Libby filled her mother in on her first couple of days in Positano, on Floriana and Tonio, Luca, Maria and Giulia and some of the guests she had met.
‘It all sounds incredible… Actually, I’m glad you called, darling. I’m a bit worried about your sister. Have you heard from her recently?’
‘Not much since she arrived in Hong Kong. I had an email a few days ago. Why? Do you have reason to be concerned?’
‘It’s just that she was in such a bad state when she left. I do hope she hasn’t bitten off more than she can chew.’
‘But the whole point of this change of scenery is a fresh start for her, Mum. That’s why she has gone in the first place.’
‘I know, I know. And we all know Helen needed something different, a change. But I just wonder if we should have let her go… a new place, a new culture, no friends. It’s hardly going to make it easy for her. Her confidence is already so low and she hasn’t got much resilience these days.’
‘I’ll try calling her later. Have you managed to get through?’
‘No I just keep getting her voicemail. What did she say in your email?’
‘Nothing much, to be honest; that she had arrived, that the flight was long but OK. I think it’s good for her though, Mum, I really do. She’s got her TEFL qualification so she might as well use it. When she actually starts teaching she’ll meet people through that, and there’ll be more of a structure, more of a timetable, which is just what she needs.’
‘I just feel so helpless. It’s so hard to understand depression if one is not depressed oneself.’
‘I know, Mum, it is really hard. If it helps, I spoke to Angus about it a while back; you know his dad has suffered badly from it. He said that he sees it a bit like being stuck in the mud. Every time you try to pull yourself out, you end up sinking deeper, so after a while you just give up trying.’
‘Yes I can see that. But that’s why I worry so much. I think she really needs antidepressants to help her deal with her emotions.’
‘I know, but she’s not interested in taking drugs.’
‘Well I wish she would at least give them a try. Or go and see a therapist again. She never admitted it, but I’m sure her sessions with Cynthia helped.’
Miriam struggled to understand Helen’s depression. She tried her best not to show it, but Libby could tell she thought depression was a form of self-indulgence. Libby was constantly sticking up for her sister when her mother became exasperated by her lack of motivation, thankful that it never seemed to be directed at her.
‘I’ll talk to her, Mum. Don’t worry. Or at least try not to. This fresh start could be just what she needs, a change of scenery. And at least she’s not going to bump into Alan in Hong Kong.’
‘Yes, well I suppose that has to be a blessing.’
‘Exactly. All right Mum, I’ll give her a call now and I’ll speak to you very soon. Let me know if you hear anything in the meantime?’
‘I will darling, take care now. And have fun!’
As Libby hung up the phone she sighed. She felt terrible for her sister. She had always struggled somewhat with her confidence, as had Libby herself at times. Helen had suffered from depression and anxiety throughout her twenties and early thirties, having better years and worse years, never really committing to a career and moving from one disastrous relationship to another. Though Libby had not fared much better in either of these respects, she wasn’t cursed with a tendency towards depression, for which she was extremely grateful. To make matters worse, Helen was also desperate to have a baby, and at thirty-seven she was only too aware that time was running out. She had thrown her heart and soul into her last relationship with a slightly dweeby-looking musician called Alan, whom Libby had found bemusingly arrogant. Four years later, with no proposal on the horizon, Helen had confronted him with questions about their future. He had dumped her callously on the spot and claimed that he wasn’t interested in settling down, leaving Helen heartbroken and plunging her into her worst depression yet. She had spent months at her mum’s house in Kent before announcing that she was moving to Hong Kong to teach English as a foreign language. She had upped sticks and gone a couple of weeks ago, whilst Libby had been in the north of Italy, and neither her mum nor Libby had heard much from her since. She sincerely hoped this would be the making and not the breaking of her.
She scrolled down to Helen’s name in her phone and pressed call. A foreign dial tone sounded in her ear. After several rings the mechanical voice of her voicemail kicked in. Libby left a message asking her to call her, saying how much she missed her and how she hoped she was settling in OK. She lay back down on her sun lounger, sending up prayers that her sister would be all right. She loved her dearly and knew just how fragile her state of mind was. She hoped her luck would change and that Hong Kong would help her turn over a new leaf and find her feet once again.
Chapter Four
Having arrived on the Wednesday and worked steadily through the weekend, Libby was given Monday and Tuesday off. She was longing to get out and about, no longer restricted to her two-hour lunch break, and was planning on tackling the famous Walk of the Gods. She set off bright and early on Monday morning with a small daypack. She followed Floriana’s advice on which bus to catch to get to the start of the Sentiero degli Dei. The bus wound its way along the perilously curving roads, depositing her in a small village, from which she followed the hand-drawn map she’d got from La Casetta. She climbed up a series of winding steps to the start of the path. It was an old mule track which had once been the only path connecting the hilltop villages. As Libby walked she could see why the path had received its name. There was a low mist hovering at the top of the mountainous hills, waiting to be burned away by the heat of the sun as it rose. At times she felt as if she could reach out her fingers and touch the cloud of vapour. When it cleared about half an hour into her walk, she could barely believe her eyes as the staggering views of the Amalfi coast were revealed in their full splendour. The endless curves of the coastline plunged thousands of metres down to the emerald sea. The path was so well worn; even the natural stone steps that she came across at times seemed somehow softened and moulded underfoot. She was glad that she had brought a large bottle of water with her as the sun rose higher and higher in the sky.
Hours later, exhausted and sweaty from her endeavours and having finally made her way back to the main road, she decided to hitch a lift back into Positano. A kindly bespectacled man pulled over and let her into the passenger seat of his car, dropping her up the hill from the church. Libby was desperate to get into the sea, so she made her way straight down to the beach, opting for Spiaggia del Fornillo to settle in for the rest of the day. After a well-deserved swim, she ordered a panini from one of the beach restaurants and another bottle of water. Sipping the cooling water and munching on the slightly salty bread with its filling of soft mortadella ham and cheese, she wiggled her toes in the sand and watched her fellow beach-goers amble along the shoreline. Just then her phone beeped in her pocket.
‘Libby?’
‘Luca, hi! How are you?’
‘You made it in one piece?’
‘Yes, I didn’t get lost. It was so stunning, I couldn’t believe it. Hard work but worth every second.’
‘I’m sorry I couldn’t come with you—’
‘No worries. Did you get everything sorted with your graphic design stuff?’
‘Yes all sorted, thanks. Now, this afternoon we are going out on Gian Matt’s boat. Do you want to come?’
‘Oooh, how exciting! Where are you going?’
‘Just around the coast. We can show you the Sirenusas, a bunch of islands between here and Capri.’
‘Wow, that sounds amazing. Are you sure Gian Matteo won’t mind me coming too?’
‘Absolutely. He’s right here with me. Where are you now?’
‘I’m on Fornillo.’
‘OK, we’ll pick you up from the jetty there in half an hour.’
‘Thanks, Luca.’
Libby was excited about getting out on the open water. She adored travelling on speedboats. In Kent she had often gone down to Chatham where Jules’s family had a boat. Some of her favourite memories were of sunny days in her childhood whizzing out over the bumps looking for dolphins, eating picnics, and swimming off the boat in secluded bays with Angus, Jules and their friends.
Soon enough she spotted Luca and Gian Matteo approaching the jetty. She was looking forward to spending some more time with Luca. They had grown close quickly since she had started working at La Casetta, and she could see them becoming very good friends.
‘This is Libby,’ Luca held her hand as she stepped aboard the boat. ‘My beautiful new colleague.’
‘Nice to meet you Libby. I’ve heard quite a lot about you from your greatest fan here,’ said Gian Matteo.
Luca gave Gian Matteo a shove, ignoring him. ‘And this is my sister, Nicola,’ said Luca, introducing Libby to a very pretty brunette who was sitting at the back of the boat.
‘Hi!’
‘Hi Libby, come and sit next to me. It gets quite bumpy out there, the back is much more comfy.’
As Libby took her seat Gian Matteo pushed down the throttle and they eased their way out to sea, accelerating faster as soon as they rounded the first crop of rocks and hit the open water. Libby chatted to Nicola, a charming and friendly twenty-nine year old, only three years younger than Libby and the spitting image of her brother. Libby could tell that they would get on well as they fell into an easy rapport, laughing about Luca and teasing him about his salmon-pink T-shirt, which was just a touch too tight.
After a good blast of sea air had cleared the cobwebs from their lungs and added a pinch of colour to their cheeks, Gian Matteo set his course for the Sirenusas.
‘How did they get their name?’ asked Libby.
‘Legend has it that three enchanted sirens, half women and half birds, lived on the islands,’ explained Gian Matteo.
‘They were said to lure sailors closer and closer towards them with enchanting music and singing, causing boats to shipwreck on the rocks and the sailors to drown,’ continued Luca.
‘Oh! A lovely story!’ laughed Libby. ‘Very morbid!’
The boat slowed down as they slowly circled the jagged rocks. The sea was such a vivid turquoise, it seemed almost impossibly clear and bright. Gian Matteo found a secluded spot and dropped the anchor. He didn’t want to swim himself. Libby wasn’t surprised, he didn’t look the type to enjoy getting wet, but he sat with a beer from the cool box while Nicola, Luca and Libby stripped down to their swimwear and dived in. Luca gave Libby an admiring wolf whistle as she surfaced next to him. ‘You certainly look incredible in a bikini,’ he said.
She laughed, splashing him and diving back under the surface, chiding herself for being secretly pleased with the compliment. She was meant to be immune to those easy tactics from the opposite sex – she was not a teenager, after all. They swam around to the rocks and clambered up on to the island, taking care not to cut their feet on any sharp stones. After a bit of exploring, they swam over to the boat and climbed back on board, drying off in the sun as they sipped cool beers. Nicola told Libby stories about Gian Matteo and Luca growing up, causing indignation on Luca’s part if ever he were portrayed in a less than perfect light.
‘You don’t want to give Libby the wrong impression of me, sis,’ he scolded.
‘I already have an accurate enough impression of you, thanks Luca,’ laughed Libby.
‘She’s not stupid, Lu… she can see straight through you,’ chuckled Nicola.
‘Finally, a woman immune to Luca’s charms.’ Gian Matteo chinked his bottle against Libby’s. ‘I’ve been waiting thirty-seven years for this!’ Libby laughed, though just how immune she was turning out to be, she wasn’t so sure…
That evening, having got back to Positano and disembarked from the boat, and following a couple more beers at a beachfront bar, Luca suggested they all go up to Luigi’s for dinner. Libby was enjoying herself enormously; she loved flirting with Luca and was aware just how much she was beginning to fancy him. Nicola and Luca were given a rapturous greeting by their great-uncle, whom Libby recognised immediately as the bearded man who had been walking around the tables chatting to all the guests the night she had been for dinner there.
After mouth-watering bowls of spaghetti vongole and huge mounds of fluffy tiramisu, not to mention several vats of wine, they were all stuffed to the brim. Luigi came to sit with them, proffering a bottle of Limoncello, which was passed around with tiny shot glasses as a digestivo.
‘So Luigi, what was Positano like when you were a child?’ asked Libby. ‘Has it changed enormously?’
‘Ahhhh… well! It was so tiny when I was young – peaceful, idyllic. No tourists, nothing. I remember when there was only one telephone line in the village. It was at the post office in the centre. If anyone got a telephone call, one of the local boys would have to race as fast as they could up to the far end of the village, sometimes up thousands of steps, to tell the recipient. Then you had to run all the way back to the post office and hope that the person trying to contact you hadn’t got bored of waiting and hung up the phone.’
‘Oh my goodness, how amazing!’ said Libby.
They reminisced further about Positano’s development from a tiny fishing village into the tourist hub that it is today. Luigi was full of interesting and funny anecdotes. He had welcomed his fair share of famous faces into his restaurant over the years and he marched Libby over to his wall of fame by the bar. It was covered in framed photographs of Luigi posing with his famous clientele. Libby spotted Elizabeth Taylor, Goldie Hawn and Tom Hanks among the gallery of stars.
After dinner, Luca and Nicola walked up with her to La Casetta, depositing her at the door before making their way on to their own flat. Luca had three sisters altogether. Nicola was the second youngest, and he and Nicola lived together about a hundred metres further up the hill from the hostel.
‘Thanks so much for such a fun day!’ Libby said, suddenly reluctant to part company with Luca.
‘It was great to meet you,’ said Nicola.
‘And you,’ Libby grinned. She liked Nicola.
‘Let’s do it again soon.’
‘I’ll try and persuade Floriana to give you days off when I am not working,’ said Luca.
‘That’d be great,’ said Libby. ‘You certainly make an excellent tour guide.’
‘All she wants me for is my tour guiding,’ said Luca to his sister, looking morose. ‘She has no idea how it hurts—’
‘Shut up.’ Nicola gave him a shove. ‘Ignore my brother!’
‘Oh don’t worry, I do,’ laughed Libby, as she skipped up the steps and opened the yellow front door. ‘Night,’ she called, closing it behind her.
‘Night, bella!’ shouted Luca. Despite herself, Libby grinned the whole way through her bedtime routine; her heart was dancing the tango and she knew there was only one person to blame.
The following day was spent in a slump on a sun lounger, dozing in the sun. Her calf muscles were aching terribly after her walk and she felt quite exhausted.
She called Jules, who was always willing to pick up while at work; any excuse for a brief respite from her spreadsheets. Jules was not a natural number-cruncher. She was desperately plotting her escape from the world of accountancy to do something more creative. Libby was incredibly sympathetic. There was nothing worse than doing a job that you just didn’t feel cut out for, as she knew only too well. She just wished that Jules would have the strength of mind to do something about it. She had almost got to the point of handing in her notice when they had given her another promotion, which had had the desired effect of enticing her to stay put once more. Thankfully Angus was an extremely sympathetic husband. She was sure that his support was the secret to Jules keeping it all together despite her frustration.
‘Libs! Perfect timing, I’ve just gone out for lunch.’
‘How’s it going?’ Libb
y asked.
‘Deathly. The usual. You?’ Libby caught her up with all the details of her first week in Positano, in particular the wonderful time she had had the day before with Luca and the others.
‘Sounds heavenly. It’s great that you’ve got Luca, and his sister sounds nice. I thought you might get quite bored without any mates, but it sounds like you’re making friends no problem.’
‘They’re all just so friendly. I’m really lucky, though I think it’s also something to do with the Italian character; they’re such open people and very generous with their hospitality. I’m having dinner this evening in Floriana and Tonio’s apartment. Their son Ugo is down from Rome for a couple of days, and Tonio is cooking his speciality gnocchi. I can’t wait!’
‘I hope you’ve at least put on about a stone in weight. That will be my one compensation for losing you to Italy for four months. You have to promise me you’ll come back fat.’
‘I’ll certainly try my best! Though I’m sure I’m burning rather a lot of calories simply going up and down the stairs – there is not one flat path in the whole village. It’s like living on a StairMaster!’
Satisfied that they were both fully up to date with each other’s lives, they hung up the phone, leaving Libby to immerse herself in her novel for the rest of the afternoon. She had tried her sister again but still had no luck getting through.
Before Libby could catch her breath, her working week was over once again. Her two days off stretched out luxuriously in front of her. She was delighted that Luca had once again negotiated the same day off as her, secretly thrilled that he wanted to spend as much time with her as possible. Today they were planning on driving to Ravello. They set off mid-morning and wound their way up the perilous roads once more, veering across to Amalfi and then further up the Via del Dragone high into the hills.
‘I’m impressed with your driving skills,’ Libby told Luca as he negotiated his way past an enormous bus packed full of tourists that had broken down on a hairpin turn. She found his coordination and confidence on these difficult-to-navigate roads very attractive.
It Was Always You Page 4