Almost Dead

“You two are so well organized,” Cassie said admiringly. “You’re really clever at looking after yourselves. Can I get you anything to put on the toast? What do you usually have? Jam, cheese, peanut butter?”

Cassie wasn’t sure what was in the house, but guessed these staples must be available.

“I like plain toast with butter,” Nina said.

Cassie assumed that Venetia would agree with her sister. But the younger girl looked at her with interest, as if considering her suggestions. Then she said, “Jam, please.”

“Jam? No problem.”

Cassie opened cupboards until she found the one with the spreads. They were on a high shelf—too high for the children to reach.

“There’s strawberry jam and fig jam. Which do you want? Or else there’s Nutella.”

“Strawberry, please,” Venetia said politely.

“We are not allowed the Nutella,” Nina explained. “It is only for special occasions.”

Cassie nodded. “That makes sense, since it’s so delicious.”

She passed the jam to Venetia and sat down.

“What are you girls doing this morning? You look all ready for school. Must I take you there? What time does it start and do you know where to go?”

Nina finished her mouthful of toast.

“School starts at eight, and today we finish at two-thirty as we have a singing lesson. But we have a driver, Giuseppe, who takes and fetches us.”

“Oh.”

Cassie couldn’t hide her surprise. This setup was far more organized than she had expected. She felt as if her role was redundant and she worried that Ms. Rossi would realize she could do without her, and might not require her for the full three-month assignment. She needed to make herself useful. Hopefully when the children came back from school they would have homework that she could help them with.

Mulling over her strategy, Cassie got up to make herself some coffee.

When she turned around, she saw that the girls had finished their breakfast.

Nina was stacking the plates and glasses into the dishwasher, and Venetia had pulled one of the kitchen stools over to the cupboard. As Cassie watched, she climbed onto it, and reached as high as she could to put the jam back where it had come from.

“Don’t worry. I’ll do that.”

Venetia looked wobbly on the stool and Cassie hurried over, foreseeing that this could end in disaster.

“I will do it.”

Venetia clung to the jam jar tightly, refusing to let Cassie take it from her.

“It’s no problem, Venetia. I’m taller.”

“I need to do this.” The younger girl sounded intense. More than that, she seemed desperate to do it herself.

On her tippy toes, with Cassie anxiously hovering behind her ready to grab her if the chair fell over, Venetia replaced the jam, pushing it carefully back into the exact spot where it had been before.

“Well done,” Cassie praised her.

She guessed this fierce independence must be part of the girl’s character and upbringing. It seemed unusual, but then she’d never worked for a high-caliber family like this before.

She stood and watched while Venetia maneuvered the stool back into its precise position. By then, Nina had put the butter back in the fridge and the bread in the bin. The kitchen looked immaculate, as if breakfast had never been eaten there at all.

“Giuseppe will be here soon,” Nina reminded her sister. “We must clean our teeth.”

They left the kitchen and headed upstairs to their rooms, with Cassie watching in amazement. Five minutes later they returned, carrying their school bags and coats, and headed outside.

Cassie followed them out, with thoughts of security still uppermost in her mind, but a white Mercedes was already driving toward the house. A few moments later, it stopped in the circular driveway, and the girls climbed in.

“Goodbye,” Cassie called, waving, but they couldn’t have heard her, because neither child did so much as wave in response.

When Cassie went back inside, she found that Ms. Rossi and Maurice had also left. No other household staff seemed to be on duty at that time.

Cassie was entirely alone.

“This is not what I expected,” she said to herself.

The house was very quiet and being here alone felt unsettling. She’d assumed that she’d have far more to do, and much more involvement with the children. This whole setup felt weird, as if they genuinely didn’t need her at all.

She reassured herself that it was early days, and she should be thankful for some time on her own. Probably this was the calm before the storm, and when the children got back home she’d be run off her feet.

Cassie decided she would use the time to follow up on the lead she had received yesterday. The unexpected free morning she was enjoying now might be her only chance to find out where Jacqui was.

She didn’t have much. The name of a town was not a lot.

But it was all she had and she was determined that it would be enough.

*

Using the household’s Wi-Fi, Cassie spent an hour getting to know the town where Jacqui lived—or at any rate, where she’d told Tim the barman that she’d been living, a few weeks ago.

In her favor was the fact that Bellagio was a small town, not an enormous place. A small town meant fewer hostels and hotels, and there was also a better chance of people knowing each other’s business, and that a beautiful American woman might be remembered.

Another advantage was that it was a tourist destination—a scenic place bordering Lake Como that offered dramatic views, as well as numerous shops and restaurants.

As she researched, she imagined what it must be like to live in that town. Quiet, scenic, bustling with tourists in the peak of summer. She imagined Jacqui staying in one of the small hotels or rental apartments—probably a small place, overlooking a cobbled street, accessible from a steep stone staircase, with a window box filled with colorful flowers.

It took two hours before Cassie had properly familiarized herself with the place, and made a comprehensive list of the lodges and backpacker hostels, the numerous Airbnbs, and the rental agencies that let out apartments. She knew there were probably a few places she’d missed, but she hoped that the odds would be in her favor.

Then it was time to start calling.

Her mouth felt dry. Compiling the list had built up her hopes. Every name and number represented a new chance. Now she knew her hopes would be broken down again, as the list of places where Jacqui might be staying grew smaller and smaller.

Cassie dialed the first number, a guesthouse in the town center.