in the Devon countryside and he hadn’t been joking. Thought of Martin cheered her and saddened her at the same time. As the huge car coughed into life and pulled away unexpectedly smoothly, she found herself thinking fondly of him.

      Everything had happened so quickly. The previous Monday she had sent off her application for the position of companion as advertised in The Lady, and the invitation to interview had come back by return. It had been for that same week. The interview was in the legal chambers of a Mr Hereward Evergreen of the old established firm of Evergreen, Evergreen and Lighterman, just behind the Temple Church in London. Martin had offered to give her a lift up there as he claimed he had business to attend to. The drive up to London had been most enjoyable, mainly because it was the first time Katie had found herself alone with him for a relatively long period of time. In spite of her resolve to stay clear of men and concentrate on a career, she very much enjoyed his company and she got the impression that he had enjoyed hers.

      Her reminiscing was interrupted by what could have been an expletive from the driver and a shower of feathers in the air. As she looked on, Mr Mackintosh eased the vast vehicle into the side of the road and engaged a huge handbrake. The engine subsided to a throaty rumble. He walked round to the front of the car and reached down. Seconds later, he emerged with a twitching pheasant in his gloved hand. It was a fine-looking cock pheasant, or at least it had been before it hit the radiator of their car. He wrung its neck expertly to put an end to its suffering and lobbed it into the undergrowth. Katie grimaced. As he returned to the driver’s door, he felt obliged to offer an explanation.

      ‘I apologise for that, Miss. With animals, as with human beings, so often the beautiful ones are the stupidest. It’s not even as if we were going at any great speed. I trust you were not disturbed by the incident.’ Katie removed a handful of chestnut-coloured feathers from her hair and assured him that she was quite all right. Taking advantage of the relative silence, she asked how long it would take to get to Iddlescombe. He glanced down at the clock set into the walnut dashboard. ‘Not too long, Miss. We’re into the Iddlescombe Valley now. It’s about another six or seven miles to the great house. In this huge old thing that probably means about twenty minutes. If we were in one of Sir Algernon’s sportier models, we could probably make it in ten.’

      ‘Sir Algernon?’ Katie hadn’t heard his name before. At the interview, Mr Evergreen had spoken of Miss Victoria, but had not mentioned a man’s name.

      The driver’s face became more sombre. ‘Sir Algernon Chalker-Pyne, Miss. Alas, Sir Algernon passed away in the spring. There’s just his daughter, Victoria, left in the house now.’ He glanced down at the car and ran an appreciative hand over the faultless bodywork. ‘He liked his cars, did Sir Algernon. He had a fine collection of them. Miss Victoria knows that and she has asked me to ensure they’re all kept in working order. That’s why we’re in the Hispano-Suiza today. I can only take this one out when there’s no chance of rain in the forecast.’ He opened the driver’s door and was about to climb back in when Katie asked the question she had been dying to ask ever since reading the advert in The Lady.

      ‘Please, Mr Mackintosh, what’s Miss Victoria like?’ Mr Evergreen had given little away at the interview. In fact, he had been much more interested in finding out as much as he could about Katie and her parents. It turned out that he was familiar with her father’s law firm and she had no doubt that that had greatly helped her chances. But he had said little about what or who awaited her.

      She was reassured to see a smile cross Mr Mackintosh’s face. She realised that he was probably not quite as old as she had assumed at first sight. ‘She’s a fine young lady who’s had an unusual life, Miss. We all like her very much and I’m sure you’ll find her a kind and fair employer.’ He hazarded a question in his turn. ‘You are to be her companion, I believe. Is that correct?’

      ‘That’s right, Mr Mackintosh. It’s all happened so quickly. I only applied for the job last week. It’s all been a bit of a blur.’ And it had been. The offer of the job and, amazingly, the details of a salary that made even Martin, the lawyer, sit up and take notice, had arrived by special delivery the next day. As they had all agreed, whatever or whoever might be waiting for her at Iddlescombe Manor, this was too good an opportunity to miss. She had replied that she would be happy to accept and had had little time to do more than pack her bags. Apart, of course, from the couple of times she had been with Martin.

      As the car resumed its way up the increasingly narrow lane towards their destination, Katie did her best not to let her thoughts dwell on what Mackintosh might have meant by his use of the word “unusual” when describing Miss Victoria’s background. She would find out very soon. She sat back and allowed herself a few more warm memories. Upon their return from London she had insisted on taking Martin down to one of the pubs by the river for a drink. This had extended into several drinks, food and a long chat. As the sun set over the water, she had learnt more about this kind, friendly and good-looking man. By the end of the evening she was seriously considering following Jenny’s advice and saddling him up. Only the bitter memory of the last disheartening months of her festering relationship with Dean and her resolve to concentrate on achieving financial independence stopped her from doing more than kissing him goodnight. Although, she thought happily to herself as the big car swung round a particularly sharp corner, it had been a very good kiss.

      Katie didn’t really have experience of many men. There had been that first time with her friend Melanie’s brother, after both of them had consumed potentially liver-crippling quantities of cider. Her memory of the event was mercifully very hazy, but she remembered enough to know that the earth had not moved for her, at least until she started throwing up. There had been a few short-lived affairs at university and then, of course, for the last seven years, there had been Dean. She had only exchanged a few emails with him since the break-up, and if she never heard from him again, that would be just fine with her.

      She shook her head to clear it and returned her thoughts to her rugby-playing solicitor. As the big car snaked in and out among the dense undergrowth of rhododendron bushes beneath the canopy of ancient trees, she knew she was looking forward to seeing Martin again. The fact that every minute took her further away from him made this all the more unlikely.

      ‘There’s the great house up there, Miss.’ She was brought back to the present by the voice of Mr Mackintosh. He extended an arm out in front of him as the woodland gave way to open pastures. There, in the distance, set at the edge of a lake, was one of the most wonderful houses she had ever seen. As they drove towards it, faster now as the road straightened out and widened, she saw the absolute perfection of its design, a triumph of columns, arches and extravagant statuary. It was quite enormous and surrounded by magnificent gardens.

      The estate appeared to be ringed by a high stone wall that disappeared off into the distance either side of a lodge house that guarded the fine wrought iron gates. Mr Mackintosh hooted the wonderful old klaxon with his gloved hand and seconds later a figure limped out of the lodge and unlocked the gates. As they swept through, Katie saw that the gatekeeper was an old man, bald apart from an edging of straggly white hair around his shiny pate. He raised his fingers to his temple in salute and she found herself waving back like royalty.

      There was a vibration from the tyres as they crossed a cattle grid and entered the parkland. A fine selection of specimen trees dotted the fields and Katie soon realised that the animals sheltering in the shade beneath their branches were deer. It was a magnificent scene, like something out of a Gainsborough