The Skye Collection, page 43
She’d spent so long avoiding risks of any kind that a surge of courage led her to reply, ‘Oh, go on then. That’d be lovely.’
‘Really? Great. Come on in.’ He hit a button on the wall and the gate opened wide.
With a little trepidation, she followed him to the terrace and took the seat closest to the gate and Nero promptly jumped into her lap.
‘To be honest, you’re the first English-speaking person I’ve encountered since I arrived a few days ago. I’ve been feeling quite lonely,’ she admitted.
He smiled. ‘Huh, and here I was thinking I’d hooked you with my charm and wit.’
She laughed. ‘Nope. Just the English thing.’ He was easy to talk to and she began to relax.
He reached out to pet Nero. ‘And who’s this cute little fella?’
Nero snarled and snapped, thankfully missing Clark’s hands, and Ruby gasped.
‘Nero! That’s not nice. Gosh I’m really sorry about that. He’s usually so sweet.’
Clark frowned and examined his fingers. ‘No, it’s fine. I should’ve known better than to try and pet him when he doesn’t know me. And Nero, huh? That’s a big name for a little dog.’ He smiled awkwardly. ‘I’ll go make the coffee.’ He disappeared into the house and Ruby turned Nero to face her.
She narrowed her eyes. ‘You can’t behave like that, you know. That’s not how we make friends.’ The dog licked her nose and wagged his tail, and she took it as an apology. ‘Ugh, it’s a good thing you’re so flipping cute.’ She placed him back in her lap and he curled up, nuzzled into her.
Clark returned a few moments later with a cafetière and two mugs. Nero grumbled and Clark chuckled. ‘Let me have the first mouthful, and then you and your dog know you’re safe.’ He grinned and she wondered if he watched a lot of crime drama on TV.
‘Deal,’ she replied.
‘So, what do you do back in England?’ Clark asked after he’d taken a good long gulp of his coffee.
‘Oh… I don’t… I mean I’m… in administration.’ Yep, she hadn’t thought this through at all. ‘For the government,’ she added with a nod as if that would be more believable.
His eyes widened. ‘Oh wow. I’m just in retail.’
‘What kind of retail?’
‘Records. I own a good old-fashioned vinyl shop in New Jersey.’
‘Oh! Really? I might have…’ She clamped her mouth shut. ‘That is, my friends might have visited your shop. I have friends in New York.’
‘Really? Small world, huh?’
‘Sure is.’ She took a sip of the coffee. It was incredibly strong, and she had to fight the urge to shudder. She was definitely more of a tea drinker.
‘Has anyone ever told you, you bear a striking resemblance to that actress? Oh god, what’s her name…’ He clicked his fingers together and Ruby fidgeted in her seat, panic rising inside her.
Nero must have sensed her fear as he woke with a start and growled again. She stroked his fur in long, slow motions in the hope that it would calm both her and the dog. As soon as Clark said her name she would bolt, she decided. She stared at him and hoped the horror she was feeling wasn’t obvious in her expression.
Clark drummed his fingers in frustration. ‘You know, the one with the long blonde hair, very prim and proper. She’s British too.’ He tapped his forehead. ‘Jeez, I’m sorry, movies really aren’t my thing… Wait a minute! Got it! Kate Winslet! Titanic. Bingo.’ He held his fists in the air as if he was going to shout ‘eureka’ and Nero let out a yip that made him jump. He side eyed the dog and added, ‘You really do look like Kate Winslet, only as a brunette, obviously.’
Relief flooded Ruby’s veins and she almost collapsed back into her chair. She scrunched her face and scratched her head. ‘Really? Do you think? No one has ever said so before,’ she lied.
‘Meh, maybe it’s just me.’ He shrugged. ‘Like I said, music is more my bag.’
Eager to change the subject, she asked, ‘So are your wife and kids here with you?’
He shook his head and for a moment seemed a little sad. ‘No, I have neither. You’d think at thirty-eight I’d have both, but I guess the store and caring for my folks has taken all my time.’
‘Oh, come on, you have plenty of time if that’s what you want from life.’
He smiled. ‘Got to meet the right woman first.’
Oh god, this is getting a little too deep. She cleared her throat. ‘So, who is your favourite band? And if you say Led Zeppelin, I may have to leave.’
He grinned and shook his head. ‘You dare to dis Led Zep, huh? Wow. Brave woman.’
‘Yeah, well, when you’ve grown up with a dad who’s obsessed with Jimmy Page, their music gets a little old, if you know what I mean.’
He tilted his head, eyeing her with apparent intrigue. ‘Okay then, who do you like?’ he asked, folding his arms across his chest.
She raised her eyebrows. ‘I asked first.’ She giggled and took another sip of the dark liquid.
‘Okay, so I love Motown. Stevie Wonder especially. In my opinion, he’s the greatest singer songwriter to have ever lived. But I love most genres, to be honest. I just love music. Not too keen on jazz though.’
She was quite impressed. ‘Yes! I love Stevie Wonder too. My favourite song has to be “Superstition”. It’s got such a good dance groove. And the lyrics are quite apt just now.’
There was that head tilt again. ‘How so?’
Realising she’d said too much, she waved a dismissive hand. ‘Ugh, long laborious story for another time maybe. Ooh, I also love “I Believe”. It was on the soundtrack to my favourite John Cusack movie and I’ve adored it ever since.’
His smile widened and his eyes twinkled, even though the day was dull and drizzly. ‘Wow, a woman after my own heart. I’m not much of a cinema buff, but High Fidelity is one of my all-time favourites too. Probably because it’s mainly about music. I had to admit to having you pegged as more of a rock ballads type. You know, Whitesnake, Kiss, Bon Jovi. Maybe it’s the hair.’
She laughed and flicked her hair over her shoulder. ‘Yeah, Paul Stanley, eat your heart out. Seriously though, I love most music too. Although, actually, I’m not too keen on screechy heavy metal and the builder who’s working on the house I’m staying in plays it way too loud. He sings too. Loudly.’ She rolled her eyes.
‘Jeez, that must drive you crazy. Can’t you tell him to pipe down?’
She pursed her lips. ‘Not really. He works for the owner.’
‘Shame. Look, why don’t I go and put on some Stevie? There are speakers mounted in the exterior walls.’
Ruby was impressed. ‘Your parents must have been very modern.’
He cleared his throat. ‘Nah, I only installed them when I inherited the place.’ He disappeared inside and a few moments later the opening bars to ‘Superstition’ began to play. As Ruby sat back and listened to the song’s lyrics, a particular line grabbed her. She sincerely hoped the good things weren’t only in her past.
11
Ruby heard a commotion outside of Clark’s gates and she glanced at her phone screen. What was supposed to have been a brief walk had turned into four hours of sitting under the covered terrace, drinking coffee as the rain poured down outside. They had talked about music, TV shows, books and whatever other subjects Ruby could mindfully address without fear of highlighting who she was.
She saw Jacopo run by, talking on his mobile phone. Nero jumped from her lap and began to bark excitedly and she gasped. ‘Shit.’
Clark glanced over his shoulder. ‘What? Is everything okay?’
‘Oh… erm… yes, fine, sorry. I just realised what the time is. I should really be going.’
He nodded and she thought she saw a flash of disappointment. ‘Look, Rebecca, I know we’ve only just met, but I’ve really enjoyed this afternoon and I’d love to do it again sometime. Like you, I’m here alone and if you’re going to be here a while it’d be nice to have someone to talk to.’ He shrugged and lowered his head as if he was expecting her to shoot him down.
‘That would be lovely, Clark. Perhaps you could give me your number?’
He beamed at her. ‘Absolutely.’ He reeled off the digits and Ruby added the details into her phone.
She stood and gathered up Nero’s lead. ‘Right, I really must dash. Thanks for the coffee and chat. It’s been lovely.’ She jogged out of the garden and up the road towards the house in the pouring rain with Nero. By the time she reached the gate, she was soaked to the skin and freezing cold. Luca was pacing back and forth just inside the gate. Shit, both of them are here. He looked up and as soon as he set his eyes on her, they widened, and he dashed for the button to open the gate.
Luca placed a hand on each of her arms and examined her before leading her towards the house. ‘Merda! Grazie a Dio. Eravamo così preoccupati. Pensavamo che fossi stato rapito! Gesù. Pazza pazza!’ He bombarded her with words she couldn’t understand, although from his tone and demeanour she could tell he was angry with her.
‘I’m so sorry! I know you must be upset with me. I didn’t mean to be out so long.’ She pleaded with her eyes and hoped he understood her apology.
Jacopo appeared. He was red-faced from running and the furrow in his brow was so deep it could’ve easily been filled with concrete. Nero jumped up at his owner and Jacopo crouched to pick up the dog. ‘Merda, Ruby! We are terrified! Where the hell have you gone all this time? Valerie is trying to call you. You should not leave without saying to us. Don’t do this!’ he shouted. ‘And I think Nerone is stolen.’
She held up her hands, guilt niggling at her more for the dog than anything else. ‘I’m sorry, okay? I just wanted to take him for a walk! I was stir-crazy and I’ve seen nothing of the island since I arrived. I just wanted to walk. I really am sorry. But Nero is fine, aren’t you lad?’
Luca stepped forward and addressed Jacopo. ‘Cosa ha detto?’
Jacopo’s expression softened and he sighed. ‘Dice che voleva vedere l’isola e fare una passeggiata.’
Luca shook his head. ‘Fanculo.’
Jacopo took a deep breath. ‘Please, Miss Ruby, stay in the place, okay? We are responsible. Out there,’ he pointed towards the gate, ‘you are not quite safe, okay?’
Reluctantly, Ruby nodded, feeling like a chastised child. ‘I really am sorry.’
Jacopo smiled. ‘Nerone says he like his walk with you.’
Ruby grinned and reached out to fuss the little dog. ‘Aww, I liked it too, Nero.’
Luca stared at them with a crumpled brow and shook his head. ‘Pazza donna inglese.’
Jacopo threw him an annoyed look and then addressed Ruby again. ‘He says he is very sorry for shouting.’
She had a feeling that’s not at all what Luca had said. ‘Okay, thanks. Well, I’m going inside. Is the builder still here?’
Jacopo looked confused. ‘Builder?’
Ruby rolled her eyes and thought back to the note she had left for the ungrateful oaf. ‘Construttore? Working on the house?’
For a moment it didn’t appear her words had done much to resolve his confusion. But then it was as if a light bulb had been switched on. ‘Ah, Miceli. He is in the house.’
Jacopo, the dark horse, could apparently speak more English than he had first let on. And whilst it wasn’t perfect, it was a damn sight better than her Italian. Although she had no clue what a Miceli was, but she certainly wasn’t going to make herself look even sillier under the circumstances, by asking.
‘Thank you. Goodbye.’ She turned and walked into the house, closing the door behind her.
She didn’t bother looking to see where the builder was; instead, she grabbed a chunk of bread, some grapes and some cheese from the kitchen and retreated to her room. Despite pissing off the guards, she’d enjoyed her little wander outside the grounds, but all it had done was make her want to see more of the island. She flicked through the songs she had downloaded to her phone before her trip and hit play on a Stevie Wonder playlist. A smile danced on her lips as she devoured her bedroom picnic and texted Valerie to apologise for going AWOL.
Ruby was awoken sharply from slumber by a bright flash that lit up the room like the midday sun. She sat bolt upright, and in her confused state, panic set in and her eyes darted around the room looking for the paparazzo that had infiltrated her safe space. She remembered where she was, flicked on her bedside lamp and picked up her phone to check the time. Three o’clock in the morning.
When the flash came again and was quickly followed by an earth-shaking rumble of thunder, she was relieved to realise she was in the midst of the storm that had been threatening for the past two days. She switched off the light, snuggled back down in her bed and lay there, listening to the squall outside, thankful that she was warm and toasty.
She was dozing off again when an even louder, closer-sounding crash accompanied an even more intense flash of dazzling light and she let out a scream.
‘What the hell?’ The whole house shook, and she felt sure it wasn’t just the thunder that had caused it.
She clambered out of bed, grabbed a hoodie and tugged it on as she left the bedroom and ran down the hallway towards the noise. Someone had put the lights on, but they were flickering, rendering the scene something akin to a horror movie. She immediately regretted her decision to run towards the cacophony and was about to turn around.
‘Ahh shit! Why now? You stupid, stupid arse, Mitch! Jesus wept; it was my next bloody job!’ The shouting and swearing was in a distinct, strong Scottish accent and Ruby panicked that an intruder had broken in. Then she reasoned that perhaps the property owner had arrived when she’d been sleeping. Although she’d had no warning that he was coming.
She tiptoed slowly forwards and poked her head around the corner to the covered terrace and saw the hole in the roof. The chimney stack had been struck by lightning and it, along with lots of rubble and bricks, was scattered across the floor. In the midst of it all, staring up at the hole was the Italian builder with his back towards her. No sign of the Scottish owner. Very confusing.
‘How the hell do I sort this out?’ a Scottish voice said from somewhere as the builder ran his hands through his hair and then covered his face and shook his head. ‘Talk about shitty bloody timing.’ This time the Scottish voice was muffled when it spoke, and she glanced around to find out where this intruder or interloper was hiding.
Jacopo appeared out of nowhere and began to speak to the builder in Italian. The security guard was given instructions and ran to another room, returning seconds later with buckets which he began to fill with rubble. Where the hell was the Scot hiding?
Just then the Italian builder turned and saw her. ‘Oh great, just what I need. Mrs Bloody Bossy Britches actress coming to tell me how selfish I am for letting the damn roof fall in, no doubt,’ he said… but not in Italian… in English… with a distinct and strong Scottish accent.
She was tired for sure, but confusion clouded her mind. So, he’s the Scot I heard? Nothing was adding up.
Indignant, she stepped towards him and opened her mouth to speak but clamped it shut, unsure what the hell was going on. Perhaps she was dreaming, and in her mind she was getting the builder and the Scottish owner of the house mixed up? She pinched her arm. Nope… I’m awake.
He glared at her. ‘Aye, you’ve figure it out, eh? I’m not Italian after all. Even though you just presumed I was. Now, are you going to just stand there or are you going to go back to your room where you’re safe and out of ma way?’ he asked, rather too snottily for Ruby’s liking. His angry demeanour was exacerbated as another flash of lightning highlighted his scowl.
The thunder crashed again, and Ruby physically jumped forward with the shock, landing only an inch away from the builder. She felt utterly ridiculous, like some damsel in need of rescue by a big, strong man. But she was none of the above and never had been. She couldn’t help watching him as he watched her. His breathing was ragged as he stared down at her, his hair glistening where the rain had ingressed and soaked him.
She felt a little breathless and unsettled to say the least. ‘S-so, you’re the owner not the builder,’ she stuttered, then immediately felt stupid as she had stated what was evidently obvious to everyone else.
He angled his head to one side but was still a little too close for comfort. ‘The penny’s dropped finally. I thought maybe the whores and dolphins had addled your brain with all that moaning.’ She saw the hint of a smirk grace his lips.
She scrunched her brow, not a clue what the hell he was waffling on about but put it down to the shock of the damage. She stepped back and wrapped her hoodie around her, suddenly very conscious of the effect the cold was having on certain parts of her body – at least she told herself it was the cold. Annoyance niggled where the confusion had once been. ‘Hang on, why didn’t you correct me when I thought you were Italian?’
He cringed. ‘Look, I was just messing with you.’ He shrugged. ‘It was entertaining watching you trying to speak “my language”. I’m sorry. Can we start over? Although maybe not right now, eh?’
She wasn’t sure whether to be amused or even more peeved at the man, however, she realised there was a more pressing issue at hand. ‘Okay… fine. Can I help at all?’
He shook his head and kicked at the rubble. ‘Na. Nothing I can do till the storm passes. Me and Jaco will go up and put a tarp over the bloody hole,’ he said through gritted teeth. ‘Go back to bed, eh?’ He looked so despondent and Ruby felt a pang of pity for him.
She tucked her hands inside the sleeves of her hoodie as the chill of the open air nibbled at her skin. ‘Can I maybe make you a hot drink for when you come down? You’ll be freezing.’
He turned to her again. ‘Thanks, but I have no idea how long we’ll be. Just go back to bed. No point us all freezing our bits off.’
She sloped off to bed and once again pulled the covers over her head. The storm raged on for hours and only when things went a little quiet did she tiptoe out of her room to find the hole had been covered and the men were gone.
