Author's note: It had always been my intention to write a second book, using the main characters, specifically Bella and David in the continued ongoing saga. Unfortunately, circumstance made that very difficult for me, which some of you may, or may not be aware of having read my updated profile. It is very, very difficult for me to write now, so I cannot do as much as I was once able to do. My finger tips are still very numb, and can cause a bit of pain if I over work them (especially trying to type). You'd be surprised at just how difficult a task that is, and how long it has now taken me just to write this particular story. Hence, I decided to at the very least, try and write a final chapter of sorts. I wanted to tie up as many loose ends as I could, to finish this, and hopefully in some way, respond back to the almost countless requests I have received to continue this story. I hope that what I have written here, or attempted to write here, has done that. And to everyone that has followed my writing over the course of the years. I thank you. I thank you for your comments, even criticisms when they were warranted, along with your votes, which for a while, had me listed as the #1 author here on the site. (I think I am still #4 in fact, though I haven't written anything for a while). I apologize that I am neither writing, nor submitting stories the way I once was able to. But I will try... as I can, and when I can, to get something new out there every once in a while. For as long as I am able to at least. So again... thank you one and all. And I do hope you will enjoy this final chapter of Tinkle Bell.
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I was nervous as a twitch when after a long flight, finally landing at Galileo Galilei International airport near Tuscany Italy, where Bella's family owned and operated one of the more exclusive Vineyards in the area. Needless to say, I was both anxious and excited to see her again after all this time. We had said very little after that initial contact, mainly because I had booked the first available flight. Therefore, I wasn't too surprised or disappointed upon arriving, that she wasn't there to personally greet me. She had managed to inform me just prior to my leaving that prior commitments necessitated her remaining at the vineyard, but that she would be sending one of her "Uncles", to the airport to pick me up.
Sure enough, as I entered the baggage claim area after clearing customs, I was greeted by an older, somewhat graying man sporting a rather large mustache. He simply stood there holding up a sign that said: "Welcome to my home David," Along with a smiley face that she had obviously drawn herself just beneath that. However, if you looked more closely at the smile on the face of the bright yellow circle she had also drawn and colored in, you saw that part of the smile was a silhouette of two lovers obviously engaged in a very lewd, wonderfully decadent act of "69" with one another. I wondered only briefly if this "Uncle" who she'd sent to pick me up was even aware of it as he stood there holding up the signage.
Her Uncle introduced himself to me as "Matteo", though it was obvious by his broken English he spoke very little. Barely enough to say hello, and convey to me that he had a car outside waiting to take me to the vineyard where Bella would be waiting. I wasn't even sure if he was a real Uncle, or one of the many honorific titles she had given to so many important men in her life as she'd once told me. I figured I'd find out soon enough as it was. My own Italian limited in the few phrases I had learned from her, and picked up during her stay with us. Angry with myself that I had never followed through with the Rosetta Stone program I had purposely bought shortly after her arrival back home so as to do that. With Bella's command of the English language however, I had put doing that on the back burner, and never picked it up again. Now I could kick myself. I was definitely a stranger in a strange land. And knowing Bella as well as I did, I had no doubt things would get even stranger still.
After a short, beautiful drive and as I'd already surmised, limited conversation with Uncle Matteo, we arrived at a beautifully bricked archway that was covered in vines, nearly concealing it. A large sign hung just above the archway however, written curiously enough in both English as well as Italian, "Tenuta, Bella Risso Vineyard".
Once through the entry, a long narrow road continued, the vineyard itself seemingly spread out for miles on either side, with no sign of the actual vineyard itself anywhere in sight.
"Good Lord!" I thought to myself. "She wasn't kidding when she said it could take nearly a full day to walk from one end of it to the other!" We soon rounded a corner in the road however, coming around one of the many rolling hills surrounding the property. Just ahead, on one hill sat what were obviously the wine cellars themselves, across a small valley, on a near identical hill, sat what appeared to be a spacious, very old... yet beautiful homestead, or more aptly put, a Villa, where I figured Bella would be waiting for me.
I was again semi disappointed when we pulled up, greeted by an older woman who appeared to be of some purpose and in charge by her demeanor as she spoke hurriedly in Italian instructing Matteo to take the one somewhat large bag I had brought with me on the flight over. I tried shrugging him off, saying I would do it, but he was having none of that, or rather "She" wasn't, though I hadn't caught her name just yet. After he quickly disappeared inside with my luggage, this rather full bosomed woman once again turned towards me, and in near perfect English, finally introduced herself.
"I am Greta," She said introducing herself. "I am in charge of the house staff," she added with a great deal of pride. "Mistress Bella is currently out on the Southern most acres of the property. I will have Matteo drive you out there once you have freshened up and settled in. Would you care for a glass of one of our wines perhaps? I have a nice Chianti opened and chilling for you," she added. "Mistress Bella thought you might enjoy that particular wine upon your arrival."
I thanked her, and then followed her into the enormous Villa that much like the archway we had driven under and through, made up the spaciously designed home that had more floors and balconies and open aired porches than I'd ever seen before. I followed her up a semi-circular stairway that ended up on what was obviously the third floor. She quickly pointed out to me that the family rooms were off to the left, and that guest quarters were down the hallway to the right. The way she stood there, almost as though guarding the left entry, was a subtle way of telling me, or so I thought anyway... that that particular area was off limits. As to whether Bella's own room existed in that particular direction, she didn't say. And I didn't ask. I figured I'd find out soon enough as it was. I then followed her down a short hallway, and then rounded a corner. Finding it both odd as well as charming to discover another short flight of stairs leading up. A single doorway stood in greeting as she opened it, and then stepped back... inviting me to continue on through it. Perhaps purposely so, as the sheer beauty and spaciousness of my room startled me for a moment. This room alone was bigger than any three put together where I lived. Off to one side, the bed... bigger than a King I imagined, obviously custom made with fine oaks that looked rough hewn, yet polished, glistening with a majestic air about them that seemed ancient, as though from another time and place. The bed was canopied as well, though the sheer coverings were currently drawn back along one side, showing off the perfectly well made bed. Across the way from that, what appeared to be a sunken tub, big enough to easily accommodate a half dozen people or so. Oddly, there was both a toilet and a bidet sitting next to it, both of them out in the open against the back wall. Though I guess if you were the only person staying here, it didn't really matter or require some secondary closed in area for privacy. But it was the balcony itself, and the porch across from the bed, and what was obviously a small, though well stocked bar and kitchenette area that truly took my breath away. Situated as it was, a completely open porch way, yet sheltered, allowed a vast look at the beauty and the magnificence of the grounds stretching out in almost every direction from here. I could only imagine the view at sunset as it faced to the West, already looking forward to that at some point. And then once again, a ladder that seemed to lead up through another hole in the ceiling, though I didn't as yet venture up towards it to take a look, only asking Greta its purpose instead.
"Where does that lead to?" I asked. She smiled, nodding her head appreciatively, and then answering.
"Bella calls it her dream chamber. She used to come here to hide when she was a young child and wanted to get away from everyone. And everyone always knew where she was of course, though they always pretended being unable to find her until she herself wanted to be found. She still comes up here from time to time," Greta answered, once more smiling as though harboring a secret thought. "Though it had been quite a while since she has, until her father took sick, and then suddenly passed away. After that... she would come up here for hours. We knew it was her way of dealing with things, so we left her alone up here whenever she did that."
