Sheila Connolly - Reunion with Death Read Online Free PDF Page A

lot of these people had barely spoken to each other in college, much less after, so it wasn’t just a band of friends taking a fun holiday together. I was looking forward to finding out what the catalyst was.
    Or maybe there wasn’t one. Maybe everything was just as it seemed and forty women had jumped at the chance to hang out with like-minded women in the sunny north of Italy.
    I checked my watch and found I’d forgotten to reset the time. There was a five—no, six-hour time difference, which made it just past ten o’clock where I now stood. Tomorrow would be a busy day, and despite my internal clock telling me it was still early, I thought I should at least try to get some sleep.
    “I’m going to brave the shower,” I announced to Cynthia.
    “You go, girl. If you’re not out in half an hour, I’ll send in the rescue team.”
    I snorted and padded down the chilly tiled hallway to the bathroom. I took a moment to study the plumbing, but at least everything looked familiar—hot, cold, a couple of levers to divert the water. I took another minute to chase a couple of long-legged centipedes down the drain (I couldn’t bring myself to squish them, but I didn’t mind washing them away), then turned on the water, which obligingly became nice and hot. I took a fast shower, toweled off quickly with scratchy air-dried towels, brushed my teeth, and hurried back to the bedroom, where I wrapped myself in a blanket.
    Cynthia looked up from whatever she was reading. “Everything works?”
    “It does,” I said, briskly toweling my hair. “Have you looked at the schedule for tomorrow?”
    “I did, and I get tired just thinking about it. One monastery, three villas, and then a home-grown play at dinner. I wonder if our brains will still be working by that time?”
    “Maybe that’s the point—we couldn’t possibly be too critical of whatever they come up with if we’re all exhausted,” I commented.
    “There is that. Wonder what the monastery will make of forty women poking around? I for one can’t believe there are still monks in this day and age,” Cynthia said.
    “What, you can’t believe men would actually choose to live without women?”
    “I’m trying. I’ll admit there are days when a nunnery sounds good—peace and quiet, plenty of simple rules. Think I could find one?”
    “It would have to have wireless for you.”
    “True. But at least that’s silent.” She stood up quickly. “I’ll grab a shower.”
    “Say hi to the centipedes!” I called out after her retreating back. I burrowed under the covers, pulling a third blanket up to my neck, and tried to read, but I was asleep before Cynthia returned from her shower.
     
    • • •
     
    Of course I woke way too early the next day, although I’d slept like the proverbial dead. Maybe all I needed to do to sleep well back home was drag a fifty-pound suitcase after me all day across a couple of continents. I opened one eye to assure myself that, yes, that was daylight filtering through from the adjoining room. I rolled over to check my clock—whoops, I’d forgotten to reset that too, and the math of adding six hours to whatever it read was almost too much to handle. It was nearly seven, local time, I decided. Too early for breakfast, and I hadn’t noticed anything so modern as a coffeemaker in our room. I lay cocooned in my many blankets, listening to Cynthia’s quiet breathing, and contemplated what the day and the week would hold.
    We were in Italy: check. We had all arrived, apparently without mishap, and were now sequestered in this sprawling estate high in the Tuscan hills: check. Florence was a half hour away in some direction. I listened for a moment for any outside noises but all I could hear was a rather simple-minded wood dove or something like it that kept repeating the same two notes over and over and over … I dozed.
    The next time I woke up it was half an hour later, and I figured I could justify getting up. I inventoried what