Learning to Dance Again (9 page)

‘Thank you Duncan. This was a great idea of yours.’

When Julia had finished her dinner and the best part of the bottle of wine, she decided to find her iPad and send a message back home to tell everyone how she was getting on. However, the Wi-Fi would not connect. She looked at her watch. It was only just after eight and she knew Tony wouldn’t be eating for another hour, so she decided to go over and ask him how to switch on the Wi-Fi.

She went to the bathroom and brushed her hair and slicked on a tiny bit of l
ip gloss. She looked down at her dress; it was a little crumpled from where she had slept in it, but it was presentable enough for a five minute visit to her landlord. But to be on the safe side she slipped on a cropped cardigan to cover up her bare arms.

She put on h
er leather flip flops and strolled up to the house. Her path was illuminated by solar lights nestled in the fragrant lavender hedges. There were no signs of life in the garden as she made her way to Tony’s villa, so Julia walked around the house to look for the front door. There were stone steps leading up to a large imposing double door, which had an old fashioned bell pull. Julia reached up to ring it, but stopped before it made a sound. She suddenly felt shy and didn’t want to disturb Tony. She decided she would just send Bryden and Jamie a text instead of emails. She could wait until tomorrow.

She turned to leave, but as she did the front door opened and Tony appeared, holding a cat in his arms. He bent down to put the cat outside a
nd looked up and saw Julia.

‘Oh
good, you changed your mind. Come in, do; I was just putting Gatto out for the night.’

The cat slunk off into the dark undergrowth of the garden as Julia watched.

She followed Tony into the house.

‘I was trying to connect up to the
Wi-Fi; I just came over to see if it was switched on. It doesn’t seem to be working.’

‘
I’m so sorry; I did switch it off this morning. It’s a habit of mine when I’m writing; otherwise I get distracted by the internet. I lose hours of my life looking at nonsense on Twitter. I’ll put it on for you now, and try and remember not to switch it off while you’re here.’

He disappeared into
his office and came back seconds later.

‘There, it’s
back on. Now, what can I offer you to drink? A gin and tonic or perhaps a glass of wine. I have some lovely Prosecco chilling in the fridge.’

He walked away into the kitchen as he spoke, which forced Julia to follow him.

‘Um, well actually, I wasn’t going to stay for dinner…’

‘Nonsense, you’re here now. Maria has made a lovely
Sicilian roast lamb. You really must try it. Sebastian and Lydia will be here in a little while. I think Jürgen and Christine will be coming with them. Lovely people; you must meet them.’

Julia realised
she was trapped, without any viable excuse not to stay. She really wasn’t very hungry now, and was feeling a little tipsy already.

Tony stood beside a huge
silver fridge holding an opened bottle of Prosecco in his hand.

‘Will this do?’

‘Lovely thanks!’

‘You know I never normally
socialise with my guests in the holiday villa, but then I’ve never had anyone stay here on their own. This is a lovely change for me.’

He handed Julia the
glass of wine.

She
took a sip and looked around the kitchen. It was the largest kitchen she had ever seen; with acres of spotless black marble worktops on top of hand-crafted cream wooden units. An eight burner range-cooker took pride of place along one wall, a large crystal vase of lilies stood in the centre of a farmhouse style table. It had not been set for dinner; although it was still early.

‘Maria has done most of the cook
ing, it just needs serving up. I’m such a cheat aren’t I?’

‘Well i
t all smells delicious and I’m sure your friends come to see you rather than what you’re serving for dinner.’

‘Oh no; they
definitely come for Maria’s cooking. Although I think Eleonora was an even better cook; and a much better hostess too. I do my best though. And I’d be interested in your thoughts about how I manage later.’

Julia smiled, although she was rather puzzled by this remark. It
seemed a little weird, but then again he was a best-selling author. He was the closest to a celebrity she had ever met; perhaps weird was the norm in these circles.

‘Can I do anything to help? Lay the table perhaps?’

‘It’s all done thanks. We’re eating in the conservatory. Maria set the table out there. Come and see.’

Julia followed him through the adjoining lounge an
d into a huge conservatory lit with fairy lights and candles. The French doors were open, and in the garden she could see a large pond with underwater lighting. It looked like something out of a Hollywood film.

‘What do you think? Is it still too warm in here? I could put on the fan.’

‘No, it’s perfect; and very pretty.’

Suddenly Julia felt rather privileged to be invited for dinner. The food smelt gorgeous, the setting was beyond glamorous,
and her only regret was she had eaten so much of her frittata earlier on. She did not have much of an appetite for dinner, although the wine was certainly helping her feel a little more peckish.

Julia noticed the table had only been set for five people, which made her real
ise Tony had not taken her presence for granted. He picked up some china and cutlery from a hostess trolley parked in the corner of the room.

‘I’m glad you decided to come over, I hate odd numbers at the table. As you can see everything was here ready for you if you changed your mind.
’

Julia helped him set the place at the other end of the oval table.

Just as they had finished they heard the doorbell.

‘Ah that will be the rest of our guests; let’s go and meet them.’

Julia followed him out to the hall. If his guests were surprised to find a stranger in their midst, they did not show it. They shook hands, kissed Julia, hugged and kissed Tony, handed him a huge box of handmade chocolates, exclaimed over the smell of food, and introduced themselves to Julia, as they made their way to the conservatory. Julia was left playing hostess while Tony went back to the kitchen to fetch wine for his guests.

‘So Julia, where are you from;
that’s such an unusual accent? Are you Scottish?’ Lydia said, as she stepped outside onto the terrace, followed by the others.

‘I’m from Shetland actually, so yes
I am Scottish, although my accent is probably a little different from most other Scots.’

‘Ah yes, there’
s something almost Norwegian about your accent,’ Jürgen said.

‘Well
, we did use to belong to Norway, and there are still lots of Old Norse words in our dialect, although I have to say, if I was speaking in dialect, you probably wouldn’t understand me at all.’

‘Oh really, oh do say something in your dialect for us,’ Lydia said.

Before Julia could reply Tony came back holding a tray of Champagne flutes and another bottle of Prosecco which he opened with a flourish. He passed his new guests a glass each and then topped up Julia’s glass.

‘To old friends, new friends and friends who are no longer with us. Salut!’

‘Salut!’

He winked at Julia and took a sip of his wine.

‘Well, shall we all sit down? I’m sure you’re all starving after your
long
drive.’

‘Where have you come from?’ Julia asked Lydia.

‘Only from Palermo. Tony is just having a go at us because we haven’t seen him for quite a while.’

‘It’s been six months. I feel betrayed by you all,’ Tony said
, as he took a seat at the head of the table.

‘Some of us have real jobs you know. There’s nothing stopping you coming over to Palermo to see us,’ Sebastian said, as he sat down next to Lydia who had taken the seat on Tony’s left. Christine quickly took a seat opposite Lydia and
Jürgen sat next to his wife. Julia was left to take the seat opposite Tony. She suddenly felt exposed and inadequate amongst these glossy elegant people. She wished she had put on more make-up, or at least ironed her dress after sleeping in it.

‘Julia, weren’t you going to say something in your own language?’ Christine said, in the moment of silence as they took their seats.

‘Really? Did I miss something?’ Tony said, looking down the table and smiling at her.

‘I was just telling them
Shetlanders speak a dialect most people wouldn’t understand.’

‘
Well we must have a demonstration. We all speak English and Italian, Christine and Jürgen obviously speak German too, so we’re all interested in languages.’

Julia looked out of the window for inspiration, she had no idea what to say and hated being put on the spot. She watched Gatto mooching along by the
pond and remembered a poem she had written, many years ago. She took a deep breath.

‘Da cat wheeches doon tae da loch and stauns peerie wyes

He watches sleekit for da peerie mootie deuk 

Up in da skies a muckle bonxie skröls a warning

Tiger skelps back tae
da hoose, greetin aa da way

Back tae
neeb aside da roose

Nae more work
fa dee, du bonny langsome cat.’

She took a sip of her wine and smiled shyly at Tony, ‘so did you understand any of that?’

‘Something about a cat, or a tiger?’

‘It’s about a cat called Tiger, so yes.’

‘Fascinating!’ Tony said, ‘right, time for dinner I think.’

He stood up and left the room. Sebastian asked Jürgen a question about his work, from which Julia deduced Jürgen was an architect. The two men spoke across the table to each other, effectively cutting her off from starting a conversation with either of the women. She sat in silence and studied the two women. They did not look like they were particularly good friends with each other. Christine was a tall, athletic looking woman, probably in her late forties. Naturally blonde, she was dressed in a white silk sleeveless blouse and terracotta linen cropped trousers. She wore flat leather sandals and no jewellery at all. She didn’t appear to be wearing make-up, which made Julia feel marginally better about her own casual appearance.

Lydia on the other hand, was wearing what looked like a very ex
pensive silk jersey dress. Julia’s addiction to women’s magazines meant she was able to discern it was probably a Diane Von Furstenberg. Lydia was definitely wearing make-up, and possibly even false eyelashes, and she was probably on the wrong side of fifty, but making a brave attempt to hide it.

She turned her attention to the men.
They were definitely in their fifties, but looking good on it. Jürgen wore a white shirt, with the sleeves rolled up, exposing a chunky Tag Heure watch. Sebastian was wearing a black Paul Smith polo shirt and the most ostentatious Rolex watch she had ever seen.

Tony returned to the room with a tray which he set down on the trolley. Then he handed out plates of antipasto; gleaming olives, grilled figs, prosciutto ham and artichokes.
Julia smiled with relief it was something she recognised. Tony passed around a basket of fresh bread and Julia took a slice and put it on her side plate. The food looked delicious but she was still not desperately hungry; taking the bread was a mistake, she thought. Then the scent of rosemary wafted up to her nose and she decided she might enjoy it after all.

‘What have I missed?’ Tony said, as he sat down and picked up his glass.

‘Jürgen was just telling me about that development he’s working on in Agrigento. I think I might have to go and look at it sometime. Sounds fascinating,’ Sebastian replied.

‘Isn’t that the project where the builders unearthed some Roman ruins?’

Jürgen shrugged, ‘everywhere you turn on this island there is some kind of ancient ruin. Every one of my building projects has been built on something that was there before.’

‘What kind of projects do you do?’ Julia asked.

Jürgen turned towards her and half smiled, ‘I build villas, like this one.’

‘This is one of
Jürgen’s designs,’ Tony said, waving his hand in the air to encompass his house. ‘Italian styling with German efficiency; the perfect combination!’

‘It’s lovely. Is that how you know each other?’

‘Eleonora was a good friend of mine,’ Christine said, joining in with the conversation.

The mention of Tony’s wife seemed to make everyone go quiet for a moment. Julia wanted to know how Sebastian and Lydia fitted into this group of friends. They seemed an odd bunch.

‘What brought you over to Sicily on your own?’ Lydia asked Julia. ‘Tony tells me you booked the villa for a whole month. Are you a writer too?’

Julia laughed. ‘No, whatever gave you that idea?
I came over here to avoid my fiftieth birthday.’