Blinking at her instinctive response, Olivia kissed Gabriella’s cheeks and wrapped her arms around her. ‘You look well. How is business?’
‘Is quieter now of course but we have a small party of artists. How are you?’ Gabriella ushered her towards the table overlooking vines drenched in afternoon sun.
‘Very well. I should be asking you. I expect you miss Nonna greatly?’
Unwrapping a platter of assorted bruschetta, Gabriella’s lips tightened. ‘Very much I miss Elena. The farm is not the same. She was a very good friend to me.’ She bit her lip, then wiped an eye. ‘Your nonna’s wish would be for you to continue for her at the farm.’
Olivia took an olive-paste bruschetta and bit into it, grateful for the tiny reprieve as the rich flavour of Italy burst on to her tongue. She swallowed the first mouthful. ‘My life is in England, Gabriella. Unfortunately, I know nothing about Nonna’s business. How could I possibly get into such a huge business with no experience? My mamma would know far more than me.’
‘Like your nonna, you learn, and me and Nico show you. You are a clever girl. If we have new owner, we don’t know if we like them or trust them.’ Her head rocked from side to side. ‘Nico and I are very worried.’
Olivia’s chest rose as she felt the burden of guilt inside her. This was why her mother, Roz, should have been given the responsibility. It was the natural order of things. Nonna was wrong to leave it all to her. Her mother grew up here and understood the land and culture, and all that was involved in farming, maybe even the business. Although, she suspected, with all the changes, it was now as alien to Roz as it was to her.
Finishing another mouthful, Olivia said, ‘Please don’t worry. You know I would select the new owner carefully and try to put in a clause or covenant that you and Nico are to remain. I can’t make guarantees. I really can’t tell what buyers are searching for. Not until the market is tested, but you and Nico will be my first consideration, I can assure you.’
Gabriella pushed the plate of antipasto bruschetta in front of her. ‘I know you will do all you can. It’s just that I can’t imagine living and working anywhere else, not after almost forty years. Why don’t you spend some time here in Italy? We will do everything to help you. There are …’ Again Gabriella paused, sliding her fingers along her collar. ‘We will make it big family farm. Your nonna has meant for that.’ She slid down her hand down and rested it on her heart.
‘Thank you. You’ve been so loyal to Nonna. Of course she would want you here. In fact, there may be something in the legal pack. I don’t know until I go to see the lawyer. Mum said I should be able to meet up with him next week. Meanwhile, the property agent …’ she checked her watch ‘… who should be here soon actually, has a couple of people waiting to see it. Naturally, we need someone who will put their heart and soul into it, and, of course, have money to spend on the villa to renovate it and make it more habitable. I don’t know why Nonna didn’t spend more on her own comforts – maybe she didn’t have the money.’
Gabriella glared at her, alarmed, then poured fresh coffee from the percolator. ‘Elena, your nonna, wanted it that way. She was comforted by familiar things: her family and her memories of Angelo. He was her life, what with …’ She paused momentarily in silent thought. ‘You know your nonna would have loved you to have lived with her. She loved you so much and … I … although I don’t agree with her method, she had her reasons for making you her benefactor.’
Sensing Gabriella’s unease and agitation Olivia only hoped it was possible to help her and Nico. She understood, but she wasn’t totally convinced she had the power to enforce the rules, though she would certainly try.
‘I will do all I can. I promise.’
Olivia’s phone rang and she reached into her handbag.
‘Signor Ricci, yes. Very well, thank you. Yes. I’ve just arrived. I’m just coming. Oh, yes, Monday is fine. Yes, ten-thirty. Mr St. James, eleven, OK. Thank you.’ She pulled the phone away from her ear, then pushed it back again as the voice on the other end continued. ‘Yes, I remembered twelve-thirty. Signor Mas … You’d better spell that. Ah, Marcheschi. Thank you. Yes. Ciao.’
Her mouth felt suddenly dry. The responsibility was all on her to find the right buyers, and she hadn’t had a chance to spruce the house up yet. She needed to ask the right questions. She had two already and had also agreed to time with Alberto tomorrow. Breathing out a small sigh, she placed the phone in her bag. If she worked really hard, she still had Sunday to give the house an airing and make it presentable.
Nothing but several thousand euros was going to make too much of a difference to its appearance, but she certainly wasn’t prepared to do that. It had been a shock to discover the task Nonna had laden her with just a few weeks ago, and it was the reason she had felt the need to put the villa and business straight on the market.
It was far too much for her to handle. The price of it had surprised her too. She had completely underestimated what her Italian grandparents had here. She took her phone back out and swiped the screen, adding the details to her ‘Viewers list’, slowly entering the spelling of the name correctly.
Olivia glanced over at Gabriella who gazed at her with suspicion. She felt her body stiffen as she wondered if Gabriella really trusted her to do the right thing. How could she know what was right? There was nobody to ask.
‘Well, he’s coming along on Monday instead before the viewings on that day. I’d better get started,’ she told Gabriella, gathering her bags and feeling only able to empathize. There wasn’t much more she could do or offer to secure the couple’s future. ‘I’ll see you later,’ she told Gabriella and, lifting her chin, she marched out of the courtyard towards Nonna’s villa.
She couldn’t allow emotion to dictate, nor feel intimidated. She would at least look like she was confident about managing her nonna’s affairs, even if she didn’t feel it. With any luck it wouldn’t take long. If you believed the media, hundreds of people would love to own a vineyard in Tuscany. She only had to find the right one and pray they retained the staff. Nonna seriously hadn’t thought this through – that much she knew. She should have left it to someone capable.
‘Yes, and just ask me. I am happy to help.’
Still feeling wretched as she unlocked the door, Olivia placed her bags on a bench and, after scanning the darkness of the hall, headed for the main sitting room. The stale air immediately wafted up her nose, shocking her into opening shutters and windows, to allow the air and light to flood into the soulless room.
It had been neglected since her nonna’s demise, which was terribly sad. Barely anything touched since she’d left it, four weeks ago, soon after her grandmother’s funeral. For as long as she could remember, Nonna had lived in just the ground-floor rooms of the large villa, whilst she was virtually running a sizeable empire up in these Tuscan hills. She’d run the farm and the vineyards on her own for years since Nonno died – with staff, of course, and managing to keep up with much of the technology.
With Gabriella’s help, Nonna had made sure the accommodation had a professional website and an email address for bookings, as well as the telephone. Nonna had also told her they were on travel sites so that reviews and bookings were twenty-four seven. Olivia was in total awe that her nonna knew so much about it all.
Her eyes rested on Nonna’s old leather chair. It was still covered with a red chequered shawl and two cotton-canvas cushions, and it sat forlorn by the fireplace appearing sulky without its occupant. Behind it was the beautiful bridal chest or cassone, which was Nonna’s
