Runaway Love (5 page)

Chapter Seven

“Genie, che terribile,” Lorenzo said.  “You must tell me what happened.”

A knot started to grow in her throat as the memories of her experience formed in vivid detail.

“It happened the same night I took up residence in your barn.  I was hiding from them.”

“Dove - scusi...where were you attacked?”

“Not far from here.” She pressed her hand to her chest to contain a heart flutter that came with the memories.  Up until now, she had managed to repress them.  The security of Lorenzo’s avalanche-bound farm helped her to keep them at bay. 

Now that the can had been opened, the desire to tell was overwhelming.  She rubbed her hands on her thighs to help her to focus.

“I’ve never been so scared in my life.”

As if that was the trigger she needed, the story spilled out
into the open.  

“I stopped to help someone who was supposed to be injured.  When I got out of my car to see if he was still alive, another man grabbed me from behind.”  She thrust out her hands in a throwing gesture. “He pushed me to the ground.”  

“Were you hurt?”

Genie shook her head.  “I was too frightened to notice at the time.” She raised a flicker of a smile. “I haven’t found any bruises since.  So I mustn’t have been.”

Sighing deeply, she continued.  “The so-called body on the road was very much alive.  He pointed a gun at me and told me to stay where I was while the other man ransacked my car.  That’s where my camera is.  They have it - as well as my money, my passport, credit cards, and anything else of value he could lay his hands on.  He even threw all my clothes on the ground.”

“I didn’t know what to do,” she said, benign forward into a half-foetal position and hugged her arms close to her body. “I thought they were going to kill me.”  She brushed at her eyes as her tear ducts threatened to overflow. 

“Tell me about the men who attacked you.” Lorenzo said.  “What did they look like?”

Genie paused and consulted her memories. “One was built like an all-in wrestler, and the other was quite small.  The small man was the one who frightened me most.” She re-examined him in her mind.  “He didn’t even need his gun to scare me.  Something about him...”

Lorenzo looked thoughtful for a moment and then said, “What happened after that, Genie?”    

Genie’s tears bubbled to the surface.  She rubbed at the wetness around her eyes. “I’m sorry, Lorenzo.  I’m being a proper baby.”

“No.  Do not be sorry.  You were in danger.  Crying is permitted when you have been in danger.”

Genie sniffed and rummaged a tissue from her sleeve to head off one of life’s irritating natural functions that follow the flow of tears.  She dabbed at her nose.

“I didn’t cry then.  How funny.  Only now...

Silence fell, broken only by the crackling of the logs.

“I could see that they wanted my car too,” Genie ventured.  “It’s a Mercedes.  They could’ve got a lot of money for it.”

“Certo.”

“They had everything else,” Genie said.  “I decided they weren’t going to get my car.”  She described how she crawled to her car while the thieves were examining their loot.   “I shut the door as quietly as I could, but they heard it and came running.  I managed to lock and deadbolt the door.  At least they couldn’t get in.”

“They were banged on the windows and tried to wrench the door open.  I was so frightened, I thought the small man was going to shoot through the window.  It isn’t bullet-proof glass.”  She placed her hand on her chest as her breath came in short gasps. 

  Lorenzo moved closer and laid his hand on her arm.  Despite the intensity of her memories, she felt the warmth of his touch dissolve some of her anxiety. 

“I was petrified.”  She stared unseeingly at the flames in the fireplace.  “I managed to drive away.  But they chased me in their car.  She shook her head.  “I’ve never driven so fast in my life.  My mind did funny things then.  I was quite excited.  It was unreal - like I was in a Hollywood movie.  But these headlights in my rear view mirror were real scary.” 

She stopped as the knot of remembered fear intensified in her stomach.  Only the warmth of Lorenzo’s hand on her’s kept her grounded. 

“The ice on the road,” she said.  “It was too much for their car.  They took a corner too fast and did a 360–”

“360
. Che--?”

“A 360 – you know...”  She rotated her finger around in several circles.  “Turned a full circle on the ice.” 

“Ah.  Ho capito.”

She allowed a brief smile.  “Thankfully, my good old faithful Mercedes GL murdered the road.  But for that, I might never have got away.”  She paused and frowned. “The blizzard was just getting started.  That helped too.”

She told Lorenzo how she had rounded a sharp turn in the road.  They had righted their car but were still out of sight.  She found a narrow side road and took it, drove up a few yards and turned off her lights. 

“I saw them speed past and when the sound of their engine was far enough away, I did my own speeding - on up the hill.  Too fast - the blizzard and all.  I drove straight into a ditch.”  She raised a weak smile.  “You know the rest.”

Lorenzo stared at her for several seconds.   “You are safe now.”

She smiled weakly.  “Safe, yes.  Thanks to you - and the avalanche.  But, after the snow melts, my car’s in a ditch and I’m in a hole.  No money.  No Passport.”  She shrugged her shoulders and eyebrows.  “I’m never going to get out of here.”

For a fleeting moment, the idea didn’t seem too bad.

No.  She mustn’t go there.

She must be stronger than that.

She must find a way to leave.

It’s a firm, iron-clad given.

Absolutely.

Chapter Eight

Genie awakened to the warm memory of Lorenzo's concern over her highway robbery episode.  As a result several minutes of reverie passed before she realised the house was silent.  No Lorenzo sounds downstairs.  The sun was just beginning to eat up the darkness, so he must be out and about doing his farming thing.

She rolled out of bed and made the mistake of opening her bedroom door to listen.

Domino fell in.

Having fallen in, he stayed in.

“Buon Giorno, Domino,” she said without enthusiasm. 

He grunted, sat down and rested his chin on the bed.  His big sad brown eyes said, “Don't throw me out.”

Genie melted.  “Just because I needed you to protect me from wolves last night,” she told him, shutting the bedroom door, “doesn't mean you and I are bosom buddies.”

Domino wagged his tail to let her know he didn't think she meant it.

“What time is it anyway?  As far as I can tell, there are no clocks in this house.”  She placed both palms on the bed opposite Domino's head.  “How do you guys tell the time around here?”

Domino blinked.

She sighed heavily. “I manage to keep dogs at bay all my life,” she said, “and I get snowed in with a giant, dewy-eyed, four-legged manipulator who can't tell the time.”

Domino wagged his tail.

“Those eyes...you sure know how to use them.”  She turned away.  “I'm going to have a shower.”

Domino lumbered to his feet and rounded the bed to follow her. 

“Oh no you don't,” she said, making shooing motions with her hands.  “There's no way you're going to watch me take a shower, even if you are a dog.  And that goes double since you're a 'he' dog...and I'm talking to a dog again.”

As she closed the door, his sad eyes wrenched at her heart. 

Morning ablutions complete, she quickly prepared and bolted down her breakfast.  Then she threw on as much protection from the Alpine winter as she could and ventured with Domino out into the snow.  

It took a moment or two for her eyes to adjust to the glaring light, boosted by the snow-covered landscape.  Once her brain had calibrated the optimum dilation of her iris, Genie focus shifted to her ears.  She suddenly realized how quiet it was.  

The silence hadn't registered the previous day.  And she certainly hadn't noticed it on that first night.  Then nothing had been silent.  The roar of the snowstorm had beaten the ambient silence into submission.

She stood still, closed her eyes and absorbed the silence.  It was almost palpable.  Eerie, almost.  Only the virtually imperceptible whisper of the breeze wafted into her ears as it weaved its way among the distant
trees.  Even then, Genie wasn't sure if she was imagining it. 

She also expected to hear sounds rising out of San Rafael in the valley below.  Shouts from the skiers.  Music.   Something.

Nothing.

“I'm not sure I could get used to this quiet,” she told Domino. 

“Woof,” Domino responded and wagged his tail.

No people babble.  No traffic roar.  No music.  And that smell.  There isn't one.  Not even a farm smell.  The air's so clean it was almost obscene.

“This peaceful, up-town Lorenzo-ville is okay,” she said “But, give me the bustling, noisy, polluted city anytime.”

Genie traced her line of vision along the wire fence separating Lorenzo's hideaway from the silent wilderness beyond.  Other than the sections obscured by buildings, she could turn 360 degrees and keep the fence in sight.  “This is one small farm,” she said, shielding her eyes and scanning the land around her.  “All right for one man to manage, I suppose.”

His greenhouse loomed large in her vision.  It was a major contribution to his self-sufficient lifestyle.  A huge glass, edifice, extending from the house as the long stroke of the letter 'L' for some ten meters.  Genie guessed it would be full of a wide range of vegetables.  “For sure, he wouldn't be growing flowers in there.”

At the moment, the snow made every part of Lorenzo's land looked like every other part.   She took to guessing the purpose of various sections.  She saw a large area beyond the greenhouse which looked like a garden.   Most likely it was used for growing vegetables during the warmer seasons.  Next to his garden, fenced off, was a section shaped like a giant orange segment.  Genie guessed it was a field.  No doubt it was reserved for the cows to use and graze when the snow disappeared.

“Okay, now I know all about the farm,” she said. “I'm going to find your Dad, Domino.  You do what you want.”

Domino woofed and sprang to her side. 

“Am I ever going to be able to do something on my own in this place?”

She encountered Lorenzo in the barn.

“So, you are awake at last,” he said.

“All this fresh mountain air - it's getting to me.  It got me up and out full of beans this morning – very unusual for me.  And I've no idea what time it is.  Those thieves took my watch.”

Lorenzo peered at the open doorway.  “The sun tells me it's about six.”

“Six?” In the morning?”

“Si.”

That's much too early to start the day.”

His face took on an expression of amusement.  “On a farm, six of the clock means the day is half gone.”

“For this city girl, six in the morning is too close to midnight to call it daytime.”

“No doubt.”  His grin lurched her insides into that funny jig his smiles were wont to set in motion.  “But, now you are here - and you are just in time.”

“For what?”

“Have you ever milked a cow?”

“Not the sort of thing one does in the city,” Genie said. “We get ours delivered in bottles.”

“Delivered in bottles?” He leaned the broom he had been using against the wall and crossed over to Genie wearing a huge grin.  “Just like you, Genie with a G.”

She laughed.  “Ye-es.  But our milkman had nothing to do with it.”

“Come,” he said, taking her arm.  “See how milk gets into your bottles.  You are about to milk your first cow.”

Electric charges flickered up her arm from the warm contact with Lorenzo's hand.   His grip drew their bodies close.  Genie basked in his warmth and earthy smell.   It was a farm smell.   But she didn't mind.  After all, it was Lorenzo's working aroma.

“I'm not sure this is a good idea, Lorenzo,” she said. “I wouldn't want to damage one of your cows.”

“I'm sure you'll do very well.  You might even like it.”

“Don't bet on it.  I'm not going to have to wear a funny hat, am I?”

“Funny hat?”

“Never mind.  A private joke.”

“What funny hat?”

“Let it go, Lorenzo.  It's a private joke between me and me.”

“Sometimes, English humour - it is difficult.”

“That's me.  Difficult.”

“If we are not to talk about funny hats, then, I have something important to tell you.”

“Go...on...”

“You will be happy to know that your car is safe.”

“Really?” She slapped both hands on her sternum, one on top of the other.  “Is that true?”

“Vero.  After you went to bed last night, I telephoned Federico, a friend of mine.  He has a Garage.  This morning he told me he found your car and took it to his garage.”

“Oh, Lorenzo, thank you so much.”  It was as much as she could do to stop from rushing Lorenzo and planting a shower of kisses on him in gratitude.  Gratitude?  Never mind gratitude.  Seeing the pleasure glowing on his face at her pleasure, kissing him for any reason, any time, would have been pure joy. 

She made a mental sigh.  Cool it, Hamilton.  Keep your distance.

But, he was one very kissable man.

“He will repair it for you.”

“That's wonderful news.  My car...  Wonderful.  Thank you so much, Lorenzo,”

“Niente.  Now I want you to meet someone.” He led her to the first stall that housed one of his cows.   “Genie, meet Gloria,” he said.  “Gloria, this is Genie.”

“Hello Gloria,” Genie said. “What's the other one called?”

“Beatrice.”

“Beatrice?”  She flicked her eyebrows.  “Nice,” she said flatly. “And is Beatrice finished with?  All her milk gone?”

He nodded.  “All gone.  I asked Gloria to wait for you.”

“How very kind of you.”

“Un altra cosa importante,” he said.

“Is this other important thing to do with cows or cars?” 

“No.  I called another friend of mine.  Commissario Testa of the police.  I told him about your robbery.”

“You did?”  Genie turned to face him.  A glimmer of hope fizzled out almost as quickly as it was born.  Almost certainly they would have got rid of her stuff by now.  Spent her money too.  Nevertheless, hope is nice to have. “What did he say?”

“He knows who your robbers are.  He will find them.”

“It would be great if he did,” Genie said.  Well at least, they'd get their comeuppance.   She allowed her gaze to linger on Lorenzo.  This man.  She was here uninvited.  He was lumbered with her.  And yet, he's gone out of his way to help her.  “I really am running out of 'thank you's', Lorenzo.  I have no idea how I can repay you.”

He shrugged and shifted his feet. “Nothing,” he said.  Then his mouth stretched in a wide, mischievous smile.  “If you feel like repaying, you can milk Gloria.”

Genie laughed.  “You do want your pound of flesh, don't you, Lorenzo Calderone.”

“No, only a bucket of fresh milk.”  

He then explained how important it was to milk the cow twice a day, preferably at the same times.  “Today, Gloria is late.  So we must start right away.”  He showed her how she should sit on the same side of the cow so Gloria feels more comfortable.

Genie felt a bit of a fool sitting on the low milking stool.  It was like trying to get comfortable on a child's chair. “Gloria looks very big from down here,” she said.  “She isn't into kicking trainee milkmaids, is she?”

He laughed.  “No.  She's quite gentle and she wants to be milked.”  He indicated her udder.   “As you can see, she's very full.  It'll be a great relief to her.”

“Mmm,” Genie said uncertainly.  “I presume I'm going to have to take these off,” she said, holding up her gloved hands.

  He nodded and while she pulled off her gloves, he said, “First, you need to get acquainted with each other.” 

“Oh yeah.  And just how do we do that?  I thought we'd already been introduced.”

He settled an impish expression in place. “Rest your head here.”   He patted Gloria's flank.

Genie looked up at him with narrowed eyes.  “Are you serious?”

“Assolutamente.”  He patted Gloria's rump again and nodded at Genie.

She shook her head, then leaned forward and tentatively placed her forehead on Gloria.  The cow felt hot to the touch and smelled very cow-like.

Lorenzo turned to leave.

“Don't leave me like this,” Genie said, panic rising in her chest.  She pulled her head back and made a futile grab at Lorenzo's leg.

“I'm not leaving you,” he said. “Wait.”

“Wait?  What for - the milk to spurt out all by itself?”

Lorenzo returned with two spectacularly clean stainless steel buckets.  One was empty; the other contained some warm water.   He handed the water-filled bucket and a soft cloth to Gloria.  “Warm your hands and then give Gloria's udder a gentle wash.  

Genie did as she was instructed.  “I've never washed anyone before...besides me, that is,” she said.   “It's making me feel...maternal.” 

Udder washed, Genie dropped the cloth into the water.  “Now what, Teacher?”

He took the full bucket from her, gave her the empty one and instructed her to place it directly under Gloria's udder. “Now, hold one of the teats in your palm.”

She looked at the closest one and hesitated.  “This is something that will have to be written down in the history of the Hamiltons,” she said.

“That's your family name?” Lorenzo asked.  “'Amilton?”

Genie squeezed her eyes closed for a few seconds in despair.  How could she be so stupid - letting the cat out of the bag like that? “That's right,” she said, trying to make her tone sound matter-of-fact.  She placed her forehead against Gloria's flank again and gingerly reached for one of her teats.

“When you are ready, squeeze the teat at the top between your thumb and forefinger.”

“Oooh,” Genie said as milk jetted out and made a wet rattling sound in the bucket.   “It works.”

Lorenzo laughed.  “Now squeeze all the way down until there is no more teat.”

“Like this?”

“Molto bene, Signorina 'Amilton.”

Genie laughed, distracted by his pronunciation.  “No, Lorenzo,” she said, heartened by the fact that Lorenzo did not seem to make any connections the name. “Not 'Amilton.  It's Hhhhamilton.”