Violet raised her face to the sun and watched an aircraft slice through the cobalt-blue sky, leaving a fluffy white vapour trail in its wake.
She sighed. It felt like a holiday just being in this courtyard. She really had to do something with her garden, if only to try to make it as relaxing as this.
And it was nice to just sit there without the hotline ringing or having the burden of the ‘big day’ bear down on her. The wedding was creeping ever closer and the budget was increasing daily. She didn’t believe that expensive cars were required to ferry them about everywhere. And did she really need the most expensive and extravagant flowers in her bouquet and at the reception?
Violet inhaled the scent from a pot of freesias nearby. They were one of her favourite flowers. Why couldn’t she be brave and tell Sebastian that she would rather have freesias instead? After all, she would be carrying the bouquet.
She realised she was going to have to tackle the issue of the wedding at some point. Things couldn’t continue to spiral out of control. She was dreading the conversation with Sebastian but feeling a little stronger too, these days. Perhaps it was time to speak up.
Nonna returned, bearing a tray with two glasses of cold water and a plate with various wedges of cheese placed on it.
Violet took the drink from Nonna and thanked her, once more in Italian. Then she waited patiently whilst Nonna sliced off various bits of cheese. A piece was held out for Violet to try.
‘Parmigiano,’ she was told.
Violet smiled and took the small wafer-thin slice of cheese. It tasted lovely and strong. She looked at Nonna and smiled, wondering whether to give her a thumbs up or not. But Nonna was shrugging her shoulders, as if to say it was nothing special. Then she handed over another piece of cheese.
‘Pecorino,’ she said and gave a noise like a sheep’s bleat. Violet was a bit stunned until she understood what Nonna was getting at. It was cheese made from sheep’s milk, she guessed.
This cheese also melted in her mouth. Why were the Italians so good at this kind of thing? And why was cheese such a sin for dieters? It just wasn’t fair.
Finally, the last piece. Nonna didn’t say anything this time, so Violet took the slice with a nod of thanks. The taste exploded in her mouth. The other cheeses had been great but this was mecca. This was fantastic.
She nodded frantically at Nonna, who was looking smug.
‘Parmigiano Reggiano. Reggiano,’ she repeated with emphasis.
Violet understood. It had to be reggiano, whatever that meant. Without that, it was nothing.
Violet mimed the shape of a wedge with her hands.
‘Sì,’ said Nonna.
But they took their time over their cool drinks, enjoying the companionable silence. Until Violet glanced over to see Nonna nodding and smiling at her.
Nonna began to speak in Italian and Violet quickly picked up on the name Marco. She tried not to gape as she recognised the Italian word for woman amongst the quick sentences. Nonna seemed to be talking about Mark and his girlfriends. From the tone of Nonna’s voice, she obviously hadn’t approved of many of them.
Nonna glanced once more at Violet’s engagement ring. Violet braced herself for the bad-luck talk but Nonna was rummaging around in her apron pocket. To Violet’s surprise, she drew out a black and white photograph and passed it across the table.
Violet studied the photograph. It was of a bride and groom, many decades ago.
‘Gino,’ said Nonna, pointing to the handsome groom, who was smiling at the person taking the photograph. Then she pointed at the bride and then to herself. It was Nonna’s wedding day.
‘Bella,’ said Violet, describing Nonna the bride.
Violet peered closer. Nonna was staring up at her groom with such a look of love in her eyes that Violet found her own eyes pricked with tears.
As she went to return the photograph, Nonna grabbed Violet’s hand and started gabbling away in Italian again. Violet didn’t understand every word but gathered that Nonna loved Gino very much. That they had had a very happy marriage. That the love was everything.
They sat in silence for a little while longer before Violet exaggerated looking at her watch, indicating she had to head back to the office. Back in the shop, Nonna sliced off a lovely big chunk of Parmigiano Reggiano. Violet couldn’t wait to shave a few pieces off to try out with the summer spaghetti she had seen in a recipe book.
There was a brief tussle about the money, which Violet won by holding out the change until Nonna had to accept it. She not only received the usual kisses from the old lady as she left but also a warm hug.
It wasn’t until Violet arrived back at the office that she discovered that Nonna had actually got the last word. There were a few extra packets in her shopping bag apart from the parmesan. Nonna had popped in some olives, tomatoes and a pepper which, when added to pasta, tasted wonderful.
That evening, Violet sat on her sunny patio and ate her delicious pasta with a small glass of wine. Somebody somewhere was having a barbeque and the sound of laughter drifted into her garden. Birds were singing in the late sunshine and the sun was still warm on her face.
She finished her pasta and thought briefly about Mark, wondering if this was the kind of thing he was eating in Italy and whether he would be eating alone like her or whether he would have company. Female company.
She actually blushed, even though she was sitting alone and he was hundreds of miles away. What on earth was she doing thinking about Mark of all people? It must have been all that food. That was all.
Chapter Thirty-four
‘I THINK THIS will do,’ said Maggie, throwing the travel rug and her beach towel down on to the sand.
At the last meeting, the girls had decided to head out to the seaside on the Bank Holiday Monday. Unfortunately Edward had a charity cricket match on that day but at least it meant that they could have a good gossip and slip the straps down on their tops without embarrassing him.
The weather had still not broken and the sun was blazing down as they spread out on the beach. The beach was busy but not so crowded that they were hemmed in on all sides. Children laughed as they ran in and out of the waves lapping at the shore. It was a perfect summer’s day.
Violet stared in wonder at the others’ summer clothes. They were all so confident in their shorts and little tops, even though they were big like she was. Well, she corrected herself, none of them were as big as they were. Violet had lost two stone, as had Lucy. Edward was nearly up to a four-stone loss. Kathy and Maggie had each lost two and a half stone as well. The pounds were coming off now that everyone seemed to have found their healthy-eating groove. They had worked out that they had lost a whole person’s weight between them.
‘These shorts are getting big,’ said Lucy with a grin. She held out the waistband to see how much gap there was between her skin and the material. ‘And I only bought them at the beginning of the month.’
‘Back to Primark this week then,’ said Maggie, smiling back at her daughter.
The sun was blazing hot and everyone began to strip down to their swimwear. Everyone except Violet.
‘Aren’t you hot?’ asked Kathy, as she lay back on her beach towel in her black swimsuit.
‘I’m OK,’ said Violet quickly.
‘I love my new swimming cossie,’ said Lucy, stripping off her T-shirt to reveal a bright blue tankini and matching bottoms.
‘Is that because it’s a smaller size?’ asked Kathy.
‘Size twelve and baggy,’ said Lucy, grinning, before she lay back on her towel. ‘Soon to be a size ten bikini.’
Lucy was thrilled with her quick progress. In the old days she had associated food with happiness but now there were extra delights which didn’t involve sugar, such as all the fashion opportunities opening up in front of her. She was even beginning to break free of black and colours were making an appearance in her wardrobe.
Maggie looked across to Violet. ‘Haven’t you got a costume with you, love?’
> Violet shook her head. She was too ashamed to admit she didn’t even own a swimsuit.
‘I used to hate undressing on the beach too,’ said Maggie, guessing why Violet was uncomfortable. ‘But a few years ago I couldn’t stand it any longer and had to begin peeling off some clothes. Mind you, over two stones off and I feel better about my body than I did.’
Despite her own two-stone loss, Violet didn’t feel any different about her body.
‘The sun’s lovely,’ said Lucy, putting on her sunglasses.
‘I bet it’s hot at Edward’s cricket tournament,’ said Kathy, stretching out on her towel.
‘Was it an all-day thing?’ asked Maggie.
‘Till at least six o’clock,’ said Kathy. ‘Poor Edward will have fried by then in this heat. Did I tell you what a great job he did with my kitchen cupboards?’
‘You did. And did he fix that shower for you as well?’
‘Yes, it was so kind of him.’
It had been the second Sunday that Edward went to Kathy’s flat. She had tried to talk him out of it, telling him that he wouldn’t have enough time and that she could live with the few tatty areas in her flat.
‘Actually, I have a sneaky reason for coming to see you,’ Edward had told her.
Kathy’s heart had begun to thump a little harder.
‘Did you know you burn calories even whilst doing DIY?’ he said, breaking into a grin.
Kathy switched on an automatic smile and tried to ignore her confused feelings.
She had cooked him another meal; this time it had been griddled steak, salad and healthy chips. She found she was beginning to look forward to his company on Sundays and dreaded the day he decided he was bored of her.
‘He’s a good man,’ said Maggie.
‘Yeah,’ said Lucy. ‘He’d make someone a wonderful boyfriend.’
Kathy rose up on to her elbows and found the three other women looking at her with grins on their faces.
‘Shut up,’ she said, and lay back on the towel. ‘Anyway, I’ve told you. I’m soooo over men.’
‘So what are you telling us? You’re a lesbian?’ said Lucy.
‘No. I just seem to attract only the idiot members of the species. I know it’s my fault.’ She looked over to Violet. ‘You’re lucky. You’re one of those nice quiet women that men fall for. I’ve got a gob bigger than the Thames on me. I’m not one of those dainty types.’
‘I wasn’t always quiet—’ Violet stopped suddenly as she realised her statement was true.
‘What happened?’ asked Maggie.
Violet gave her a small smile. ‘It’s too nice a day to talk about depressing stuff.’
‘Rubbish,’ said Kathy, sitting up. ‘It’s only us. Get talking.’
And then it will stop me talking about Edward, Kathy told herself.
Violet sighed but they waited patiently until she was able to speak.
‘I had a lovely childhood. Normal stuff with parents, lots of friends and parties. It was great.’
‘But then you lost your mum and dad,’ said Maggie.
Violet nodded. ‘My aunt was so weird. I put on so much weight eating her stodgy food and getting ever more miserable. I was in my teens, I needed a bra and all that kind of girly stuff explaining, but she didn’t really talk to me. So I had to wear a vest until I stole some money out of her purse to buy myself a bra. I used to wash it in the bath and dry it in my room so she wouldn’t know.’
‘OK, so she didn’t know about bringing up a girl,’ said Kathy. ‘But was she never kind? Did she ever talk to you?’
‘Only about religion. It was all thee and thou and grace before meals.’
‘I bet the other girls were right bitches to you,’ said Lucy, speaking from experience.
Violet nodded. ‘They were awful. I was fat and wore old-fashioned hand-me-downs. Great big ghastly kaftan things.’
‘So in the end, you just withdrew into yourself,’ said Kathy.
Violet nodded again.
‘Couldn’t you have escaped to university?’ asked Maggie.
‘No money,’ said Violet. ‘I was good at languages and was desperate to study and then travel. But it was no use. My aunt said it was an extravagance and they’d already spent so much money feeding and clothing me, it was time for me to get a job and get out. Basically she’d had enough of me by then.’
Maggie shook her head in dismay.
‘So I went to work and, as soon as I could, I moved out into a tiny flat.’ Violet found that now she was talking she could barely stop. ‘My uncle unexpectedly died of a heart attack a few years ago and left me a small amount as an inheritance. Enough to put a deposit down on my lovely little house. My aunt never came to visit. But within a year she was dead from cancer. I didn’t grieve. She had never shown me any love. Had never hugged me. She was a horrid woman.’
There was a short silence whilst they digested everything she had said.
Suddenly Violet smiled. ‘But something weird happened, after she died. It turns out that the house was worth a bit of money and all the money comes to me next year when I’m thirty.’
‘Cool!’ said Lucy. ‘You could do all that travelling now.’
‘Or go back to university and do your studies,’ said Kathy.
‘What do you want to do with the money?’ asked Maggie.
Violet realised that she wanted to do all those things and more. But instead of telling them, she shrugged her shoulders. ‘Sebastian says it’s sensible to put the money down on a house.’
Lucy frowned. ‘But you’ve already got a nice house.’
Violet didn’t know what to say so she buried her face in the coolbag she had brought with her and began to unpack the healthy lunch she had insisted on preparing for them.
The others oohed and aahed at the aromas and colours of the food. Violet had brought individual bowls of salads for each of them. Crisp lettuce had been mixed with slices of plump tomatoes, red onion, black olives and crumbled feta cheese. A small drizzle of extra virgin olive oil made the leaves glisten.
‘What’s the black stuff?’ asked Lucy, pointing at a piece of discoloured feta.
‘Balsamic vinegar,’ Violet replied. ‘You’ll like it. It adds a nice flavour. There’s also breadsticks to munch on and some fresh melon and strawberries to finish with.’
‘Fantastic,’ sighed Kathy, picking up a fork.
‘This is lovely,’ Maggie said, in between mouthfuls.
Violet had to agree that her cooking skills were improving. The quality of ingredients helped. She had picked up balsamic vinegar that weekend from the delicatessen, making sure that the label specified ‘aceto balsamico tradizionale di Modena’, which meant that it had been made to the traditional methods and was the real thing.
Of course, all this Mediterranean food tasted better in hot sunshine. But her senses, especially taste, were being roused from their slumber by all the new flavours she was now treating her body to.
They were all sucking on the juicy strawberries when Maggie sighed. ‘Maybe I should go to university,’ she said with a wistful tone in her voice.
‘What would you study, Mum?’ asked Lucy.
‘I don’t know,’ Maggie said. ‘But I’ve got to do something. You’re all grown up and off to London. I’m going stir crazy at home by myself.’
She was keeping occupied with her exercise but knew it wasn’t enough to satisfy her.
‘Can’t you go back to work?’ asked Violet.
Maggie shook her head. ‘Gordon’s very proud that his business does well enough that I don’t need to work. So he feels better but that leaves me with nothing to do.’
‘I know!’ said Kathy, sitting up with a start. ‘I’m going to be on my own in the shop when Mavis retires at the end of the week. But the Alzheimer’s Society says I can go on taking care of the shop if I can bring in some more business. Why don’t you come and help? I can’t work in the shop on my own. Not that there’s any customers most of the time. But think what
a laugh we’ll have!’ Her face fell. ‘But there’s no money in it, I’m afraid. It’s all volunteer work.’
‘Are you sure?’ asked Maggie.
‘God, yes! I’ve got so many plans to get the shop making more money but it’s impossible with Mavis there. She didn’t even want us to have an electronic till installed.’
‘OK,’ said Maggie, with a nod. ‘You’re on.’
‘Mum! You’ve got a job!’ said Lucy, grinning.
‘Great!’ said Kathy. ‘Let’s celebrate with an ice-cream!’
‘No!’ cried everyone else.
‘I meant a healthy, low-calorie ice-lolly, of course!’ Kathy leapt up. ‘Who’s helping?’
‘Me,’ said Lucy.
Violet and Maggie stayed behind and looked out to the waves.
‘I love the sound of the sea,’ said Maggie.
Violet nodded. ‘My boss is Italian and has been telling me about the sea near the village where he comes from.’
‘Oh, the Med is lovely. As warm as a bath and that clear you can see the fish swimming in it. You’ve never seen it?’
‘Not yet.’
And Violet realised how much it pained her not to have travelled by the age of twenty-nine.
‘How’s the sneaky diet working?’ she asked Maggie.
‘Brilliant! Thirty-four pounds off and counting! But I’ve been thinking that I really need to talk to Gordon. He’s got to understand about me getting fitter. If he doesn’t like me losing weight, then it’s tough. It’s my body.’
Violet nodded in agreement, realising that she ought to be thinking the same way.
They sat in comfortable silence, watching families dash in and out of the sea. People were playing football on the sand. The beach was getting busy as people realised that it was perfect summer weather.
‘Here you go,’ said Lucy, coming back with Kathy and the ice-lollies.
‘I even asked the bloke the calorie count of each one,’ said Kathy. ‘The ice-cream man wasn’t impressed but we’ve got fruit lollies to cool us down.’
The Desperate Bride’s Diet Club Page 20