‘I think I know what this is,’ I say, a smile spreading across my face. The box is heavy and exactly the right size for the item I think it contains. ‘You did it. You got us one!’ I say, turning it over to read the message engraved on the padlock. Luca & (bella) Mia. I trace my fingers over our engraved names, and in an instant my elation …
‘That’s my way of saying that you’re my forever, Mia.’
… turns into fear.
That night I toss and turn until the first rays of sunlight trickle through the window to our bedroom, bathing us with dappled light, casting tiny rainbows on the ceiling.
‘Up for a swim, painter girl?’ asks Luca.
‘I just want to sleep for a little longer.’
‘You tired this morning?’ he asks, brushing his hand across my cheek.
I nod and close my eyes. ‘Just half an hour.’
When I do reluctantly pull myself out of bed, it’s too late to get a spot on one of the main beaches.
‘Doesn’t matter, we have that,’ says Luca, pointing to an inlet where a small rock pool and lagoon that lies below us are tucked away between the cliffs. The aquamarine water lazily beckons us with its seductive appeal.
‘I thought you said it was a private lagoon?’
‘I did. It’s our private lagoon.’
‘You’re full of surprises, aren’t you? Let me grab my towel.’
The only terrible thing about stepping down the hundreds of steps leading down to the lagoon is that we’ll need to walk back up them later on. We reach the rock pool, dropping our towels and beach bags in the sun, heading straight into the water, which is as warm as a freshly run bath. Once we’ve cooled off, we find a cosy spot to lie under the sun.
‘Mia, I need to ask you something.’
‘Oh? What’s that?’
‘Last night, you seemed a little quiet. Are you homesick? I know you said you didn’t want to leave, but I understand if you’re homesick.’
‘Oh, no,’ I say, shaking my head. ‘It’s nothing like that. I mean, I miss my parents, but things with them have been a little easier recently.’
‘Then what is it? Because I know you didn’t sleep last night.’
I hold onto my breath before exhaling deeply. There’s nowhere to turn, nowhere to look away when he pierces my eyes with his intense stare. He waits for me to respond.
‘You cried the other day.’
‘What do you mean?’ He furrows his brow.
‘At the lemon grove, when I told you about—’
His eyes widen in surprise. ‘That’s what this is about?’
‘It’s fine, I mean, it’s okay that you did, it’s just that it made me worry that if it happens again—if I get sick again—it’s not fair for me to condemn you to a life where you might be the one watching me go through that kind of stuff again, Luca. If you got upset just listening to me tell you about it, and you weren’t even there, what are you going to be like if you see it unfold before your eyes?’
‘Of course I got upset! How did you expect me to react?’
‘What happens if you lose me? You’ve already had to deal with losing your parents so suddenly. I don’t know if I can do that to you. I don’t know if it’s right to let that happen to you.’
He sits up now and his hands begin speaking in rhythm with his words. ‘You’ve been sitting on these worries for how long now?’
‘A week? Don’t be upset. Please.’
He glides his hand over his forehead. ‘Mia, I am upset. Not because you’re thinking what you’re thinking, but because you didn’t talk to me about it. You can’t keep that kind of stuff inside you. We’re a couple. You need to trust me.’
‘I do trust you.’
‘Then you need to trust that I know what I’m doing. I know you’re in remission. I know what you’ve been through, and I know what could or could not occur in your future. We already spoke about this, and I thought you had gotten past this.’
‘Well, I thought I had, too. I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry for feeling the way that I do.’
‘I’m not going to sit here and pretend that I wouldn’t be devastated if you got sick again, or that I wouldn’t be worried. But I can tell you this: I’m not going anywhere. I’m certain that I would rather live my life knowing I made every single day count with you than be apart from you, knowing that you were living your life someplace else without me.’
I draw my knees up to my chest and fight back the tears.
‘I also know that the figures mean nothing. Niente.’ He stands up and makes his way to the rock pool. ‘Don’t let your fears come between us, Mia. What we have is too special.’
NINETEEN
After spending the last few days travelling to the dive centre in Sorrento and learning the basics, today is the day we’re making our first boat dive. We follow the coastline to Sorrento, where Nico, our instructor, greets us at the pier. On one side, a row of colourful fishing boats sits patiently in the blue-green waters, gently swaying to the rhythm of the sea. On the other side, Nico unties a rope and motions for us to follow him onto the dive boat.
‘I can’t believe we’re actually doing this,’ I say, before stepping onto the boat.
When we reach the dive point, Nico stops the boat, and I get my gear ready. ‘All right, amoretti, are we set to go?’ he asks, flashing a grin. ‘As we descend, I want you to use your lungs and your buoyancy compensator. I’ll ask you to stop so you can get the hang of what neutral buoyancy feels like.’
‘Great,’ I say. Luca flashes a thumbs-up sign.
Nico helps check our equipment before getting himself ready. ‘Let’s do this, ragazzi. Remember, I want you to check your depth gauges and let me know once you’re at our agreed depth. Please use your hand signals. I’ll be right beside you both the whole time.’
Luca squeezes my hand. We exhale on the surface and begin our descent. I’m controlling my breathing with ease, and enjoying the serene, almost motionless underwater world we’ve entered. Fish glide between and around us, and I watch them with sheer awe. I acknowledge Nico’s hand signals and we stop before descending further. I check on my breathing and Nico gives us the go-ahead to keep descending. As seahorses drift around us, and rich red sea fans come into our line of sight, I savour each minute we spend in this underwater world as nature and I become one. As octopuses and sea animals go about their day, oblivious to our presence, I become a weightless observer of a world I never knew existed. After what feels like a blink of an eye, Nico signals for us to make our ascent and I reluctantly follow his instructions. Luca reaches for my hand just before we resurface and I give it a squeeze.
‘Great job, ragazzi! Whenever you like, come back and you can do your first open-water dive alone.’
‘We did it,’ I whisper to Luca.
‘That was one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen,’ he replies.
I don’t answer him.
‘Mia?’
‘Shh—I’m trying to remember it.’
When we get back to Positano, we hire a boat for the rest of the day.
‘We’ve got one week left together here, painter girl. How are we going to make the most of it?’ asks Luca, reeling in a fish. ‘Sea bream,’ he says, admiring his catch, before he unhooks it and releases its slippery body back into the water.
‘I think we’re doing a pretty good job of making the most of every day,’ I reply, trying to keep my hand poised. Painting on a boat in the full sun was a terrible idea. There’s a thrumming in my head that no amount of rubbing my temples seems to be relieving. ‘Horse riding along the beach, romantic seafood dinners, late nights and lazy mornings. Oh, and did I mention I’ve developed a love for scuba diving now that I’m a certified diver?’
‘Told you, painter girl, we’ve got this,’ he says. He tilts his sunglasses down and pierces my eyes with his. ‘Right?’
‘Right.’
He winks at me and moves to the back of the boat. Now his legs are happily imm
ersed in the water, while the sun’s rays bounce off his deeply tanned skin. I lift my sundress up, over my head and jump off the back of the boat with a splash, the water offering temporary respite from the heat.
‘Come in,’ I say, pulling him into the water, where I shower him with a dozen kisses that morph into one long clumsy one as we both struggle to keep ourselves afloat. Luca disappears beneath the surface and pulls me under, tickling me. I resurface, draw my first breath, and a wave of laughter escapes me. He’s laughing, too, and when our laughter draws to an end, I realise with urgency that this experience will someday become a memory just like all the others.
‘Promise me you’ll never forget today.’
He grins at me. ‘Promise.’
Later, we return to the shore and have a bite to eat at a nearby restaurant before starting our stroll back to the apartment. Making my way up the steps is turning out to be more strenuous than usual, and I pause for a few minutes, leaning against a stone wall, to wipe the perspiration from my forehead. ‘You know what? This has been a really long day, and I think I’ve had too much sun.’
Luca places his hand on my forehead.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Just checking to see if you have a temperature. You seem okay.’
‘Let’s just rest for a bit. I’m feeling a little dizzy.’
Luca’s eyes narrow. ‘It might be heat exhaustion.’ He screws off the lid from a bottle of water and waits for me to finish drinking. ‘Let’s go slow,’ he says, placing his arm around my waist so I can lean on him.
We eventually make it back to the apartment, where I head straight for bed. As soon as my head sinks into the pillow I’m out, waking only when Luca comes in to check on me.
‘Feeling any better?’ he asks, his palm resting on my forehead.
‘What time is it?’ I ask, blinking my eyes into focus.
‘Seven o’clock,’ he says. ‘I booked dinner for eight.’
‘Mind if we stay in tonight?’ I ask, pulling the covers up to my chin. ‘I think I might be coming down with something.’
‘No problem.’
As my fingers travel to the spots behind my ears, to my armpits and to my groin, I hope with every inch of my being that he’s right.
The following morning, I join Luca on the balcony, where he’s flicking through the sports pages of the newspaper.
‘How are you feeling?’ he asks, pouring me a juice.
‘I think I’m getting a sore throat, but I’m okay,’ I reply, hoping I’ll feel better after a shower.
Luca looks at me intently, trying to discern whether I’m well enough for today’s dive, our first open-water dive together.
‘Really, I’m fine.’ My back is still aching. I can barely find the energy to move, but I know today’s important so I paste on a happy face and wash a couple of headache tablets down with my juice, hoping Luca doesn’t notice me wincing in pain.
‘Maybe we should stay in today. You look a little pale. We can reschedule.’ He reaches for his phone.
‘No way! I’ll be fine.’
I mustn’t appear too unwell because he folds his newspaper, kisses me on the forehead and says, ‘Come on, then. Let’s go make some beautiful memories.’
We reach Sorrento within the hour, and Nico greets us with enthusiasm, shaking Luca’s hand and patting him on the back. ‘Off your training wheels now, eh? Today’s the big dive,’ he says. ‘You ready, Mia?’
‘Can’t wait,’ I reply. Despite the painkillers, my body still aches and the air-conditioned dive centre isn’t helping. Without drawing attention to myself, I run my fingers behind my ears and down my jawline. A veil of panic starts to slip over me as my fingers move over the two bumps, but Nico distracts me by calling for us to get our gear ready. He runs us through everything we need to know for this particular dive and I nod where I’m supposed to, trying my best to concentrate on his words instead of my body.
Nico escorts us to the dive point by boat and I spend the ride holding on tightly to Luca’s hand. ‘You nervous?’ he asks, squeezing my hand.
‘Yeah, a little,’ I reply, pushing everything down into the pit of my stomach. Just get through the dive, Mia.
‘You know what to do. You’ll be fine.’
We stop when we reach a rock in a protected marine area on which sits a bronze statue of the Madonna. Nico anchors the boat and instructs us to get ready. ‘All right, ragazzi, this is it,’ he says.
I fit my gear into place and focus on controlling my breathing, while Luca and I position ourselves on the edge of the boat. We make our hand signals and roll backwards into the water. The water closes over me and my attention focuses on descending slowly and steadily. Minutes in, Luca flashes me the ‘okay’ sign and I sign it back to him. He grabs hold of my hand then, but his touch somehow ignites a rush of anxiety in me. My chest tightens. I’m inhaling and exhaling way too fast, wasting precious air as I struggle to control my breathing. I’m trying to think of what I need to do to signal to him that I need to ascend, that I need to get out of here, right now. I tug my hand away, breaking free from his grasp, kicking my flippers in a flurry of panic.
Air, I need air.
Safety feels so far away. Luca’s hand wraps around my forearm tightly, and I try to twist away but his grasp is firm. He signals with two fingers for me to look at him. And then he motions with his palm flat. What does that even mean? What is he saying? I don’t remember how to tell him there’s a problem. That I need to get out of here. Now. Let me out of here right now.
He grips my arm tighter and signals again.
Slow down. Oh, God, I need to slow down. He’s telling me to calm down. Now he’s pointing to his head.
Think. Think, Mia.
Luca’s signals distract me enough from my panicked breathing and I manage to slow down the ascent. We reach the surface, where Luca lets go of my arm and rips off his mask.
‘Oh my God, Mia, what were you thinking? You could have killed yourself!’
‘Ragazzi, what happened? Is everything okay?’ calls Nico. I make my way to the boat and climb up the ladder.
‘I don’t know. She panicked,’ says Luca, pulling himself up onto the boat.
‘Are you feeling all right?’ asks Nico, checking me over. ‘Dizzy?’
I shake my head. ‘I’m fine.’
Nico and Luca talk amongst themselves as they discuss what has transpired below the surface. I slide my gear off and curl up in the back corner of the boat with a towel around my shoulders.
‘Mia, don’t let today put you off. We’ll go over what I’ve taught you and we’ll try again, together, another time,’ says Nico. ‘It’s very important that you don’t panic in a situation like this, okay?’
I nod. ‘Sure.’
Luca slips out of his gear and sits down next to me.
‘What just happened down there?’
‘Like you said, I panicked.’
‘But why? You’ve been fine in our other dives.’
‘Maybe because I’m not feeling well.’
‘You told me you were feeling okay. You shouldn’t have done the dive if you weren’t feeling up to it. What are you feeling?’ he asks with an air of frustration.
‘I don’t want to talk about it. Please. I’m embarrassed enough as it is.’
He reaches for my hand, but I pull away and fumble through my backpack for another painkiller, even though I doubt it can take away the kind of pain I’m feeling right now.
I don’t know how I manage to haul my body up the stone steps to the apartment. Luca pushes open the front door and holds it wide for me.
‘I’m sorry I ruined today,’ I say.
‘Don’t worry about it, you just need to rest.’
‘I am worried about it, Luca,’ I reply, more forcefully than I intended.
‘Tell me what you’re feeling.’ He tosses the keys on the table and sets our bag down.
‘No energy. Chills. Achy. Sore throat.’ I fiddle with the belt of
my dress, the belt that tells me my waist has got smaller since I last wore it.
‘Okay, so we’ll call a doctor.’ He reaches into his pocket for his phone.
‘No, I don’t need a doctor, Luca.’
‘But you’re sick.’
‘I don’t want to see a doctor.’ This is the truth, but my words spill out too harshly.
‘Fine.’
‘I’m going to lie down,’ I say, heading for the bedroom. I don’t bother changing before I slip under the covers. Luca curls up behind me, nestling his chin between my neck and shoulder.
‘Hey,’ I say, my voice flat, not bothering to open my eyes. ‘You were right. I shouldn’t have done the dive.’
‘It’s over now; stop thinking about it.’
‘But I’m scared, Luca.’
He props himself up on his elbow and looks at me. ‘That’s why you panicked in the water, isn’t it?’
‘Yes.’ I roll over to face him. ‘My glands are swollen.’
‘You’re worried you’re sick again, as in—God, why didn’t you tell me?’
‘Maybe calling a doctor would be a good idea.’
‘Listen to me. You’re probably just fighting off some kind of virus or infection and it’s likely to be nothing and then he can reassure you,’ he says, his tone firm. He reaches under my ears and runs his fingers over the two swollen nodes. ‘Mia, look at me.’
I avoid his gaze.
‘Swollen glands don’t necessarily mean …’
I close my eyes then, because I don’t want to hear him finish his sentence.
He gets up and opens the bi-fold doors that lead to the balcony. He sits down and takes out his phone. I’m sure he’s calling a doctor. When he ends the call, his knees knock against at the table as he twirls an empty coffee cup in circles.
‘I just realised I don’t even know when your birthday is.’
‘February,’ I croak.
He flips around to face me. ‘Date?’ he asks.
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