by Daisy James
She decided to gather a few sprigs of fresh rosemary for Meghan’s room, and reminded herself to tell her the story Francesca had told them about inhaling the herb on Christmas Eve. Meghan would love that, and so would Jonti. She then stored her bucket and yellow Marigolds under the sink and trotted across the terrace to the garden, humming her own version of ‘Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town’ as she selected a bunch of the glossiest stalks of rosemary.
On her way back, she caught the final ring of the house phone and sighed, remembering she still hadn’t re-charged her phone. She was about to make her way to the kitchen to locate her charger when she heard the crunch of car tyres on the gravel in the driveway and her heart skipped a beat.
Luca!
Izzie smiled – he was earlier than she’d expected. She was eager to sit down with him and just talk about everything that was swirling around in her head. She needed to tell him about the flowerpot incident being an unfortunate accident, as indeed the wine stain on Nick’s dinner jacket must have been, but more than that she wanted to find out how he felt about selling the villa, how he felt about her! She truly hoped that she would hear the words she wanted to hear so she could tell him that she wasn’t going to accept Harry’s offer, that she wanted to stay in San Vivaldo, that she loved him. But what if he didn’t?
She crossed the terrace, passed the pergola and walked round to the front steps where she came to an abrupt halt and her whole world tilted on its axis as she tried to assimilate what her eyes were telling to believe.
At first she though it was some kind of mirage – the tall blonde figure emerging from the driver’s seat of a nondescript white hire car – until the apparition spoke in a voice almost as familiar as her own, albeit from some point in the past.
‘Izzie?’
‘Oh my God! Alex!’
An explosion of confusion burst into her brain. She glanced over his shoulder to see who was with him, but he was alone. She was vaguely aware that Alex’s lips were moving, but she couldn’t hear what he was saying through the cloud of incomprehension that had wrapped its tendrils around her.
After a couple of moments, the shockwave abated sufficiently for her to tune back into reality. As strange as it seemed, Alex, her ex-fiancé whom she hadn’t laid eyes on for months, was standing in front of her on the terrace at Villa Limoncello, smiling as though he had just been passing by and decided to call in for a coffee. He looked exactly as he always did: clean-shaven, his hair neatly barbered with a smidgeon of gel in the quiff at the front, smart chinos and a crease-free linen shirt in a pale ivory colour. If she hadn’t already known he was a fully paid-up member of the legal profession, it would have been her first guess.
‘Izzie? Are you okay?’
‘No… erm, I mean, yes… I don’t actually…’ she spluttered, waiting for her heart rate to calm from sprint to trot. She scrutinised the hire car again. ‘Is Penny with you?’
‘No, I thought you knew, we’re not together any more. Actually, she’s over in Toronto. Got a job offer to work for a glossy magazine – a dream come true, she says.’
‘Oh…’ was all she could think of to say, her brain curiously blank.
‘I’m sorry to just drop in on you, Iz, I know it’s a bit of a surprise, but… erm, do you think we could sit down?’
Izzie nodded and led Alex to a chair underneath the pergola, for some reason her subconscious preventing her from showing him into the villa. When they were seated, she leapt back up again.
‘I’ll get us some coffee.’
She rushed off to the kitchen and set the kettle to boil, gripping the countertop to steady herself, taking deep breaths until she felt like herself again. She pulled out her phone to plug it into her charger and when she’d done so, she saw that she’d had four missed calls from Meghan and a text. She clicked the tiny envelope and all she could see at first was a series of exclamation marks. Then she read the message.
Alex on his way!!!!
Yes, she knew that.
As though on autopilot, she went through the motions of making a cafetière of coffee, plonked two mugs on a tray with a jug of fresh milk and, on wobbly legs, carried it outside, where Alex seemed to have made himself at home, leaning back in his chair with his arms stretched behind his head, taking in the spectacular scenery.
‘It’s a stunning view! I totally get why you’re over here.’
‘Who told you where I was?’
‘Oh, I bumped into Jonti at the theatre last week and he waxed lyrical about the place, even showed me some of the photographs you and Meghan have sent to him on his phone. He also told me how much you love Tuscany and this gorgeous villa named after the lemons that are grown here, and how happy you are running the retreats, and he’s right, you look amazing. The place clearly agrees with you – you’re so much more like the old Izzie, before… well, just before.’
Alex fiddled with the fastening of the gold watch at his wrist, clearly unsure whether he should utter Anna’s name so soon in their conversation.
Izzie took pity on him. Okay, so he’d landed on her doorstep uninvited and unexpected, which was perhaps a little rude, but their break-up hadn’t been in the least acrimonious. In fact, if truth be told, Alex had done everything in his power and more to be supportive after she’d lost Anna. It had been her who had withdrawn, shut him out, for some reason not feeling worthy of being loved by him, strange though it sounded. Alex had waited patiently, and would have continued to do so, but she had pushed him away.
On that heartbreaking day two years ago, Anna had been in the throes of organising the most amazing wedding St Ives had ever seen. Her sister was marrying her childhood sweetheart, Josh, and wanted to involve everyone she loved in their celebrations, including her reception class pupils, and the thought of arranging her own wedding to Alex only ten months later had filled her with dread. So she had called off their engagement and told Alex to move on with his life. To give him his due, he had put up a good fight, tried to make her see that it was her grief talking, assured her that he loved her and would wait for as long as it took, but she didn’t want him to wait.
In fact, the remorse Izzie had felt about keeping Alex hanging on had only added to the overwhelming feelings of guilt she carried with her – that she had survived to live another day when her sister hadn’t. She hadn’t told anyone how she felt, but when Alex eventually accepted that she wasn’t going to change her mind and moved out of their flat, a little of the heavy load she carried had lifted because she wasn’t dragging his emotions down with hers. She had even liked Perfect Penny, as Jonti had called Alex’s new girlfriend after he’d introduced her to them when they’d bumped into him whilst on a date at the theatre. She was happy he had met someone else, and now she was sad that it hadn’t lasted.
‘I’m sorry to hear about you and Penny.’
‘Oh, we broke up a couple of months ago, we’re still friends, and she’s even emailed me some photos of her trip to Niagara Falls, which, I have to tell you, looks awesome!’
Izzie was starting to feel strange, as though she was having an out-of-body experience, floating on high and looking down at the incongruous situation she found herself in: sitting there, surrounded by the bucolic Tuscan countryside, talking to Alex as if nothing had happened between them. But everything had happened, and she was no longer the same Izzie he had known.
‘Alex, why are you here?’
‘Jonti told me about Harry’s offer – the renovation project in Cornwall? It sounds fabulous, Izzie, exactly the sort of challenge you love to get stuck into. I bet you already have a draft vision for the whole development. And creative director for Hambleton Homes, too!’
‘Yes, it’s a very generous offer.’
‘And to be able to see your parents whenever you want. Oh, Iz, I’m so pleased this has happened after everything you’ve been through. I just know you’ll be happy there.’
Izzie took a sip of her coffee, peering over the rim at Alex and noticing he had started
to fiddle with his watch again – something he always did when he was nervous. Alex always dressed immaculately, and he owned a huge collection of silk ties, both sober and outrageous, but he had a particular obsession with watches and at last count he had well over a hundred from Rotary to Rolex, from big brash diver’s watches to colourful Mickey Mouse ones with protruding ears. That day’s choice was a watch she had bought for him at Tiffany’s when they were celebrating their engagement in New York and her heart gave a nip of emotion at the memory. Alex had seen her glance at his wrist.
‘Remember when we got this?’
‘I do.’
‘It was a great trip, wasn’t it?’
‘I think it was one of the best trips of my life,’ she said, smiling as she met his eyes, her curiosity mounting as she realised that Alex was clearly building up to broach a difficult subject.
Another pause in the conversation allowed Izzie to tune into the sound of the creatures who called Villa Limoncello their home, going about their daily business, and inhale the familiar aroma of the herbs that surrounded the terrace: sage, thyme, oregano, a hint of lavender.
‘How are things at work?’ she blurted to fill in the uncomfortable silence, then kicked herself for going with such a mundane question. She no longer had any interest in Alex’s climb up the corporate ladder of the legal profession.
‘Actually, they’ve offered me a partnership from next March, but well, that’s why I’m here.’
‘It is?’
Izzie scrunched up her nose in surprise. Surely Alex didn’t want her advice on his career progression? If he did, then he’d come to the wrong place because she had no idea what partnership entailed and anyway, she could have easily told him that over the phone.
‘I’m not going to take it.’
‘But I thought that was what you’ve been working towards for the last five years. It’s the golden ticket, you said.’
‘Things change, Iz. People change.’
Alex allowed his gaze to rest on Izzie, but she couldn’t read the meaning that nestled there. He looked like the same Alex to her, the honest, hardworking, ambitious guy who would never bend the rules – it was what she had loved about him. The apartment they had shared in a block overlooking the Thames had been run like a well-oiled machine, the bills paid on time, insurances kept up-to-date, utility providers changed regularly to ensure the best deals.
‘What do you mean?’
‘You know that I’ve always loved messing about on the water,’ Alex began tentatively.
That was an understatement, Izzie thought with a wry smile. When he wasn’t championing his legal causes, Alex had spent every spare moment at the local rowing club, training for the next race or simply hanging out with his like-minded friends. And on their rare weekends away, they’d had to choose somewhere there would be boats to hire, or diving expeditions to take part in, or surf schools to join. Loved messing about on the water? In another life Alex would have been a merman!
‘Yes,’ she laughed. ‘How could I forget? I’ve spent enough time freezing my socks off on the banks of a river or on the beach watching you compete in a boat race!’
‘Remember that time we capsized in the Solent and Bart screamed blue murder because he’d just had highlights done and he thought the salt water would turn his hair green!’
‘I do!’
They both laughed, enjoying the memory.
‘He and Juliet are getting married next year, by the way. Valentine’s Day – then they’re moving back to Plymouth. And remember Marcus, Penny’s brother? He’s renting a place in Brighton for a year to pursue his love of ceramics and so he can be with Brett – he’s in his element because they’ve just taken on a couple of Labradoodles.’
Izzie shook her head at that snippet of news. Jonti, who had been particularly taken with Penny’s younger brother, would be devastated when he heard that. Thinking of Jonti brought Izzie’s thoughts screeching back to the present.
‘Alex, I…’
‘As I was saying, people change and things can happen to make us reassess our priorities. And… well, I’ve been offered a job at a diving school in Newquay, starting in the new year, and I thought…’
Izzie stared at Alex as the pieces of the jigsaw started to drop into place. She saw his cheeks colour, but nevertheless he held her gaze, the story they told at last making it abundantly clear why he was sitting opposite her under the pergola at Villa Limoncello.
‘Alex, I…’
‘It’s perfect, Iz, just hear me out. You accept Harry’s proposal, move back down to St Ives, and I take the job at the diving school. We can start over, take it slowly, no pressure. I’ll rent a place and you, well, I assume you’ll stay at your mum and dad’s? We can date, see how we get on. It’s a second chance to build a new life together in Cornwall, away from the frantic frenzy of London, to live life at a slower pace so we can both follow our dreams.’
‘Oh, Alex…’
‘I still love you, Iz. I never fell out of love with you, you just seemed to float away from me, so far that I couldn’t get you back. I tried so hard…’
‘I know you did, Alex, I know you did,’ she whispered, her heart contracting painfully at the memory, but also at the hope that was shining through the tears glistening at the corners of his eyes.
‘We were good together. I’ve never felt the same way about anyone as I do about you. You’re my soulmate and this is our chance to reconnect. What do you say?’
Chapter Twenty-Six
The terrace, Villa Limoncello
Colour: Electric blue
The shock of Alex’s suggestion sent her emotions in a kaleidoscope of directions. Questions ricocheted around her head, one after the other, in a procession of alternatives, each one with pros and cons attached.
Should she take Harry up on his offer – reintegrate into the community that had been her home for twenty-one years, where everyone knew everything about her and the pain that had shattered her heart? Take some time to consider what Alex had said?
Should she go back to London – look for a new job there and go back to her old life with Meghan and Jonti by her side?
Or should she make a go of things in Tuscany, irrespective of what Luca was planning for the villa?
She thought of her purple folder lying on the kitchen table, its pull almost irresistible, its call telling her to take a blank piece of paper and make a list of the advantages and disadvantages of each of the options, then simply add up the number of ticks and pursue the choice which claimed top spot.
That was what the old Izzie would have done, the one who had arrived in San Vivaldo six months ago, adhering rigidly to a fixed routine for fear her world would collapse around her if there was no scaffolding to hold it together. She started to assemble her arguments for the return to Cornwall without the help of a pen and paper, but stopped and gave herself a mental head slap.
Stop it!
Had she learned nothing from her stay at Villa Limoncello?
A decision like this shouldn’t be made by over-analysing, over-thinking, or what looked better ‘on paper’. It should be made by listening to her heart. Sitting in front of her, Alex embodied everything from her former life, a life she hardly recognised despite how happy it had been, despite how much she had loved him then. The truth was that she didn’t love him now and she didn’t need a list to tell her that.
She looked Alex in the eye, a surge of affection flooding her body – affection, not love. The sort of feeling she would have if she was sitting next to her brother, listening to his plans for a new start, urging him to do what made him happy. She wanted Alex to follow his dreams, but she knew they couldn’t include her. She would continue to be his friend, she would always be his friend, but she could never do what he was asking her to do – the only path for her was forwards.
‘I’m sorry, Alex.’
She placed her hand over his, saddened by the dash of pain in his eyes.
‘I don’t think it would
work. We can’t go back to how we were, no matter how much we want to.’
‘Izzie, I…’
‘And, actually, I’ve already made my decision about Harry’s offer. I’m going to call him tomorrow to thank him for his faith in my abilities, but the answer will be no.’
‘But why? It’s the perfect chance to…’
‘Because when I think of myself living back in St Ives, the image I see doesn’t spark excitement, happiness and joy!’
‘Spark excitement?’
‘Yes, when I think of spending even one hour here at Villa Limoncello in the limonaia, or sauntering through the olive groves, or sipping my morning coffee in the gazebo, the whole package ignites delight in my heart and that, from now on, is what my decision-making process is going to be based on. No more lists, no more tick-boxes, no more Rolodex, no more arch-lever files bursting with paperwork… just that one simple question – will that make me happy?’
‘And living back in Cornwall won’t do that?’
‘I love Cornwall, but you know what? I don’t think it will.’
‘And living here in Tuscany will?’
Izzie smiled, glancing over her shoulder at the garden, the top of the marble fountain peeking from behind the magnolia tree, the muted buzz of the cicadas, the chiming of a distant church bell, and the feeling of complete serenity the villa seemed to inspire in her very soul. She had never been more certain of where she should be in her life. She didn’t need a list to tell her that being there made her happy, she knew it did!
‘Yes.’
‘And I can’t say anything to make you change your mind?’
She saw the flicker of hope in Alex’s eyes extinguish when he saw the expression on her face and the regretful shake of her head.
‘Sorry.’
Alex swallowed, glanced at his watch, and then smiled in resignation without a hint of criticism.
‘Then I’m happy for you, too, Izzie. I’m happy that you’ve found a place where you can be yourself again, where you can be whole instead of the shattered soul you were in London. Maybe I’ll find something that sparks my excitement in Newquay!’