The second kid had come into view and Matthew was ready to catch it. He steeled himself, then allowed his instincts to take over. Moments later, he delivered the little white kid to Beatrice, who immediately set about tending to it.
Matthew exhaled in relief. ‘That was a rush.’
‘You were great. She’s fine, and she has another healthy baby.’
Beatrice went on to deliver two more kids, bringing the herd of goats at Convento delle Viole to six.
When Angelo returned from his errands a few hours later, he was both delighted and surprised that Sarah was able to command the situation with such confidence and success. He gave the kids and Beatrice a check-over, and was happy that they were doing so well.
‘Is there anything Sarah can’t do?’ he asked Matthew in a whisper as they walked back towards the kitchen.
Watching her a few paces ahead of them, Matthew answered. ‘I don’t believe so.’
Later that afternoon, Matthew was helping Sarah stock the shelves of theDispensa delle Viole. She had designed and ordered her own labels and tags and, with the help of one of Petunia’s men, had refitted the space with shelving either side, a fresh bread display under the window which overlooked the rear courtyard, and a long hanging rack overhead made from the skeleton of a dead olive tree they had found at the bottom corner of the grove.
She and Angelo had been working hard to stock theDispensaover the past weeks in the lead-up to opening day.
Matthew helped Sarah, passing her the jars and bottles from the storage crates. Out came preserved lemons, pickled cucumbers, strawberry jam, blueberry jam, tomatopassata, pickled garlic, their early crop of zucchinis preserved under extra virgin olive oil with garlic and dried oregano and an early batch of sundried tomatoes.
They arranged the signs and price tags, and Sarah finished styling the space just as it had appeared in her imagination almost three months earlier. Matthew helped her bundle twigs with earthy brown twine which she arranged in small piles under the lower shelves. He offered his index finger in support of her tying bunches of rosemary, thyme and oregano, which they let hang from the overhead rack. Over the weeks to come, they would dry and be available for purchase.
The final flourish was a small vase of violets, which Sarah sat on a reclaimed wooden pedestal she had purchased from Riccardo’s collection of vintage furniture. She set it up in the far corner by the bread display, adding a little pile of business cards for theDispensa delle Viole. All that was missing were the sourdough loaves that she would bake in the morning, which were proving on the kitchen bench.
TheDispensa delle Violewas finally ready to open its doors.
Walking back to the kitchen for the clean-up, Matthew asked, ‘How did you go with the produce orders?’
‘All done. They will arrive at six o’clock on the dot on the allocated mornings. I called to confirm today.Again. That guy must think I’m the most annoying customer ever.’
‘No. It’s important. We are going to rely on that weekly drop. It’s going to save us time and trouble in the long-run. Could he guarantee it all?’
‘The staples, yes. Pantry things, flour, butter, yoghurt, some fruit and veggies. The one-off special goods – the San Daniele prosciutto, wheel of the Parmigiano Reggiano, the bags of coffee, the olive oil – will all come with tomorrow’s order. We can just order those as we need, and he will add them to the staple order.’
‘Excellent.’ Matthew cleared some room by the trough so he could start washing dishes.
‘I also future dated orders on seasonal things. He’s going to get us cheeses, particular olives, some smallgoods, fresh meats and some chocolate as they come to hand.’
‘So he’s fully paid now?’
‘Done. Settled. For the entire six months we’re open.’
Matthew fixed the plug into the sinkhole and turned on the tap. ‘One less thing to worry about. What else is on the list for today?’
Sarah scrolled through her phone. ‘Linen. I need to go dress all the beds and stock the bathrooms.’
‘I’m happy to deal with this mess. Go, and I’ll join you soon.’
Sarah took off to gather what she needed, and Matthew’s hands dropped into the sudsy warm water. Looking out over the rear courtyard he was suddenly overwhelmed with pride.
Everything had finally found a place. Riccardo’s furniture had been delivered, and as Sarah promised it would, it set just the right atmosphere of rustic old-world charm and modern convenience. Sarah’s styling had been impeccable throughout. It was unimposing and humble. The chequered charcoal and white tiled bathroom floors, the brass fixtures, not to mention the bedding, were all chosen for their roots and origins in the surrounding lands. The linen sails had been mounted to the ceiling in the main hall, and the way they danced with even the slightest kiss of breeze was a sight to behold. The elements sang together like an impeccably timed chorus. The gardens were lush and vibrant, and the open spaces were bursting with the property’s trademark wild violets. Just as Angelo had promised. Convento delle Viole looked and felt just as Sarah wanted it to – as if it were timeless.
Petunia and her team had come through on budget and, despite her rough-around-the-edges approach, had proven to be the perfect match for Matthew and Sarah’s renovation.
Convento delle Viole – La Viola, for convenience – had truly been brought back to life.
Matthew sighed to himself, recalling the three months of tireless hard work. While it was Sarah’s styling that completely transformed La Viola, it was Matthew who had set up all the back-end infrastructure: the website, social media pages, listings on all the major booking sites. It was all done and they already had bookings across the six months.
With guests due to arrive the following morning, Matthew took a moment to enjoy the quiet of La Viola. With only the faint bleating from the stables now discernible from the open kitchen door, he knew that the peace and quiet wouldn’t last long.
