‘Floriana told me that there was another girl who worked in the bar – Maria, was it?’
‘Yes Maria has a day off today, but she will be in tomorrow. We tag team so that the bar is always staffed and we are usually both here when it is busy at the weekends. So, Libby, what brings you here to Positano? Travelling?’
‘Kind of, I suppose. I’m here to practise my Italian, though your English is so good that I feel bad trying to use it on you!’
Luca immediately switched to Italian, ‘In that case from now on I shall speak only Italian to you.’
‘Thank you, that’ll be a great help,’ replied Libby in her best attempt to do the same. ‘In October I am starting a new job in a law firm, where I will be required to deal with Italian clients and colleagues from our Italian offices, hence the need for me to get in lots of practice. As you can probably tell, my Italian is a bit rusty!’
‘Nonsense. It’s fantastic! How do you speak such good Italian in the first place? It’s very unusual to find British people who can…’
‘I’ve always loved Italy. I did a degree in Italian and spent a year living in Bologna,’ explained Libby. ‘But I never use it in London and so I’ve forgotten quite a lot.’
‘So you have the summer off before serious life begins?’ asked Luca, his eyes sparkling mischievously.
‘Exactly! I have to make the most of it!’ laughed Libby.
‘I will do my very best to help you,’ grinned Luca, with more than just a hint of suggestion in his eyes.
Oh dear, thought Libby. This could be dangerous…
As the evening passed by, Libby had another beer and tried her best to read an abandoned copy of La Corriere della Sera newspaper that had been left on the bar. She finally got around to checking her emails, reading one from her sister Helen who had recently arrived in Hong Kong. She chatted a bit more to Luca between serving customers, and Floriana came to talk to her before going up to her apartment. Giulia also popped in every now and again. Libby remembered Giulia’s warning. She must know Luca pretty well, having worked with him for so long. She would be wise to listen to her advice.
At about ten o’clock, Libby said her goodnights and headed up to bed, keen to get an early night before her 5.30 a.m. alarm call. She felt exhausted after her day of travelling and the influx of new information that she had received. She brushed her teeth and washed her face in the bathroom next door, then went into her room to change into the oversized shirt that served as her pyjamas. She imagined she was back down on the beach at Spiaggia del Fornillo, the sun beating down on her as the sound of the sea lapped the shore. Before she knew it she had drifted off.
Chapter Three
Libby had a deep and dreamless sleep, waking just before her alarm feeling full of energy and joie de vivre. She jumped out of bed and opened her curtains, stretching in the morning sunlight. It was a wonderful novelty rising each morning to a clear blue sky. She had a quick shower and brushed her teeth before pulling on a pair of denim shorts and a T-shirt. As she made her way downstairs, she listened for signs of life in the rooms and dormitories that she passed by. Apart from the sound of someone using the shower, it was all pretty quiet. Downstairs, she opened up the blinds that covered the windows and unlocked the front door. She opened the door that led out on to the terrace and stepped out into the dry heat. She wandered over to the railing, spending several minutes soaking up the view. The sea gleamed softly under the rose-tinged dawn. She could smell the sweet scent of the sprawling honeysuckle that covered one whitewashed wall of the terrace.
Floriana appeared moments later. She was going to join Libby on her morning shift. As the guests trickled down, Floriana and Libby made them breakfast, answered their questions, cleared the plates and manned the phone. The first set of new arrivals came at around eight o’clock, and Libby watched carefully as Floriana checked them in, chatting happily to her guests as she scanned their passports and showed them to their room. Nothing too tricky, she was relieved to see. This kind of work was right up her street.
Libby enjoyed chatting to all the guests of so many different nationalities. She took careful note of the recommendations Floriana gave out, writing them in her note pad so that she would have them at hand to pass on if Floriana wasn’t around. A group of Belgians, dressed head to toe in suitable hiking gear, asked for a recommended walking route. Floriana gave them a map and explained that her favourite was called ‘Il Sentiero degli Dei’ or ‘The Walk of the Gods’. It was a long and winding footpath that connected the two hilltop towns of Agerola and Nocelle, just above Positano, offering jaw-dropping views of the coastline and spectacular scenery.
It all sounded so beautiful that Libby couldn’t wait to start exploring on her days off. There was just so much to do: incredible walks, day trips to the picturesque towns of Amalfi and Ravello, boat trips to the islands of Capri and Ischia; even Pompeii wasn’t far away. She wanted to find out more about the ancient Roman city. She was ashamed of her lack of knowledge about Pompeii, despite having done a degree in Italian, and was determined to ensure she finally made it there this time around.
‘Which is your favourite, Capri or Ischia?’ Libby asked Floriana that afternoon. She had spent her lunch break sitting on the terrace, sunbathing and reading about the islands in her Lonely Planet guide.
‘Ooh, that’s quite a tough question. Let me see… I think I prefer Ischia, in a way. Capri is stunning but it can be a little overcrowded. The Grotta Azzurra is beautiful, you should definitely visit it, but personally I prefer Ischia.’
‘I definitely want to visit them both at some point,’ said Libby. ‘I’m so excited about all the exploring I can do.’
‘You should get Luca to take you. His best friend has a boat and they are always going on excursions. Luca?’ she shouted in the vague direction of the bar. He had arrived several minutes before and was setting up for the day.
‘At your service, Floriana,’ he appeared, giving an over-the-top bow, a tea towel draped over one bulging bicep.
‘I was just telling Libby here that you must take her to visit the islands next time you go out with Gian Matteo.’
‘Certainly! We would love to have you on board,’ he winked, smiling broadly.
‘That’s very kind of you,’ Libby smiled back at him; it was hard to resist his infectious enthusiasm.
Just then a fresh-faced girl let herself in through the front door.
‘Buongiorno tutti,’ she smiled at the room.
‘Ciao Maria,’ said Floriana.
‘Buongiorno bella! Come stai?’ asked Luca.
‘Bene, bene, grazie,’ said Maria. ‘It’s so hot out there today, though; I’m drenched! Thank god for the air conditioning in here.’
‘Maria, this is Libby, she’s here for the summer,’ explained Floriana.
‘Pleased to meet you,’ said Maria with a broad smile.
‘Piacere,’ replied Libby, shaking her hand. Maria and Luca went through to the bar to continue setting up.
The bar opened at around four o’clock, and soon all around was the sound of chatter and laughter as a large group of American backpackers gathered there, chinking bottles of beer and reliving their recent escapades in Rome. Libby laughed along with them as she listened to their conversation through the open door. Travelling was such a carefree time in anyone’s life, it did wonders for the spirit to be around so many people just living in the moment; not bogged down by doom and gloom and the daily grind. She loved being surrounded by people who were taking so much pleasure from their surroundings, just as she was. Not for the first time she wished that she could apply the same mentality to her ‘normal’ life in London as she did to her travels. Whenever she arrived back home and established a routine for herself, she began to feel claustrophobic and trapped. She knew she had to learn to take pleasure in the small things; to make herself happy no matter where she was or what she was doing. Her habit of throwing in the towel when boredom struck to take herself on holiday wasn’t sustainable
, and she couldn’t keep chopping and changing jobs forever.
The clock ticked closer to six o’clock, and soon enough Giulia came sauntering in through the door. Her lips were stained a deep berry red today, her hair pinned back at the nape of her neck. She really was very beautiful. Libby was embarrassed at herself for feeling a pang of jealousy. She reminded herself about Giulia’s difficult circumstances, caring for her mother; it was amazing how Giulia managed to remain so upbeat and positive.
‘Evening,’ said Giulia brightly. ‘I’m here to relieve you. How was your first day?’
‘I loved it, thanks,’ said Libby. ‘Though I have no doubt messed something up one way or another.’
‘Don’t worry – if you have, we’ll fix it. Luckily Tonio and Flori are pretty relaxed. And, this is Italy… balancing the books is important, but not so important that they can’t turn a blind eye to the odd slip-up.’
‘Well, let me know if you notice any glaring mistakes,’ said Libby.
‘Will do.’
Free to spend the evening how she wished, Libby made her way down into the village for a walk. This time she turned left at the piazza, and wound her way along a set of crisscross steps that twisted and turned back and forth, eventually coming out on a tiny ledge overlooking the sea. She found a deeper set of steps that cut through the rock and curved back around to the right, bringing her out on to the far side of the main beach. A group of bars lay further to the east and she could hear the gentle thudding of rhythmic music playing out over the sea. The sun was like a drop of molten lava finding cool relief as it eased its way, inch by inch, into the sea. Libby sat on the bottom step and watched the sunset, admiring the effect of the changing light on the clouds, tinged first orange, then gold and eventually pink. The sea reflected each changing shade like a mirror. She could never grow bored of watching the sun rise and set. It was a luxury that was denied to her in London. In the city you were either at work or asleep, and if you did happen to be outside at the right moment, or near a window, you would undoubtedly have a towering block of concrete or brick blocking your view.
It was this slight sense of claustrophobia that had stopped her from settling down like all her friends had done. Whenever she felt close to having a stable relationship, or a steady job, she seemed to panic, and before she knew it she had run away, taking refuge in the transient life of the traveller. It was what drove Angus crazy. He was constantly telling her she needed to figure out her priorities and stop jumping ship the moment things got tough. She wished she could be more like everyone else, but she couldn’t seem to help it. She had periods of self-doubt and panic that she was missing out, but it didn’t make it easier for her to change. She had promised herself at the beginning of her law conversion that this time things would be different. She was going to sort her life out once and for all – get a proper job, forge a successful career, have a relationship, maybe even get married and have children one day. She wanted to prove to Angus that she could do it, and to herself, of course.
Later, having enjoyed a delicious bowl of pasta at a trattoria on the sea front, Libby walked back up to La Casetta. She made her way to the bar. Luca poured her a Peroni as soon as he saw her come in and offered it to her as she sat down.
‘Thanks Luca.’
‘Piacere,’ he said. ‘Where have you been?’
‘I just went down to the beach to watch the sunset.’
‘Beautiful, eh?’
‘Stunning. I ate at Luigi’s on the sea front and went for a little walk around town.’
‘Good choice,’ laughed Luca. ‘Luigi’s was set up by my great-uncle!’
‘Really?’ Libby smiled. She supposed there were a lot of family connections within Positano.
‘I’ll take you there some time and introduce you. He’s a real character; he has so many stories about this place.’
‘I’d love that,’ said Libby. ‘You are going to be my tour guide by the sounds of it.’
‘Well, I don’t do that for just anyone, I can tell you,’ laughed Luca. ‘Only the most beautiful women.’
Libby couldn’t help laughing at his outrageous flirting. ‘I bet you say that to all the girls.’
‘No, no! Only the genuinely deserving. And you, Libby, are extremely beautiful.’
‘So… I take it you don’t have a girlfriend?’ Libby cut to the chase.
‘No, no, no. What do you take me for?’ asked Luca. ‘Who would want monogamy?’
‘Lots of people,’ Libby retorted. ‘Most people, in fact, I’d say.’
‘Monogamy is an unnatural state of affairs, if you ask me. Sooner or later, someone gets bored, they see someone they like and… ecco! They have cheated. Heartbreak follows, everyone is upset – a recipe for disaster.’ She thought of Angus’s reaction if he were to hear this and could imagine him rolling his eyes in despair.
‘Well, when you put it like that, it does sound fairly depressing I admit.’ Perhaps there was still time for her to have some fun before reality kicked in…
‘Exactly.’
‘But don’t some women refuse to be with you unless they are in a relationship?’
‘True. So in my eyes, honesty is the best policy. I always say from the start to any women I like that I can’t promise anything. Though, I must say, when I fall in love, I want to spend all my time with that one person, it’s just… sooner or later I fall out of love and then…’ He tailed off, looking rueful.
‘Sounds as if you know yourself pretty well,’ Libby said. She knew this should put her off him but, on the plus side, could Luca be the perfect holiday fling? There would clearly be absolutely no strings attached; just a bit of fun during the summer.
At that moment Maria came in from the back with a box full of bottles that looked twice her weight. ‘Maria, give that to me! It’s far too heavy for you to be carrying!’ Luca scolded her.
‘Thanks Luca,’ said Maria, panting slightly from the exertion. ‘We need to change the barrel on the beer, too – it’s about to run out.’
‘I’ll go and do that now. Are you OK here?’ he asked.
‘Sure,’ said Maria. She poured herself a glass of water. The Americans had all gone out on the town, suitably fuelled with beer, and the customers in the bar were disappearing in dribs and drabs into the cool evening. Maria and Libby chatted for a while.
‘So Maria, what do you do?’ asked Libby. ‘Apart from working here.’
‘I’m a student,’ said Maria. ‘This is my holiday job – I work here during my vacations from uni.’
‘What do you study?’
‘Hospitality.’
‘Cool, which university?’
‘Naples.’
‘Do you like it?’
‘Yeah, it’s okay. I’m only halfway through my degree, but so far so good.’
‘And what do you hope to do afterwards?’
‘I want to come to the UK actually. I’m going to try and get a job in a hotel or restaurant in London, or maybe Edinburgh.’
‘I’m amazed that everyone wants to leave this place,’ Libby told her. ‘It’s such a dream here. I was saying the same thing to Tonio and Floriana the other day.’
‘It’s all right in the summer, that’s for sure,’ Maria told her. ‘But in the winter, it’s completely dead. It’s hard to earn a living without the tourists in town. You are so lucky in London; there are so many opportunities.’ It was beginning to occur to Libby that perhaps she had been quite naïve in her assumptions about what life was like in Positano. She wondered if there was ever such a thing as a perfectly balanced life. Did sacrifice and enjoyment always lie side by side?
Libby spent the rest of the evening chatting to Luca and Maria, on and off between serving customers and clearing up the bar. They were a funny pair. Luca obviously looked on Maria as he would a little sister, and she clearly adored him, though perhaps in less of a fraternal way on her part. At about ten thirty, Libby said goodnight to them both and went to find out how Giulia was getting on. S
he hadn’t come across any mistakes from the information Libby had entered on to the system that afternoon, which was a relief to hear.
Libby made her way up to bed and fell on to her mattress in a heavy slump, her head spinning with Italian phrases, a roll call of all the faces she had seen that day flashing through her mind, lingering finally on Luca’s hazel eyes, his dark curly lashes and that cheeky, knowing grin as she drifted off to sleep.
The next day she finally spoke to her mother. Libby had legged it down to the beach as soon as her two-hour lunch break had begun, leaving the hostel in Floriana’s capable hands. She had raced straight into the sea on the Spiaggia Maggiore, plunging in and swimming out as far as she could, lolling in the water and gazing up at the towering hills overhead. She imagined all the hikers up on the secret, hidden pathways near the skyline: the Walk of the Gods. She splashed back to shore and dried off, taking a seat on one of the loungers that were dotted about the beach. She dialled her mother’s landline.
‘Hello?’ Her mother’s voice came down the line.
‘Mum, it’s me, Libby!’
‘Libby darling! Finally! How are you?’
‘I’m great thanks. I’m on the beach!’
‘How’s it all going? I’m dying to hear all about it.’ Libby could always rely on her mother for support. She knew that she doted on her as the youngest daughter and felt guilty that her older sister Helen had suffered the high expectations of the first-born child, saving Libby from a similar burden. Unlike Angus, Miriam didn’t seem too judgemental over her lack of direction in life. She was more concerned with Helen, and seemed to allow Libby’s shortcomings to flit underneath her radar.
‘I’m learning the ropes pretty quickly,’ said Libby. ‘There’s nothing too challenging to do. Everyone is charming and the hostel is so cute, you must come and visit.’
It Was Always You Page 3