The Mystery, page 9
“Good morning, little one,” Valentina smiled as she bent down to kiss her granddaughter.
“Good morning, Mamma,” repeated Francesca as her mother gave her a kiss.
“Mamma,” she said in a surprised voice, “have you been crying?”
Valentina gestured to her daughter to be discreet in front of Isabella, so Francesca sent Isabella to the kitchen to ask her paternal grandmother to make some tea, so she could be alone with her mother to discuss the issue privately. Whilst out of the room, Valentina’s eyes began to fill up with tears again.
“Mamma, what on earth has happened? Why are you so upset?” she asked in a concerned manner.
“It’s, it’s,” Valentina could not express herself as she became choked with emotion.
She left the room to go to the bathroom in order to compose herself. She was gone about six or seven minutes when she returned in a calmer state of mind. A pot of tea that Margherita had made was lying on the coffee table next to the sofa, in the lounge. The bouquet of flowers that Jean Claude had placed the previous evening was now sitting on the hall table. Isabella was in the kitchen with Margherita so Valentina was able to explain to her daughter, what had happened between her and James before he left for Maggiore; and that the situation had left her in a state of confusion, grief and dismay.
Francesca while listening poured her mother a cup tea. She was silent for a moment then spoke her mind.
“You convinced me when I was in the hospital that he was a kind and caring man, and you were blissfully happy with the friendship you had found in each other, So what has happened to make you so unhappy and upset all of a sudden?”
“I’m really not sure,” replied Valentina. “I know initially he wanted me to travel with him to explore the lakes, but we had an understanding that I couldn’t possibly go under the present circumstances. It was more important to be here for you and Isabella; until you made a full recovery from your operation. He accepted that then suddenly this morning it all changed.”
“Oh Mamma,” retorted Francesca. “Are you sure you really want this man to be a part of your life? It’s all very strange to me,” she continued.
Just then, Isabella ran into the room followed by Margherita who announced that brunch was ready in the kitchen.
Valentina put down her cup and helped Francesca up from the sofa and onto her feet. Her umbilicus area was still very tender from the surgery. They walked slowly to the kitchen where the three ladies and Isabella sat to enjoy a brunch of freshly squeezed orange juice, scrambled eggs and bacon, freshly brewed coffee and toast with delicious lemon marmalade from the Limone region of Lake Garda.
Margherita had left Fifi and Ciao-ciao with her next-door neighbour overnight, therefore was dependent on her son to take her home to see to the dogs once he had finished work at the clinic, later that afternoon. It had been discussed and decided the previous evening that she would move into their Villa temporarily with Fifi and Ciao-ciao until such a time Francesca was back to full health. It was also suggested the dogs would be good company for Isabella too.
When brunch was over, Francesca and Isabella returned to the lounge where Francesca proceeded to read the remainder of the story of ‘The Little Ballerina’. Suddenly, she heard her mother’s cell phone tinkle. Valentina and Margherita remained in the kitchen to do the clearing up. Francesca thought perhaps it was James contacting her mother so she sent Isabella to the kitchen with Valentina’s cell phone.
Valentina’s heart began to race in anticipation it could be a message from James. She didn’t know what to expect.
Had he changed his mind about the way he felt about me? she thought. Or was he merely letting me know that he had arrived in Maggiore?
Checking the text she became more nervous and surprised to find it was not James at all, but Jean Claude, requesting her company to take her to dinner. She felt disappointed and began to tremble. She could not bring herself to reply to his request immediately so instead, she decided to send a text to James asking if he had arrived in Maggiore. There was no reply.
Valentina became anxious, so decided to call him. His cell diverted to answerphone but she was reluctant to leave a message, so she hung up feeling confused and again disappointed. She read the message once more from Jean Claude. It read, “My dear Valentina, I am requesting the pleasure of your company to have dinner with me at your earliest convenience. I await your reply. JC.”
He is very determined and tenacious, she thought. She stood in the kitchen deciding what to do, images of her and James making hot passionate love at the forefront of her mind.
She became frustrated and angry at the fact that she could not get hold of James.
Why is he not answering his phone? she thought. Then she began thinking if he had lied to her about his wife.
Is he really divorced? she questioned. Perhaps he was just looking for some illicit torrid affair, and it was convenient for him to use me? After all, he does have a very high libido. Am I being paranoid? she continued in her thoughts. I must stop this negativity and try to think more positive. Oh, I’m so confused!
In her moment of anger and confusion, Valentina replied to Jean Claude’s text, which read, “Yes, Jean Claude, I will have dinner with you. When?”
Her text was quite abrupt reflecting how she felt about James’s exit and silence towards her, convincing herself it was all over between them, she began to look forward to her dinner date with Jean Claude. She composed herself once again. Head held high, shoulders back she returned to the lounge.
“So, Mamma, I know it’s been a bit chaotic for you the last few days but have you had any thoughts about setting up in business again?” Francesca asked.
“No, but it’s something I ought to be looking at and considering. I haven’t really had the time to look for business property in the right location,” Valentine replied.
Margherita joined in the conversation suggesting that Valentina could work from home, as she had enough space at her villa to accommodate her clients, but Valentina valued her privacy so wanted her business premises to remain separate from where she lived.
At this precise moment, her cell phone tinkled. It was Jean Claude inviting her to dinner at his stately villa in Cadenabbia, on the opposite side of the lake to Bellagio. It could either be reached by ferry or a long drive by car. He arranged their dinner meeting for the coming Saturday, as he knew she would be free from helping out with Francesca; as Antonio would be at home.
It was quite unexpected to Valentina for him to invite her to his villa and not a restaurant.
She had never been there before, nor had Antonio and Francesca for that matter, so she had no idea of what to expect, except she had heard on the grapevine, that it was something quite different.
She excused herself and left the room in order to respond to his text.
She was a little unsure of what to do. Then after several minutes of uncertainty, she texted him back asking about the travel arrangements to his home then back again.
“It’s simple, darling,” he replied. “I will charter a boat and skipper for the evening. You merely have no worries regarding that.” She thought about it for several minutes then replied. Her curiosity getting the better of her.
“Very well,” she agreed. “What are the arrangements?” she asked.
Jean Claude replied to her text immediately.
“Be down at the private boat quay at 7:00 pm. I will be on board to escort you across the lake. I guarantee, Valentina, you will have a splendid evening.” He signed off with a kiss, “X.”
Today was Wednesday so she had three days to prepare herself for her dinner date with Jean Claude. Although quite nervous of the unexpected, she also began to feel excited and began to relax.
It was 4:30 pm when Antonio arrived home from the clinic. Margherita was ready for her journey back home to collect her dogs before returning with Antonio to stay the night.
Whilst they were gone, Valentina got busy in the kitchen preparing their evening meal of warm bread rolls and butter, tuna pasta bake, then a slice of panettone to finish, all washed down with acqua frizzante then a glass of latte macchiato.
They each gave their thank you’s for such a lovely meal, then Valentina announced it was time for her to go home. It was 8:45 pm.
“Take care, Mamma. Please text me when you arrive home so I know you are safe,” Francesca nervously smiled to her mother as they bid each other buona notte.
“Oh sure I will, honey, don’t worry and have an early night,” she replied glimpsing at both Antonio and Margherita as she left the building.
Valentina arrived back at her villa at 9:25 pm. As she put her door key in the lock, her stomach began to churn on reflection of what had happened with James earlier that morning. She felt alone. Attempting to call him once again, she noticed a missed call from Jean Claude. Her cell, as usual, was low on battery, so she quickly texted Francesca to let her know she was safely home, then went to charge her phone.
Kicking off her shoes, she walked to the drinks cabinet to pour herself a nightcap. The sweet martini cocktail went down a treat. She lay on the sofa looking out towards the French doors. It was almost dusk. The clouds looked amazing as hues of red appeared in the evening summer sky. Feeling exhausted she closed her eyes and fell asleep.
It was 3:00 am when Valentina woke up with start. She lay back on the sofa feeling a little disorientated. Consulting her watch to check the time, she gently rose from the sofa and went down to her lonely bed. It was 5:00 am when she suddenly woke from a dream. She could see James standing at the foot of the bed watching her. As she tried to reach out to him, she was suddenly pulled back by an enormous force as if she was being vacuumed away from her clutches towards him. It felt so real. Her heart pounding, she began to shake then broke out in a cold sweat. She threw off the duvet then slowly rose from her bed. Knowing she could no longer sleep, she went to take a shower. Images of her and James making love, still at the forefront of her mind.
The tears began to flow down Valentina’s face as the fragrant smell of escapade shower gel mingled with the water creating a luxurious lather, reminding her of their passionate times they spent together, in the bath and the shower.
“Oh why does this feel like hell?” she questioned herself. “I feel like I’m going crazy again. Why won’t he answer his God damn cell?” she queried.
The sun began to rise in the morning sky; it looked like it was going to be a hot day. Valentina wrapped in her luxurious soft towelling bathrobe, consulted her wardrobe on what to wear for her upcoming dinner date. She chose a black sheer chiffon off-the-shoulder Bardot top, paired with a black and white mid-length skirt that was edged with black lace around the hemline. Barely black stockings and three-inch, ankle-strapped, leather black and white shoes. This helped her to focus on a more positive note, diverting her mind away from James. She began to look forward to Saturday evening and felt an air of excitement in anticipation that Jean Claude would be kind to her, over dinner.
She quickly dressed in preparation for her return to Francesca’s, wearing blue jeans, a casual light cotton pale blue top, and a pair of converse trainers. She then went upstairs to make some coffee. Checking her phone was now fully charged, she suddenly remembered the missed call from Jean Claude. Valentina was not quite sure if she should call him back or not but as he had not left her a voicemail message, she decided to ignore it. She gathered her belongings and headed out to her car for the drive to Francesca’s.
Thursday and Friday were pretty much the same routines as Wednesday. Maria came on Friday to do the cleaning and prepare the evening meal, which was a bit of a gourmet affair to celebrate the beginning of the weekend and the fact that Antonio was home both Saturday and Sunday to look after his wife and spend time with Isabella.
Margherita was also on hand to help at the weekend, taking Isabella with her when she walked the dogs, leaving Antonio and Francesca to have a little time together in private.
Three long days had gone by for Valentina and still no call or text from James. She was baffled! It was now Saturday morning and she felt the compulsion to call him. As she took out her cell to make the call, her phone began to ring. It was Jean Claude.
“Good morning, Valentina. How are you today? Looking forward to our dinner this evening, I hope?” he asked.
There was a slight pause, Valentina was nervous.
“Y-yes, I think so,” she answered with an unsure expression.
Jean Claude gave a little laugh down the phone.
“I’ll be with you at 7:00 pm prompt as planned. I’m so looking forward to seeing you again. Now if you will excuse me, I have preparations to make for this evening. Ciao, bella, a plus tard.” he finished in French.
Valentina’s heart missed a beat as she heard his French accent. She had always found the French language to be somewhat sexy.
Gathering her belongings it was time she went grocery shopping. She collected several shopping bags from the cupboard, then drove down to her local grocery store about three miles away. Knowing that for the next few weeks, whilst dining at Francesca’s, she bought provisions to take with her: of chicken, fresh fruit and vegetables, mozzarella cheese, pasta, rice, minced steak to make Italian meatballs, carbonara sauces and parmesan cheese. Valentina and Margherita were both very good cooks. They would alternate the cooking each evening; both bringing delicious Italian dishes to the table. Valentina would alternate her cooking skills with a few American favourite dishes too, which Isabella found delightful, especially the American pancakes with maple syrup that she made for her granddaughter as a special treat, sometimes served with ice cream, chocolate sauce and blanched almonds.
It was 2:00 pm when Valentina started to get ready for her dinner date with Jean Claude.
She ran her usual luxurious bubble bath pouring in lots of fragrant escapade bath gel to create an abundance of foam. As she lay alone in her bathtub, her mind reverted to the morning her and James shared the exotic experience of bathing together. Although it was only a few days before, it felt like a lifetime away to Valentina. She was still craving his sensual touch, his deep tongue-tying kisses, and his oh-so-powerful lovemaking techniques.
She began to touch her breasts as she thought about his unique body, his sexy smile, then slowly moved down to her vagina where she placed her fingers on her clitoris, just like James had done days before. She suddenly came to her senses and released the plug from the bath, allowing the water to escape, leaving her covered in the bubbles. Taking the shower spray attached to the bath, she gently washed away the foam from her body before climbing out to get dressed. She put on her bathrobe then fixed her hair. Her hair was mid-length, reddish, strawberry-blonde in colour, and slightly curly. She decided she would wear it up for the occasion, which she secured with a black velvet butterfly clip covered in diamante rhinestones.
Back in the bedroom, she applied some makeup. It was only on special occasions that Valentina wore makeup. A generous application of hydrating moisturiser followed by Helena Rubinstein foundation. Next, she worked on her eyes which were one of her best features, or so she had been told by numerous people. She applied kohl eyeliner near to her top lashes and just underneath her bottom lashes. A smidgen of white highlighter shadow on the top eyelids finished with two coats of rich black mascara. Next came the blusher to her cheeks, then finally a coat of natural rose lipstick to her well-defined lips.
She chose white diamante earrings to complement the butterfly clip she wore in her hair then proceeded to dress in the black and white outfit she had chosen earlier that week.
One final look in the mirror and she was all set, all that was needed was her evening bag and shawl.
Chapter 10
The Dinner Date
Valentina arrived in good time down at the quay where she waited for Jean Claude to arrive by boat as planned. The boat arrived five minutes early with a captain and a steward on board. Jean Claude with a beaming smile escorted Valentina on to the boat where they comfortably sat in rich upholstered tan leather seats, in a small cabin below the deck. A table was laden with an ice bucket containing a half bottle of champagne, together with green olives, and little salted biscuits.
“Valentina, you look amazing this evening, allow me to pour you a glass of champagne,” Jean Claude insisted.
“The journey will take 30 minutes across the lake then my chauffeur will be waiting to take us up to my villa,” he continued.
Valentina suddenly felt a little nervous and uncomfortable in the knowledge that she had not mentioned to her daughter she was going to dinner with Jean Claude. She wanted their date to remain private. Taking the flute from his hand, they both clinked glasses and cheered one another.
“To a wonderful evening,” he proposed.
After several sips of the delicious champagne, Valentina began to relax and was looking forward to her evening at his villa. She did not know what to expect and was feeling rather ravenous by now. They both took their last sips of the champagne as the boat approached the harbour. Valentina began to giggle as Jean Claude took her by the hand to escort her off the boat. As promised, his chauffeur was waiting for them as he stood against a large Range Rover, not at all what she was expecting.
The chauffeur greeted the couple with, “Buonasera, signore, signora,” as he opened the door of the car for them to get in. Valentina first, followed by Jean Claude, where they both sat together on the back seat.
The journey to his villa only took ten minutes. It stood on the top of a hill overlooking the lake. A white Bugatti stood outside in the grounds. It was certainly palatial with many rooms. They were greeted in the grand hallway by an attractive female in her 30s who escorted them into a large drawing room, decorated in golds and reds. Jean Claude’s furniture was very traditional. Mainly Italian design but there was evidence of French sculptures and paintings adorning the room. The windows were large from floor to ceiling that had a Georgian or Edwardian style about them, rich velvet red curtains hung from them.
