‘It’s not surprising. You’ve had so much to deal with. Not just with Duncan dying so suddenly, but with him being poorly for so long, and the boys leaving home. It’s all taking its toll. Perhaps you should think about taking some medication to help you over the next few months.’
‘Maybe,’ Julia replied, doubtfully.
‘I know you don’t want to go down the route of taking anti-depressants, but they’ve changed since you took them after Bryden was born. It might help numb the pain a little.’
‘I’ll think about it when I get home. In the meantime, I just need to do something positive for the next few days. I need a project; something to focus on.’
‘OK, I know what; you need to go shopping. Go and buy a new outfit. Something to wear to our Christmas party. I know it’s ages away, but do it for me. New dress, new shoes, new handbag, the whole works. That’s your mission for the day.’
Julia laughed. ‘No, that would be your ideal mission. I have heaps of clothes already, and I can’t imagine I’ll be going to any Christmas parties this year.’
‘But you don’t have heaps of Italian clothes though. And most of your old clothes are too big for you now. Go on, I dare you to buy something totally different. Imagine you’re going shopping with Gok Wan.’
‘I would rather go shopping with you.’
‘That would be fun. But really, you should do something nice for yourself. It might help you snap out of it, even if it’s just for one day. Go to a beauty salon and get your nails done or something.’
‘Oh yeah, like I can say that in Italian.’
‘I doubt you need to say anything, just waggle your fingers. It’s not rocket science.’
‘I’ll think about it.’
‘You do that. And when you feel down, remember this, Duncan fell in love with you because you were always smiling and laughing. He told me that himself. So don’t let him down. He’d want you to carry on and be happy, wouldn’t he?’
‘He would; but it’s not that easy.’
‘No darling, it really isn’t.’
The phone call made Julia feel marginally more cheerful, or if not cheerful, she did feel a little more connected to the world. She wondered at the wisdom of taking herself off to somewhere so isolated from her friends and family. It had seemed such a good idea at the time, but now she felt lonely.
She thought about going home, but then she pictured the triumphant look on Jamie’s face when she would have to tell him he was right, she shouldn’t have gone. For some reason she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. She was still smarting from the argument they had just before she left Edinburgh.
She would just have to suffer in silence. She was already into day three of her holiday and it was now mid-morning. It was time to explore the town.
Julia put on some comfortable walking boots and stuffed a cotton cardigan into her handbag in case it cooled down; ever the Shetlander, she was never optimistic about the weather.
She strolled past Tony’s villa noticing his car was not on the drive, although Maria’s battered old Fiat Panda was. She marched down the narrow lane that led to the town. It was about two miles to Cefalu, but nearly all downhill.
It was Monday morning, and the houses she passed along the way looked unoccupied, no doubt because people were at work and school. The road widened and turned like a hairpin back on itself and she stopped to look down at the town, half a mile closer than she could see from her villa. Pale yellow buildings hugged the shore, and a huge promontory of a cliff overlooked the town, with a religious monument clinging precariously to the top.
However inviting the town looked, Julia could scarcely summon up the energy to continue with her walk. She didn’t really feel like exploring today. She looked back up the steep road where she had come from and sighed. She could hardly be bothered to walk back either. She leaned over the low concrete crash barrier. There was a long drop down to the rocks below.
She wondered, fleetingly, what it would feel like to jump over the edge. It would hurt, she decided, after calculating it might be possible to survive the fall if she missed the rocks and landed on the grassy slope below them.
A car pulled up beside her and Julia turned to see Maria winding down the window to speak to her.
‘Buongiorno! You are walking to Cefalu?’
‘Si!’ Julia said, smiling back at her.
‘You like a drive in car?’
Julia frowned, not quite sure what Maria was suggesting. Then she saw Maria was moving her handbag from the passenger seat and making room for her.
‘Si, grazie,’
‘Prego,’ Maria replied, as Julia climbed into the passenger seat.
As she did up her seatbelt Julia heard a strange sound and turned to see a toddler sitting in a baby seat. He gurgled and stared at Julia with huge brown eyes.
‘Bambino!’ Julia said, grinning at Maria.
‘Si, my grandson, Luca.’
Julia turned back to the boy.
‘Ciao Luca. Aren’t you a gorgeous thing?’
‘My daughter is working. I am babysitter today.’
‘That’s nice for you.’
‘Si, molto bene.’
The journey down the hill in Maria’s car did not take long and a few minutes later she stopped the car at the side of the road near the train station so Julia could get out. Julia turned and waggled Luca’s foot and said goodbye to him, and thanked Maria for the lift.
Maria drove off with a wave as Julia stood at the side of the road and wondered where to go. She saw a sign for the Duomo, the Cathedral, and decided to head that way, as she remembered from the guide book it was surrounded by restaurants. She would have a drink and then decide what to do next.
She strode towards the Cathedral and soon found herself in a large square. The square was overshadowed by the towering rock that rose vertically out of the landscape. Julia sat down on a bench and stared up at the summit. She could see something colourful moving near the top and realised with a gasp, there were two climbers making their way up the side of the cliff face. She sighed with relief when she saw they had safety ropes tethering them to the rock, so she was not in danger of watching anyone fall to their death. Her own fear of heights made her feel slightly queasy watching them, so she turned her attention to the top of the rock where she could make out a small stone building topped by a crucifix. It could be reached via a footpath leading out of the town but Julia decided it was too hot to embark upon such a demanding climb, even if there were astounding views to be had.
She turned and looked around at the restaurants. They all looked quite busy and she suddenly felt a little reluctant to sit in one of them alone. She spied a shop that sold drinks and souvenirs and decided to just buy a bottle of water and walk down to the beach.
Julia emerged from one of the shady side streets into the full sun and was arrested by the glorious sight of a sandy beach; full of people sunbathing, swimming and strolling around. She sat down on a low wall that separated the beach from the road and looked out to sea.
The water looked inviting and she could tell it was still warm, as there were little children splashing around in the shallows, and some adults standing up to their waists in the sea. A strong but warm breeze propelled a windsurfer across the bay. Julia lifted her face to the sun and closed her eyes, revelling in the warmth. It’s October, she thought to herself, and couldn’t help but smile at the pleasure she took in being in a sunny warm climate, when it was windy and raining back home.
Her reverie was disturbed by the loud buzz of a moped that had stopped behind her. Julia opened her eyes and turned round to see a woman sitting astride a white Vespa. She wore pale pink jeans, a white shirt and a pink Chanel-inspired handbag with a long gilt strap across her body. Julia watched as the woman took off her helmet and shook her head and fluffed up her silver bobbed hair. Julia’s eyes widened with surprise when she realised the woman was probably in her late fifties, or maybe even older. She was enviably chic and confide
nt.
The woman lifted up the lid of the luggage box on the back of her scooter and popped her helmet inside. Then she strode across the road to a hairdresser’s salon and disappeared inside.
Well I never, thought Julia, looking down at her own ill-fitting jeans, boots, and handbag which somehow did not convey anywhere near as glamorous an image. She felt frumpy by comparison. She remembered what Marianne had said about going shopping and decided it was time to treat herself. She was still only forty nine, for a few more days anyway. It was no age at all.
Julia stood up and headed back towards the town centre. She had passed a couple of interesting shops on the way down to the beach, but she had not stopped to look inside. This time she felt fired up with a little more enthusiasm. Maybe she would never look as stylish as the older woman on the scooter, but perhaps she could meet her half-way.
Julia stood outside a small boutique and stared through the window. She had lost her nerve already. The clothes inside the store were flamboyant, colourful and designed for women with a little more confidence than Julia. She caught a glimpse of her own reflection staring back at her. She looked old and tired and her hair hung limply around her shoulders, wilting under the heat.
Julia stood up straight and held her head up; a marginal improvement. Her navy shirt hung from her frame, shapeless, baggy and probably not the right colour for her skin tone, or indeed the climate. Her boot-cut faded blue jeans were too loose and although she had pulled them in with a belt, the overall effect was not flattering. Grief had aged her, creating dark hollows under her eyes, deepened the lines on her face and dulled her once sparkling eyes.
She turned away from the shop in disgust and wandered up the steep road towards the Cathedral and then crossed the square and stepped inside the cool building. She stared up at the light filtering in through the stained glass windows, or at least what remained of them. Some of the stained glass had been repaired by cheaper plain glass. The once-grand Cathedral looked shabby and worn out, but Julia sat down in one of the pews, glad to be out of the hot sun. She watched an elderly woman shuffle past, genuflect in front of the altar and then kneel down to pray.
Julia stared at the altar, draped in a white cloth and buried under the weight of a variety of red flowers. The flowers reminded her of Duncan’s funeral and she bowed her head in sorrow.
She considered praying, but what was there to pray for? If there was a God, then Duncan would be safe in heaven. If there wasn’t, then what would be the point? What could she ask of God anyway? She wasn’t going to ask for a miracle – to turn back the clock, to before Duncan died. All she wanted was to feel less pain, and to find a reason to smile again.
The dusty incense-scented air caught in her throat and Julia started to cough. She retrieved a bottle of water from her handbag and took a sip. As she tipped her head back, she noticed the sun’s rays shining through the chancel window, highlighting a mural of the Virgin Mary weeping over the lifeless body of her son.
Julia stared at the mural for a moment. She thought of her own sons; two fine young men, who she had rather neglected for the last few months. They had lost their father, and in some ways they had lost their mother too. Julia sat up straight, took another sip of water and then stuffed the bottle back in her bag. This was madness, utter madness. She needed to get a grip and start thinking about other people besides herself.
She stood up and strode towards the door and then spotted a stand full of candles, some lit, some waiting to be lit. Julia fished in her pocket for some coins and put a donation in the honesty box beside the stand. She picked out a candle and lit it and stared into the flickering flame as it established itself; then set the candle down on the rack.
‘This is for you my love,’ she said quietly, ‘I’m sorry we didn’t get to come to Sicily together. You would have loved it here.’
Julia walked out of the Cathedral into the sunshine. She put on her sunglasses and marched across the square and over to one of the cafes. She took a seat under the shade of an umbrella and caught the eye of the waiter who weaved his way between the tables towards her, carrying a jug of iced water and a menu.
‘Buongiorno Signora,’
Julia ordered a glass of Sicilian lemonade and a bowl of seafood pasta which she enjoyed as she watched the world go by. Then she ordered a cappuccino and a pistachio gelato and made plans for her future. When she had finished the ice-cream, she reached into her handbag and took out a notebook and pen and wrote a list of things she needed to do.
In no particular order of priority she needed to get a worthwhile job, spend more time with her boys, do something useful for them with the money she had inherited from Duncan and his mother, sort out her own health and appearance, get back out into the world and stop being so miserable. Marianne had been right; Duncan would be horrified to see her like this.
Julia left the restaurant and decided to go back to the shops, only to find they were closed for a long siesta. They were not due to reopen for another two hours so she wandered down to the beach and decided to do a spot of sunbathing, albeit, wearing jeans and a shirt.
When it was time for the shops to reopen Julia headed back towards the town centre and found a shop that had an attractive dress in its window. She went in for a browse, taking her time, looking for something Marianne would approve of. She found it tucked away in the back of the shop, a bold wraparound dress in pinks and purples. She tried it on and it fitted. It had a 1950’s feel to it, with its fitted bodice, tight waist and flared skirt that ended at her knees. She was reluctant to take it off.
She bought the dress, and then found a pair of black skinny fit jeans in another shop, that fitted her more snugly than the ones she was wearing, and with a much more satisfying outline. She bought a red silk blouse to go with the jeans, a pair of stylish but comfortable gold sandals and a pair of red kitten heeled ankle boots. On a roll now, she turned her attention to handbags and found the perfect black and red leather bag in the same shop.
In another shop she found a skirt she liked, two more tops and a silk jersey shift dress in powder blue.
Weighed down by carrier bags, she discovered a branch of Sephora, and went inside hoping to find some make-up that might bring a more youthful bloom to her face. A young shop assistant, who spoke passable English, offered to try out some products on her and did a mini-makeover. The result was Julia looked rather more colourful than she normally would, but definitely an improvement. She bought most of the products the shop assistant had demonstrated on her, whilst forcing down the anxiety from spending over 100 euros on cosmetics.
She did a quick calculation in her head of how much she had spent so far and laughed nervously to herself. She carried her bags outside and made her way back to the square and sat down on a bench. She sent a text to Marianne.
“Just spent over 700 euros on clothes, shoes, makeup and a handbag I know you will try to steal from me!”
She held the phone in her hand expectantly, waiting for Marianne to reply, but Marianne must have been busy as the phone remained silent.
‘Julia!’
She looked up and saw Tony striding towards her.
‘Hi there, I’ve been shopping!’
‘You don’t say,’ he replied, grinning at her. ‘I’m just going back home if you want a lift, or have you rented a car yet?’
‘I haven’t got around to sorting that out yet, so I would love a lift thanks.’
Tony picked up some of the bags and cheekily peeked inside the carrier bag carrying the handbag and shoes.
‘Nice! Glad to see you’re putting some money into our ailing economy.’
‘I spent a fortune!’ Julia said cheerfully.
‘Well, I’m sure you deserve it.’
‘I think I do actually.’
12
When Julia returned to her villa she tried on all of her new clothes again, which looked even better on than they did in the shop. She posed in front of the mirror wearing the black jeans, red blouse and red
boots. She held the new handbag in the crook of her arm in the manner favoured by supermodels on the cover of magazines. She smiled back at her reflection, unused to the sight of someone who looked shiny and glamorous staring back at her.
‘What do you think, Duncan?’
She put the handbag down and walked over to the fridge and poured herself a glass of wine. She took it out onto the veranda and sat down to watch the evening sun sinking behind the mountains in the west.
She heard footsteps on the path and a moment later Tony appeared at the gate.
‘Julia? Sorry to disturb you, but I was just thinking about what you said in the car, about wishing you could have a go on a moped, like that woman you saw.’ Julia gestured for Tony to open the gate and come into the garden. ‘I have a moped in the garage which I hardly ever use, but it works fine. Maybe you’d like to try it out. You could borrow it whenever you want,’ he continued.
‘Really, could I? I would love to give it try. I’ve only ever ridden a motorbike off-road before, when my sons had trail bikes, but I’m sure I could manage a moped. Is it an automatic?’
‘Yes; it’s really easy to ride; just a twist and go kind of thing.’
Julia gestured to her glass of wine.
‘Well as you can see, it probably isn’t the best time to try it out now. But I would love to tomorrow, if that’s OK?’
Tony nodded.
‘Of course; just come over any time after 10. I’m not a morning person.’
‘Would you like a glass of wine?’ Julia said, as she made a move to go inside.
‘Well yes OK, that would be lovely thanks. Is that one of your new outfits? It looks jolly nice.’
‘It is. I’ve been trying on all my new stuff; what a big kid, I just had to wear something right away.’
They sat down on Julia’s veranda with their wine and some dishes of olives and nuts Julia had put out on the table between them.
‘You seem really bright and cheerful today. It’s lovely to see. It’s funny because Maria told me she saw you this morning and said you looked really sad.’
Learning to Dance Again Page 11