The Sunshine And Biscotti Club

by Jenny Oliver

  Peter looked at her and nodded.

  Eve shrugged a shoulder as if she’d said her bit.

  ‘You know you wouldn’t have Noah and Maisey though, don’t you? You know how it works? That it would have had to have been those specific sperm and eggs on that specific day, and it’s pretty unlikely that it would have happened like that if you’d gone off cycling round the world. What? Don’t look at me like that. I’m just saying. I’m just checking that you don’t believe it’s like fate or anything like that.’

  ‘Oh god.’ Eve shook her head. ‘You’re totally ruining the moment.’

  ‘What, with sense?’

  Out over the lake it started to thunder.

  ‘Yes,’ Eve said, exasperated.

  Peter half-smiled around his beer. ‘Well, you wanted a man, Eve. That’s what you’re going to get. Strong, practical sense.’

  Eve looked at the droplets of condensation on her gin and tonic, could feel the smile starting in her eyes, the bubble of comfortable happiness, the feeling that she could exhale again.

  LIBBY

  Libby was staring out of the window of the outhouse waiting for a lull in the rain so she could dash back to the hotel when Dex came running up the path from the forest. His hair was plastered to his head, his clothes soaked through. She pulled open the door for him and shouted, ‘You can come in here if you want.’

  There was no telling him twice. Dex shot in, shaking the rain off, swearing about the weather. ‘Who comes to Italy for the rain? There I was having this really nice morning reading my book and then suddenly it’s pissing it down. What’s it playing at?’

  Libby laughed. ‘Do you want a coffee?’

  ‘No, I want two fingers of brandy and an open fire,’ he said, pulling off his t-shirt and wringing it out into the sink. ‘Is that my jumper?’ he said, pointing to his workbench chair.

  Libby, side-tracked for a second by the sight of Dex’s bare, tanned chest and the muscles that Eve had been admiring on the beach, took a moment to nod that it was.

  ‘Brilliant!’ he said, going over to pull on his sweater.

  Libby stopped staring and poured cheap cooking brandy into two tumblers.

  ‘Ah, you’re an angel,’ he said as she handed him a glass, and sat down on Jimmy’s chair.

  Dex knocked it back in one gulp and then went to get the bottle. ‘So, what are you doing hiding out in here? Looking, if I might say, a tad glum.’

  Libby sighed a smile and handed Dex her phone so he could read the two emails from Jake.

  ‘Oh god, he is complete idiot,’ Dex said, handing her the phone back. ‘Only Jake would mess up coming to win you back and still manage to get something in about how great the snow is.’

  Libby laughed. ‘I know.’

  ‘He’s just selfish, Libby. Always has been.’

  She nodded.

  ‘What are you going to write back?’

  ‘Nothing,’ she said.

  Dex frowned.

  ‘I’m going to ring him. I can’t do this over email any more. It’s ridiculous.’

  Dex took a gulp of the brandy, involuntarily grimaced, and then said, ‘So what are you going to do—in the long term?’

  She toyed with the glass in her hand, swirling the liquid as she shrugged, and said, ‘Be on my own for a bit.’

  There was a pause. Dex nodded. The rain got heavier. Like ball bearings pelting the roof.

  ‘Well, if you ever decide it’s time for someone new,’ Dex said. ‘I am always available.’

  Libby laughed; then looking at him properly realised he was serious.

  ‘Yes, I know,’ said Dex, with a resigned shake of his head. ‘I have loved you for years, Libby. Probably since you interviewed me for the room.’

  Libby frowned. ‘No you haven’t.’ The brandy suddenly seemed really strong and the rain deafening.

  Dex shrugged. ‘It’s OK though. I keep it tucked away in my pocket. I just thought I’d tell you because I’d be annoyed if I didn’t. Then I’ll put it back again,’ he said with the softest smile she’d ever seen on Dex’s face.

  Libby didn’t know what to do.

  But it was OK because Dex did it for her by saying, ‘Right, let’s top these up, shall we?’ and sloshing some more brandy into the glass. ‘You can tell me exactly what you’re going to say to Jake. Use me as practice.’

  ‘I’m not really sure what I’m going to say yet.’

  ‘What do you think you’re going to say?’

  ‘I don’t know. Something about how he can’t think he can just come back and think he can slot right in.’

  ‘Yes,’ Dex nodded. ‘Good start.’

  ‘This is weird.’

  ‘No, no, keep going, it’s good.’

  ‘I don’t know what I’m going to say next, Dex. I want to tell him that I don’t think he should come back at all but I’m worried he’ll just jump in and bulldoze me with his way of doing things.’

  Dex looked at her for a second then took another swig of brandy, leant forward and said, ‘I’ll tell you what, Libby, if I was you I’d say something like … I am worth ten thousand times more than this, Jake. I am somebody magnificent who should be cherished and loved and laughed along with and there are a million good people out there better for me than you.’ He paused, traced a line on the work surface with his finger, then looked up and added, ‘Jake belittled the value of something priceless that was entrusted into his care. And that’s unforgivable. You have to say to him that you want to be with someone who is certain with all their heart that you are enough.’ He shrugged. ‘That’s what I’d say anyway,’ he said with a smile and then drained his brandy.

  Libby stared at him for a second, unable to reply, then had to look away because she could see in his eyes how much he wanted that someone to be him.

  JESSICA

  ‘Jessica!’

  She was standing on the boardwalk in the pouring rain, staring out at the lake. She’d decided not to go back to the hotel in case they were all together, chatting in the warmth of the bar, and she couldn’t face it just yet. This felt like a moment—one that perhaps she should mark with a baptism of torrential rain and lightning forking on the horizon.

  ‘Jessica!’ Bruno was walking towards her from the direction of the bar. ‘What are you doing standing in the rain?’

  She narrowed her eyes to focus through the sheets of misty water. ‘Nothing. I’m fine, I’m just watching.’

  ‘You’re soaking.’

  ‘I know, I’m fine. It’s only water.’

  He got closer, wiping the rain from his face and brushing it from his hair with his hand. ‘I like your style.’

  She shrugged as carelessly as she could, quite pleased with what he would assume to be her laissez faire attitude to weather.

  He stopped next to her; the sky rumbled with thunder, and they both looked out to the horizon where the forks of lightning were moving further away into the distance, the clouds still tumbling down with darkness.

  ‘You look very beautiful,’ he said, and she turned, realising his gaze had moved from the horizon to her profile, and did a little snort to say he was being preposterous.

  He shrugged to say that she was wrong and he was right, then he leant forward and kissed her.

  Jessica took a step back, startled. ‘No, no, no, you can’t do that. You can’t just walk up to someone and just kiss them. I might not want you to kiss me.’

  ‘We’ve kissed before.’

  ‘Yes, I know, but I might not want to kiss now,’ she said, caught off guard.

  He chuckled. ‘But you do.’

  ‘How do you know?’ she asked, disbelieving.

  ‘Because I see you. I see it in you. It’s obvious.’ His mouth lifted up into a cocky grin as he took a step back, clasping his hands behind his back.

  She shook her head. ‘That’s ridiculous,’ she said, ignoring the fact it had actually been quite exciting to be kissed so passionately in a rain storm on holiday. ‘And,’ she
went on, ‘a terrible answer. Feminists could write whole theses on why that’s such a terrible, presumptuous answer.’

  Bruno ran his hand through his hair to shake off some more of the rain and then said, ‘Are you a feminist?’ over another shudder of thunder.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘As am I,’ he said.

  Jessica rolled her eyes, ‘Oh please.’

  ‘Of course I am,’ he said. ‘I believe one hundred per cent that we are all equal. Why not? Where would the fun be otherwise?’

  She had to wipe her eyes to see him properly, could feel the water beading on her face and eyelashes and turning her hair to long corkscrew curls.

  ‘Jessica, I wholeheartedly want you to ravish me,’ he said, spreading his arms wide, eyes dancing behind sheets of rain.

  She bit down on a traitorous smile at the sight of him. ‘You are unbelievable.’

  ‘Come,’ he beckoned, ‘come with me to the beach. It’s the perfect weather for sex.’

  ‘What?’ Jessica choked.

  ‘Come on. You are thinking too much.’

  She paused. He was right. She was massively overthinking. She had never had sex on a beach and her hesitation made it obvious.

  Bruno frowned. ‘It’s the beach,’ he said. ‘Surely everyone has had sex on a beach?’

  She shook her head. What if someone saw? She glanced around at the deserted rain-soaked landscape.

  ‘Ha.’ He clapped his hands together. ‘Even better. Come, let me relieve you of this sad injustice.’

  She stood where she was, thinking about it. How did he do this? How did he make her feel like she had a little bird trapped inside her, fluttering, excited to be finally set free?

  ‘OK,’ she said, surprising both of them. ‘But that’s all this is. You know that? Yes. Just a holiday fling. No more.’

  He shrugged as if it was of no consequence to him either way. ‘If that feels better for you,’ he said.

  Jessica nodded, then, checking behind her to make sure no one was watching, stalked past him towards a gap in the rocks.

  LIBBY

  ‘The thing is, Jake, I want to be with someone who is certain with all their heart that I am enough. And for the moment,’ Libby paused, swallowed, then said, ‘I want that person to be me.’

  There was a silence at the end of the line. Then she heard Jake clear his throat before saying, ‘But what will I do?’

  Libby looked out at the rain-soaked view, at the water rolling round the ripe red cherries and the sparrows sipping from the puddle in the centre of the pink metal table. ‘You’ll be free.’

  ‘I suppose at a push I could go back to the army,’ he said.

  ‘Jake, listen to me,’ Libby said, taking a step outside, the damp grass springy under her feet. ‘You’ll be free. You can do whatever you like. That’s what you wanted.’

  ‘I’ve got friends in London. Friends in a lot of places actually,’ Jake said. ‘Maybe I should take a leaf out of Jimmy’s book and cycle round the world.’

  Libby watched the rain dripping from the cactus spikes of the prickly pear. Smelt the sharp citrus of the glistening fat lemons. She didn’t want to hear it. It was his story now, not hers. Maybe one day they might be friends but she didn’t want to be his friend right now. She wanted him to go back to London, to live in the flat, and for their lawyers to work out all the rest.

  One day there might even be time for forgiveness.

  For now, she had a lake to swim in, fresh lemons to pick, a blog to rebrand, and a hotel to renovate.

  EVE

  ‘So, back to the city you say?’ Peter sat back in his chair, the remains of the rain dripping down the corners of the awning into big puddles on the patio. ‘Interesting.’

  ‘It’s an idea,’ Eve said.

  ‘Or an elaborate ploy to get rid of the chickens?’ Peter replied.

  ‘The chickens can come too if they have to.’

  ‘Or we could just eat them.’

  ‘No.’ Eve leant forward and smacked him on the thigh. ‘We can’t eat them, they’re pets. They’ve had a hard life.’

  ‘No, we probably shouldn’t. I think they’d be quite tough as well. We’ll just have to hope that the whole battery-hen trauma finishes them off.’

  ‘I can’t believe we’re having this chat. This is meant to be a seminal romantic moment and we’re talking about eating our pet chickens.’

  Peter nodded. ‘I know, it’s barbaric. Do you want me to do something to make it more romantic? Go down on one knee or something?’

  ‘No, it’s all wet.’

  ‘I can if you like, I don’t mind. I’ve been doing yoga, I’ve become very supple,’ he said, moving as if to drop down to the floor.

  Eve frowned. ‘When have you been doing yoga?’

  ‘At work. They have a teacher who comes in once a week to de-stress the kids and there’s a staff lesson afterwards.’

  Giulia came out to clear away the empties and asked if they wanted more drinks.

  ‘We’re going to be drunk at this rate,’ Eve said, ordering another gin and tonic.

  ‘It’s raining on holiday. What else is there to do?’

  ‘I didn’t know that you did yoga.’

  ‘No.’ Peter shook his head. ‘I didn’t tell you, I don’t know why. Too busy?’

  ‘You should tell me stuff like that,’ Eve said, looking seriously at him.

  ‘I know. But I’m a man. We don’t do small talk.’

  She rolled her eyes. ‘You can’t use that as an excuse for everything now, you know?’

  Peter laughed.

  Giulia came out with their refills.

  ‘I want to hear your trivia,’ Eve said when she’d gone.

  Peter looked at her for a second, sitting back in his chair. ‘OK.’

  Suddenly a bit shy, Eve took a sip of her drink and looked across at the ferocious sky. When she turned back to Peter she said, ‘Go on then.’

  ‘What? Do some yoga?’

  ‘No, get down on one knee.’

  Peter glanced around him. ‘There might be people watching.’

  ‘Who?’ said Eve, sweeping her arm to take in the empty tables and the drenched terrace. ‘You suggested it.’

  ‘OK, OK, I’m going down,’ he said, putting his beer back on the table and sliding himself onto the rain-soaked floor.

  Next minute he had her hand in his and, gazing adoringly up at her, said, ‘Will you marry me, Eve?’

  Eve sniggered. ‘I already have.’

  ‘I know,’ Peter said before pushing himself up so he could cup her face in his hands. ‘And it makes me the luckiest man alive,’ he said looking down at her, blue eyes sparkling, before leaning in to kiss her with lips that tasted of beer and rain with the sound of her heart thumping in her chest almost as loud as the cicadas.

  ‘I read your script by the way,’ she said when he had sat back down, her hand held tight in his like he was never letting go.

  ‘And?’ He looked like Noah again, vulnerably nervous.

  ‘You’re funnier than I gave you credit for.’

  She saw the corner of his mouth tilt. ‘You think I’m funny?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Well, you should have just said that from the start. All of this was completely unnecessary …’ He waved a hand as if the last hour or so was nothing. ‘You really think I’m funny?’

  She nodded.

  Peter’s mouth stretched into the widest smile. ‘She thinks I’m funny,’ he said to Giulia, who had come out to wipe the rain off the tables; she gave him a look like she couldn’t care less. ‘She thinks I’m funny,’ he said again to himself, and Eve watched him as he watched her and he said, ‘I love you more than anyone else in the world.’ Then added, ‘Except maybe the kids, but they’re half me so that stands to reason.’

  LIBBY

  When Miles knocked on Libby’s door that night—all dark, brooding eyes and self-assured certainty—she thought just how easy it would be to push the door open a
nd let him stalk inside.

  But, unlike other nights, she stood instead with the door ajar and said, ‘Miles, this isn’t right. It’s been very lovely, but it’s not right.’

  He raised a dark brow, surprised.

  ‘We’re just using each other,’ she said. ‘You don’t fancy me.’

  ‘I fancy you,’ he said.

  ‘Not like this you don’t,’ she said, and he frowned. ‘We’re never going to be together and I don’t want to ruin us as friends.’

  Miles listened, the hint of a smile on his lips.

  Libby looked down at the floor, at her bare feet on the newly polished boards. ‘The thing is, while it’s been really fun, it’s messing with what’s starting to become clear to me, about my life and stuff,’ she said, pushing her hair back from her face. ‘That sounds bad, but it’s not bad. It’s been like this lovely bubble. But I think now it has to end. Now it’s all a bit more real.’

  Miles nodded. ‘It would end tomorrow though, wouldn’t it?’ he said. ‘I go back to the States and that’ll be it done.’

  ‘I know,’ she said. ‘But I feel like if it doesn’t happen tonight then there’s more chance of us just being friends. All of us. That’s what I want it to end on.’

  Miles bit down on his bottom lip, stared at her for a second, and then nodded. ‘Fair enough,’ he said. ‘That’s a good point.’

  Part of her was desperate to ask him in. Just to smell him. He smelt so good. She remembered the teeth clashing and the taste of his lips. ‘Are you mad?’

  ‘Seriously?’ He made a face. ‘Of course I’m not mad. Just, maybe a bit frustrated,’ he added with a laugh.

  She smiled.

  He reached up and touched her hair. ‘Lib, this was one of the best things that could have happened to me this holiday.’

  ‘Really?’ she said, surprised. ‘I’ve felt really guilty about Flo.’

  ‘No, don’t.’ He shook his head. ‘I’ve known I’ve had to move on for a while. In a funny kind of way I think she’d have approved.’

  Libby snorted a laugh. ‘I’m not so sure.’

  He smiled. ‘Maybe not. But no, I think she would. No, it’s good. And good to end it as well. Very grown up, Libby. Well done.’