by Lucy Diamond
Phoebe, Nita, Sophie and Roy were clustered around Anna, she noticed in the next moment, and Catherine remembered that her friend had just come back from Rome. Oh, and of course – she’d written that amazing review in the Herald, where she’d poured her heart out about Joe! ‘Anna!’ she exclaimed, hurrying over to join them. ‘How was Rome? Did you have a good time?’
Anna looked radiant, there was no other word to describe it. ‘The best,’ she replied, her face shining with happiness. ‘I’ve got so much to tell you all, please say we can go to the pub after this lesson?’
‘Definitely,’ Catherine and Sophie chorused.
‘We’ll all go,’ Nita said, glancing pointedly at Freddie, who’d just arrived in the classroom. ‘I can’t wait to hear all about it.’
Later, at their usual tables in The Bitter End, everyone – even Freddie – listened, rapt, as Anna described her Italian weekend to them: the fantastic-sounding cookery course on Saturday and the few hours’ sight-seeing she and Joe had squeezed in before their plane home on Sunday. ‘And I managed to speak loads of Italian too,’ she said proudly.
‘And what about you and Handsome Colleague?’ Catherine asked. ‘Come on, don’t keep us in suspense!’
‘God, yes,’ Sophie said, agog. ‘I read your review on Saturday – whoa. It totally gave me goosebumps.’
‘Me too!’ Phoebe cried, clutching her chest dramatically. ‘So romantic. What did he say?’
Anna beamed. ‘He said he feels the same way. And so he’s Handsome Boyfriend now, not just Colleague.’
‘Whoop!’ squealed Nita. ‘God, it’s all happening for us ladies, isn’t it? First Sophie and her hunky man. Now you, Anna. Who’s going to be next?’ She batted her eyelashes. ‘Surely moi?’
‘Well, I don’t think it’ll be me,’ Catherine said with a little laugh.
‘No?’ Anna looked at her quizzically. ‘I thought maybe …’
‘No,’ Catherine said, her heart thumping. She saw Anna and Sophie exchange looks and prayed fervently that they weren’t about to mention George’s name. Not out loud, to the rest of the class. The last thing she wanted was for anyone to get the wrong idea or start gossiping about her. Oh dear. Did she have a bit of a thing for him, then?
‘I had a text from George earlier, saying he wouldn’t be here tonight,’ Sophie said quietly, as Phoebe started telling the others a funny story about one of her customers. ‘Apparently his wife’s been involved in an accident and is in hospital. He’s gone down to see her.’
‘I didn’t know he was married,’ Anna said.
‘He’s not any more,’ Catherine said, but she felt as if her heart was being clenched in an iron grip. George dropping everything and rushing down south to be at the bedside of his ex … What did that mean? ‘Did he say anything else?’
‘No, just that. Sounds pretty serious.’ Sophie paused, eyeing her over her wine glass. ‘Are you okay, Cath? Did something happen between you two?’
‘Not really. He asked me out for a drink the other week—’
‘I knew it!’ cried Anna.
‘But I said no. Or rather, I said yes, but then had to cancel. My daughter was … Well, she needed me.’ She bit her lip. ‘I haven’t heard anything from him since then and thought maybe he was being off with me. Sounds like he’s got other things to worry about right now, though.’
‘I reckon. Well, hopefully …’ But Sophie didn’t get very far with her sentence because Anna was suddenly nudging them both and indicating that something far more interesting was occurring on the other side of the table.
‘My phone number?’ Nita was saying.
Freddie coloured slightly as he realized that everyone else appeared to be listening in, but ploughed on. ‘I was thinking maybe we could go out one night,’ he asked her. ‘Practise our Italian in an Italian restaurant somewhere?’
There was a flash of triumph on Nita’s face but it vanished almost immediately. ‘Hold on a minute,’ she replied. ‘I’m not sure I want to be just another notch on your bedpost.’
‘My bedpost? What?’ he asked, puzzled.
‘I’ve heard about all your conquests, Freddie. I’m not stupid, you know!’ Nita said witheringly.
‘Conquests?’ Freddie echoed. ‘What do you mean?’
Sophie gave a little cough. ‘Well, I mentioned to Nita that I saw you with a dark-haired girl in the Gladstone just before Christmas,’ she confessed.
‘And I saw you hugging a gorgeous older woman in town one day,’ Catherine said, feeling like the biggest gossip ever.
‘And I saw you with a bloke in the Porter Brook last month,’ Anna added. ‘Sorry, mate.’
Freddie’s jaw dropped lower and lower with every revelation. ‘Hold on,’ he said. ‘The dark-haired girl in the Gladstone – that must have been Maria. My ex-girlfriend,’ he added to Nita. ‘Her family are Italian, and that’s why I started the course, because we were meant to be going to a big wedding in Tuscany in June and I wanted to learn a few phrases.’
‘Aww, that’s nice, Freddie,’ Phoebe said sympathetically, earning herself a glare from her sister.
‘Only we split up two weeks later,’ Freddie admitted. ‘So I’m not with her any more.’
‘What about this older woman then?’ Nita asked, lips pursed. ‘And this bloke Anna saw you with?’ She wasn’t letting him off the hook that easily.
Freddie looked flummoxed. ‘Well, I’m not gay,’ he said, ‘so the bloke must have been a mate of mine.’ His forehead creased as he thought. ‘The Porter Brook, did you say? A couple of weeks ago? It might have been my mate Lee. He’d just lost his job and was in bits. We had a bit of a manly hug, but that was it. I didn’t start snogging him or owt.’
‘Sorry,’ said Anna, shame-facedly. ‘I totally jumped to the wrong conclusion.’
‘As for the older woman …’ Freddie looked blank. Then his face cleared. ‘Ahh. Was she wearing a long blue coat, by any chance? Silvery blonde hair, maybe swept up in one of those bun things?’
‘A chignon,’ Phoebe said helpfully. ‘Very elegant.’
‘Yes, I think so,’ Catherine said.
Freddie nodded. ‘That’s my mum,’ he said. ‘And I definitely didn’t snog her either.’
Catherine blushed. ‘Oh sorry, Freddie,’ she said apologetically, ‘you must think we’re a right nosey lot.’
‘It’s only because you’re so gorgeous,’ Anna told him. ‘We couldn’t help noticing you, that’s all.’
‘Well, I’m not going out with Maria any more, or my mate Lee, or my mum,’ Freddie said, his cheeks turning pink. ‘So, Nita, let me try again. Would you like to come out for dinner with me one night?’
‘For the love of God, say yes,’ Roy begged. ‘The poor lad. Put him out of his misery, Nita!’
Nita beamed. ‘Yes,’ she said with a grin. ‘I’d bloody love to!’ She smirked at her sister. ‘I told you!’ she said before leaning over the table and giving Freddie a great big kiss.
Phoebe cheered, and Sophie, Anna and Catherine all clapped. Roy banged Freddie on the back. ‘No wonder you’ve never come out to the pub with us before,’ he said with a laugh. ‘Bloody lions’ den, this, isn’t it? Let me buy you a drink, son. Let me buy you all a drink. Geraldine’s going to love this!’
Text to: George
From: Catherine
So sorry to hear about your wife. Is she ok? Are you? Ring me if you need to chat. C
Text to: Catherine
From: George
Thanks. She came off her bike, hit by a car. Bad head injury, internal bleeding, broken bones. Has been in intensive care all week.
Text to: George
From: Catherine
Oh God, how awful. So so sorry. Hope you are hanging in there. Am here if you need to talk. x
But he didn’t ring. He didn’t even reply. So that, thought Catherine sadly, was that.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Due settimane dopo – Two weeks later
Anna walked past
the cascading waterfalls and fountains of Sheaf Square, her overnight bag on one shoulder as she approached Sheffield station. Next stop, London, she thought, and a thrill rippled through her. All that searching she’d done, all that wondering and imagining … it was coming to an end today. After nearly thirty-three years in the world, she was at last going to meet her father.
They had spoken on the phone a few days ago and a weight had lifted from her; a weight she hadn’t even realized she’d been carrying until it was gone. He was real. She had talked to him. He had a London accent and a husky chuckle and said he couldn’t wait to meet her.
‘Me too,’ she managed to say, unexpected tears pricking her eyes. ‘Oh, me too.’
‘I hope it’s okay, but everyone’s very excited about you coming down. My wife, my mother, all the relatives want to see you. If it’s too much, I can hold them at bay, so just say if you’d rather not …’
‘I’d love to meet them,’ she said, happiness bubbling inside her at the thought of this big Italian family waiting for her. ‘The more the merrier.’
She had spent the night before baking a cake for him – well, for all of them, really. It had taken her a while to choose the right recipe, but she’d settled on a layer cake, Dolce alla Napoletana, with pastry cream and flaked almonds. She hoped they would approve of it, and her too, more importantly.
Her phone bleeped in her bag suddenly and she stopped to read the text. Hope it goes well today, love. Thinking about you. Mum xx
Anna was grateful that her mum was taking this new relationship with her dad so well. Tracey had become quite emotional when she’d at last revealed the truth. Never usually one to wear her heart on her sleeve, Tracey had burst into sobs, berating herself for not trying harder to find him, admitting how difficult it had been as a single mother, apologizing if she’d let Anna down in any way.
‘Oh, Mum,’ Anna said, choked up herself, her head whirling with all these confessions. ‘You haven’t let me down. I’ve never thought that for a minute!’
Tracey was still in full flow though. ‘And I know I’ve been hard on you sometimes, but I just didn’t want you to …’ Her words were drowned out in a new gale of sobs. ‘I didn’t want you to make the mistakes I did. Not that you were ever a mistake …’
‘Honestly, Mum, you don’t have to say this.’
‘You were – are – the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And I mean that. I might not have said it enough …’
‘Mum, it’s fine.’
‘But I hope you know I mean it.’
They held each other for a few minutes until Tracey gave a spluttery sort of laugh and wiped her eyes. ‘Sorry about that. I don’t know where it all came from.’
Anna gave her a last squeeze then let go, just as Lambert, the enormously overweight ginger moggy, strutted into the room, demanding attention with a loud meow. Both women laughed and the conversation turned to more mundane things: work, and Anna’s nan, and the weather forecast for the weekend (brightening up, according to Tracey), but Anna felt there was a new understanding between them, a new depth of closeness. No more secrets keeping them apart. It was all good.
Another text had come through. PS Take a photo of him for me, will you? He was a right looker back in the day.
Anna laughed as she stuffed her phone back in her bag and went on towards the station, waving as she saw Joe waiting for her outside.
‘Whoa, get you,’ she teased. ‘Savile Row?’
‘Yeah, right,’ he scoffed, glancing down at his suit. ‘Marks and Spencer’s more like.’ He leaned in to kiss her. ‘You all right?’
She kissed him back, feeling the usual swooping sensation inside that came whenever she was with him. ‘Raring to go. How about you? Practised all your difficult interview questions? Where do you see yourself in five years and all that bollocks?’
He arched an eyebrow. ‘Sitting in the boss’s chair, running the show, of course,’ he said. ‘Come on. We’ve got ten minutes before the train. Let’s grab a coffee and find our seats.’
She grinned at him and they went into the station together, her own question running through her head. So where did she see herself in five years? Well, that was impossible to answer. Right now, she felt as if anything could happen.
The simple answer was just two words though: with Joe. As long as she was with him, she knew she’d be happy.
Epilogue
Io ricordo – I remember
The Italian sky was a bright, cloudless blue and the scent of the hot pink bougainvilleas around Lucca’s poolside bar mingled intoxicatingly with the tang of coconut sun oil and cigarette smoke. Catherine was twenty years old, with a well-stamped interrail ticket, a red dress and the best tan of her life. The air had shimmered with heat and a million possibilities. Anything might happen.
And then there he was, Mike, pulling himself out of the pool, water streaming down his muscular arms: he was tall and athletic, with golden skin and a crooked smile. As he straightened up, she couldn’t help noticing the way his swimming shorts just revealed the tops of his hip bones and she shivered with sudden desire.
He walked over, beads of water still clinging to his body, his eyes never leaving hers. ‘Ciao, bella,’ he said, his voice low and husky.
She turned hot all over. Her breath caught in her throat. It felt as if this was the moment she’d been waiting for. She raised an eyebrow flirtatiously and smiled back at him. ‘Ciao,’ she said.
What a summer that had been. Catherine and her friend Zoe had gone backpacking together during the university holidays and ended up chambermaiding in a lively hotel in Lido di Jesolo on the Venetian Riviera. One day after their shift, she’d come down alone to the pool and there he’d been. Ciao, bella, he’d said in his best Italian accent. She’d fancied the pants off him from the word go.
He was there for ten days with a group of mates, and the two of them had a good time together, dancing at the resort disco, sinking lurid cocktails, kissing passionately as the sun went down … and the rest. Neither of them had thought it was anything other than a holiday fling: two young things swayed by the heat of the Mediterranean sun and their own dizzying lust. The pregnancy test proved otherwise, though.
Funny how life turned out, wasn’t it? Sometimes you seemed to complete a full circle. Because now, almost twenty years later, Catherine was back in Venice, a short boat ride away from where it had all started.
‘Una spremuta, per favore. Grazie,’ she said to the waitress who came to take her order. It was a glorious sunny April day and she had arranged to meet the others in a café overlooking the Grand Canal. From here you could see the watertaxis and gondolas, the slow-moving crush of tourists, cameras flashing as they attempted to capture small slices of the city’s magnificence.
‘Uno momento,’ the waitress replied with a smile.
A fortnight earlier, term had finished at Hurst College and the ten-week Italian course had come to an end. All of the class – well, almost all – had gone out for an Italian meal together afterwards to celebrate and say goodbye. And then, the very next day, on a whim, she’d booked return flights to Venice and an apartment a stone’s throw from the Frari Church. Well, why ever not? You could do these things when you were footloose and fancy free, after all.
Venice was stunning, every bit as beautiful as she remembered. More so, in fact, because as a twenty-year-old she hadn’t appreciated the sheer majesty of the Rialto Bridge, St Mark’s Square, the Palazzo Ducale and, oh, all of it. She’d forgotten, too, how one stumbled upon astonishing piazzas and ancient churches around every corner, all the bright red geraniums that bloomed on windowledges, the skinny stray cats slinking around dusty alleyways, strings of chilli peppers and bowls of fat lemons, Murano glass twinkling in every shop window …
Oh yes. Well, she appreciated it now. Every last ravishing bit of it.
Her juice arrived and she thanked the black-clad waitress and sipped it, enjoying the warm spring sunshine on her face. She still couldn’
t quite believe she was back here, just a few miles from the spot where her life had swerved off course so dramatically nearly twenty years earlier. Well, it was back on track now at least, that was for sure. Full steam ahead.
The last Italian lesson had felt quite sad, as if something really significant was drawing to a close. Over the ten weeks of the course, the class had become more than just a learning experience for her. Every single member of the group had given her something precious in their own way: friendship and new confidence in herself, not to mention the best haircut ever. She planned to keep in touch with all of them.
Phoebe had been promoted recently and Catherine was booked in for another cut with her soon. Freddie and Nita were an item, and already planning a weekend away in Milan. Geraldine had been allowed home again, on condition that she stayed in bed. She was hoping to be up and about on crutches within a few weeks, and she and Roy were still going ahead with their Italian holiday of a lifetime in September.
Anna had recently met her dad and nonna, and received a rapturous Little Italy welcome, by the sound of things. She and Joe were still very much together and Anna positively glowed with happiness whenever she talked about him. Over their class meal out, she had broken the news that Joe had been offered a job in London and had accepted it – and that she had decided to move down with him. She was going to continue her cookery column on a freelance basis while looking for work in the capital. ‘And my dad says there’s always a job for me at Pappa’s if I get stuck,’ she said with a grin.
Catherine was going to miss her but knew that this was the right thing for her friend. ‘I hope you’ll come back and visit us loads,’ she said when they hugged goodbye at the end.
‘Of course I will,’ Anna said. ‘I’ll be back all the time to get my Yorkshire fix, you wait.’
Sophie, too, was making big plans for her future. Now that she’d discovered what she wanted to do with her life, she wasted no time in auditioning for the Drama School in Manchester and was offered a place. This time around, nobody intercepted the offer and she accepted it happily. Before term started in September, she and Dan were saving up to go interrailing around Europe together as a last blast of freedom. Catherine was glad that Mike’s guilt money was being put towards such brilliant purposes, and no longer sitting like a bad smell in his own account.