Where Are You

by Bella Donnis

  When the waiter came, Gianna ordered two Bellini cocktails and gestured with a hand to the vast open Piazza Bellini. “What else would be fitting?”

  Erin stared at Gianna. She’d thought about this very moment for a long time and now it had actually arrived, her mind blanked out. She was certain the conversation would flow eventually, just like it always did. Most likely, it was the gravity of the occasion and all the accumulated pressure that served to slow her mind down. She studied Gianna’s face, the first signs of wrinkles below the eyes and yet again, Erin found herself scarcely believing just who she was with, and this time, alone.

  Gianna caught Erin’s eyes and looked down to the table. What was she thinking right about now? The silence protracted for a while longer and then the waiter returned with two pink cocktails in long glasses.

  “I love these.” Gianna sipped through the straw and made a delightful humming sound. “It’s made from peach and Prosecco. I hope you enjoy.”

  Erin brought the straw to her lips and sipped. “Oh, Gianna, it’s very tasty.” For a second, Erin wondered if she noted a small squint from Gianna’s eyes as she said the full version of her name. It wasn’t the first time Erin had called her Gianna since their re-acquaintance. Perhaps the squint was from the sourness of the Bellini?

  “Rowing…” Gianna smiled and leaned forward, “…tell me, did you ever make it to the Olympics?”

  “Um, not exactly.” Erin took another sip from her drink. She worried the cocktail would soon disappear and she’d have nothing remaining to occupy her hands.

  “The crazy professor would have been disappointed with that.”

  “He was!”

  “And how about the Henley Royal Regatta? Surely you’d have qualified with ease? Please tell me you did.”

  “Same.”

  “Ouch, what was his name?”

  “The professor? Andy Atkins…Yeah, he was pretty disappointed over a number of things.” Erin hadn’t meant to sound snide, but there was no other way it could come out. Besides, the old prof wasn’t the only person Gianna had left disappointed. Erin sighed, “the thing is, or was, that without a rowing partner, I couldn’t really continue to compete in the double sculls.” This subject had been touched upon at dinner earlier, but now, without Ben being around, Erin felt herself more able to discuss it.

  Gianna blinked. “Why didn’t you just find a new partner? You had a Fairbairns’ medal. How hard could it have been?” Ugh, either she didn’t get it, how much her departure had effected Erin, or Gianna was fishing for just how much damage her leaving had.

  “Well, looking back, I could have found a new partner. It would probably have been quite easy considering…” Erin realised she’d hardened her facial features and tried to soften them, “…you remember what I was like. I’m a very different person now. But back then…I just gave up on rowing. Too many hard memories.” She spoke the last sentence quickly and went straight into the next. “The Downing Boat House needed structural repairs.” Erin laughed.

  “Well it was bound to happen eventually…” Gianna trailed off, Erin guessed because she wanted to fish a little more, but for whatever reason, didn’t. “Your fiancé,” she began instead, “he seems wonderful.”

  It would have needed an extremely wonderful person to act as a sufficient distraction from the girl sat opposite. “Thank you, he is wonderful…” Erin trailed off. But it just wasn’t the same with Ben as it had been with the damn Italian. But where was the interrogation from Gianna? Was this the same girl she’d fallen in love with? Erin sighed, “you don’t remember him do you.” It came out more as a statement than a question. That Gianna didn’t remember Ben was hardly surprising given the only contact they had were angry glances over Erin’s shoulder and across a crowded Starbucks a little over ten years ago.

  Gianna shook her head. “No, did we ever meet?”

  “Not really.” Erin had since satisfied within her own mind that Ben didn’t even recollect Gianna, which would have been more likely than the vice-versa. “I do have vague memories of you staring daggers at him on a few occasions.” It still wasn’t clicking. “He was that guy who worked in Starbucks, the one you said always stared at me.”

  Gianna’s eyes flicked up as she thought. “Nah, it’s not computing.”

  Erin flapped her hand. “Well I don’t suppose it matters. We started dating a few months after you left.” Perhaps that latter fact was the more important of the two.

  Gianna exhaled through her nose and hunched her shoulders forward. “Was he some sort of a rebound?” Finally, a glimpse of the old Gianna, the fearless, inquisitive girl she was remembered as.

  Though perhaps that topic was better left for later, when they’d both had a little more alcohol, Erin answered anyway - After all, it was the reason she was in Napoli. “If you want my complete honesty, Gianna, at the time, I needed to do something, anything.” Erin had just never intended for that something to stretch on for ten years. In the moment, she felt terrible and could see the reaction on Gianna’s face; that she’d pulled a poor man into some sort of an abyss of love, which could never have been returned in kind. No - That wasn’t quite true, because like with everything else, things were never as straightforward as that. Erin felt deeply for Ben and perhaps, yes it was even love. But her very presence in Napoli was confirmation enough that she wasn’t in love with him. Erin moved her glass from one spot to another and then back again. “You hurt me! You were the only person in the world who had the power to hurt me like that.”

  Gianna’s eyes dropped to the table as she fiddled with a napkin. “I know I did.” After several seconds, it became clear she wasn’t going to push further on that subject. Perhaps more alcohol would be the answer.

  As if by magic, the waiter appeared and took orders for more cocktails.

  “The Spritz is very popular round here.” Gianna said, breaking the tension.

  “What exactly is it?” Erin asked with fascination.

  “Prosecco again, carbonated water and a mixture of bitter liquors.”

  “Sounds yummy, I can’t wait to try it.” Erin had been intrigued by something Gianna mentioned earlier. “What is this Camorra you mentioned before?” Changing the subject to something a little lighter, at least for a short while would be welcome.

  “The Camorra? Oh, they’re pretty much a group of families who run the city. Much like the stereotype of us, it happens to play out pretty true in Napoli.”

  “They run the city?”

  Gianna waited until the waiter placed down the two bright orange cocktails and walked away. “Each family controls a zone within the city. They keep businesses, tourists and residents safe. They make their money from local business and suppliers, and I’m not going to lie, they also engage in the usual stuff you associate with gangsters.” Gianna frowned as she tore into the napkin. “They’re not perfect, but on balance, they’re a good thing for us.”

  “They keep you safe? What about the police?”

  “The police?” Gianna laughed. Nothing else needed saying.

  “I suppose it’s a bit of a culture shock. These days we’re all supposedly a part of Europe, but it’s nice we all at least try and keep our old cultures and traditions.” Erin sipped her Spritz, which was preferential to the Bellini.

  “It’s for that very reason Italy is such an important tourist destination.” Gianna straightened in her chair as her face sprang to life. “Ooh, that’s what I was meant to ask you…”

  Erin grinned from Gianna’s infectious sudden change in zeal. “What? What were you meant to ask me?”

  “Everything. I’m still getting used to seeing your little face again, and I haven’t even asked what you’re doing. I mean, I’m pretty sure you’re a physio, but…Ok I’ll shut up, you talk now.”

  Erin could only smile. Small glimpses of the friend she’d once known occasionally glanced through. She studied Gianna’s eyes for a moment, but there seemed a necessity to look deep. Something was missing and it bo
thered Erin because she couldn’t put a finger on it. The hawkish intensity she always possessed, like a superhuman power, still remained, which was a wonderful comfort to Erin. Yet conversely, it was almost like something had been taken away. Then once again, it was Gianna who broke eye contact and looked down to the table.

  Erin exhaled slowly and spoke. “Well, after my undergrad I took my masters and graduated in 2008. Then I spent two years working for a large physiotherapist in Peterborough, not too far from Cambridge whilst taking my doctorate. I saved up enough money, secured a bank loan and opened up my own surgery just a short walk from my old student accommodation. Four years on, I’m doing quite well and having fun whilst doing it.”

  “Quite well? You’re far too modest. Don’t think I haven’t read about your recent accomplishments. I was…am very proud of you.”

  “Ah, you’re probably referring to the Relief for Heroes thingy…It was nothing. Just forget about it.” Erin looked down and span her glass. “As you know, a physio’s work is never done, especially when you’re dealing with war injuries and prosthetic limbs.”

  Gianna narrowed her eyes and pressed her lips together before again looking down to the table. She took a few deep breaths before looking back up.

  “Are you ok?” Erin asked, Gianna’s hand.

  “Well I should be.”

  “Should be?”

  Gianna exhaled again. “It’s a couple of things I suppose. But I don’t really want to get into one of them right now. It’ll put a total downer on a wonderful evening.”

  Erin guessed she was referring to her brother. She wouldn’t push that any further for now. It would be best if Gianna found her own moment to confide in Erin – And Erin truly hoped she would indeed confide. “What’s the thing you can get into?”

  Gianna spent a moment gazing out into the square. “We followed such similar paths. Why do you think that was?”

  Erin knew the answer to that. “It was you who gave me the idea to start my own practice.” It was after all meant to have been the both of them.

  “But the injured soldiers?”

  Erin exhaled, “now that was a coincidence. They kind of came to me…Lots of them…Too many of them. I guess I’ve kind of specialised in that area now.” Was it truly a coincidence? Or had it been something else?

  Gianna stared for a few seconds, her head tilting to the side, a smile holding for the duration. “I’m very proud of you.” She reached over, grabbed Erin’s hand and squeezed it tight. “That’s my girl.”

  The mutual comfort between herself and Gianna obviously wasn’t yet quite how it used to be, but to Erin, it was still remarkable. In all her life, she was never able to communicate with another person quite as easily as with Gianna. Even after a ten year gap, despite a few inevitable bumps, she sensed a rapidly building rapport. This could only be a good thing.

  The faint trills of a violin drifted over from somewhere in the square and then a red faced opera singer began bellowing beautiful words from beside the violin, drawing in an instant a few hundred heads in their direction.

  “Ah, I’ve met him a few times. His name’s Mario, he does this thing for a living.”

  “He’s very good.” Not that Erin thought she’d be able to tell the difference between a good and a bad opera singer.

  “He is. It can be tough catching a break, so in the meantime he makes a living doing what he loves. Better that than working behind a bar, right?”

  Erin turned back from the singer to Gianna. “Absolutely, if you have a gift then you should use it.”

  “How are our Scottish twins?” Gianna asked.

  Erin took a second to adjust to the sudden change of subject. Then took an even longer pause. “Um, Gianna…” She saw Gianna straighten as she pulled her hands in across the table, closer to her body. The Italian at least had not lost the ability to read Erin. “…I’m very sorry to have to tell you this…”

  “What?” Gianna braced herself.

  “Mikey died around six months after you left.” Erin watched as the creases appeared on Gianna’s forehead. “His brother said it was due to depression.”

  “He took his own life?” The disbelief was in her voice.

  Erin nodded, stood and slid her chair around the table, closer to Gianna. Tears flickered in her eyes and Erin pulled her into an embrace.

  “So much stuff I’ve missed.” Gianna’s words came out muffled against Erin’s shoulder.

  Erin felt the drips and the moisture building on her flesh. “There was nothing anybody could have done. We all thought he was happy…He seemed it on the outside.”

  Gianna pulled away and wiped her eyes with the napkin. “Are you sure this had nothing to do with either of us?”

  Erin rubbed Gianna’s arm. “I was certain to ask his brother that same thing but he insisted. If anything, you were a ray of sunshine in his life, just like you were in all of our lives.”

  “And all this time, I had no idea.” Gianna dabbed her eyes again. “I always envisioned that one day the four of us would have one big reunion party.”

  “And then we’d row up the Cam together.” Erin saw the corner of Gianna’s mouth rise from the mention of the familiar river.

  “One day, we’ll all be together again and that’s what we’ll do.” Gianna took a sip from her drink and shivered. “And his brother? Please tell me he’s alright.”

  Erin laughed, “Scruffy? Yeah, he’s perfectly fine but still a pain in the arse.”

  For whatever reason, Gianna looked upwards and diagonally from the mention of his name. “Well, at least Scruffy,” she said placing emphasis on his name, “is still around to cause everybody a few problems.”

  Erin thought back to her engagement, “he most certainly is. He’s doing very well for himself, still single and being a pest, but I can see him becoming a true friend to me in the future.”

  “Becoming?” Gianna asked with narrowed eyes. “You’ve known him a long time.”

  Erin paused, trying to find the words. “We went a long time without speaking. I used to walk by him on the odd occasion but I never went out of my way to speak with him.”

  “Why not?” Gianna saw Erin’s stern, warning look. “Oh.”

  “Too many hard memories.” Erin’s face softened. “It was only more recently we’ve been making an effort.” A change of subject, to something lighter was called for. “How is business? I stopped by your surgery the other day.”

  “I know…I couldn’t believe it when I missed you. I felt completely crushed…Devastated even.”

  “How on earth did you manage to find me?” Erin plopped back in her chair, reliving that magical moment in Pompeii, then leaned forward again.

  “I was lucky…I know that much. Thinking about it now, it was a thousand to one chance. I knew how much you wanted to see Pompeii…It was as simple as that.”

  “Well then, it wasn’t really a thousand to one chance because you knew me so well.” Erin smiled and held her gaze before, again, Gianna broke it and looked down to the table. “Maybe fate played a small part though.” Erin laughed. “Seeing you again, for the first time…Now, that was a surreal moment…A total blur.”

  “It was wonderful and I’ll always remember it.” Gianna finally managed to smile back at Erin.

  “And business?” Erin asked, referring back to her original question that got side-tracked.

  “Business? Business is good, yes. It has its ups and downs like any other, but I’m happy to say things are looking good.” She tore into her napkin again.

  Erin nodded and didn’t follow up with the boring subject of work. Instead, she allowed the silence to protract for a while. Gianna still hadn’t volunteered the information Erin sought. Sure, it would most likely be painful, but if anybody deserved to know, it was Erin. She cleared her throat, “Gianna,” Erin watched as the Italian gave her full attention, “why did you leave like you did?”

  Gianna took a deep breath and opened out her palms. “Erin, the reason was…
” she stopped as a shadow loomed over the table.

  Erin was so engrossed in the moment, it was several seconds before she noticed the feminine presence hovering over them.

  “Chi e’ questa troia?” The familiar, tall brunette pointed a ringed finger an inch from Erin’s nose as she spat the final word.

  “Stai zitta, non e’ una troia!” Gianna shouted back, leaning sidewards and moving a protective arm over Erin. “I’m sorry about this.” Gianna’s eyes were wide, like a frightened child’s.

  “Who is she?” Then it hit. It was the woman Erin had seen holding hands with Gianna the day before; the same woman who drank coffee with her while Erin watched from a distance. Erin had assumed at the time that this woman was in a relationship with Gianna, it really had looked that way. Erin hadn’t really asked much about the woman; there seemed no need since Gianna had dismissed the woman as ‘nobody’ back in Pompeii.

  “Who is this English whore? You told there was nobody else.” The scary woman, switching languages, stood threatening above them both, one hand propped on a hip, the other clenching and unclenching repeatedly. Several people from other tables had turned their heads to steal glimpses at the unfolding drama. The waiter remained by the counter but kept a close eye on the intruder.

  Gianna rolled off a string of fast Italian to the woman, which bothered Erin. Gianna had no need to hide anything. Erin understood she had no right to bounce back into Gianna’s life and expect everything to be as it was ten years ago. Obviously, Gianna would know other people, women, lesbians. The bigger issue for the moment was, if as it seemed this woman was not ‘nobody,’ then why had Gianna lied about the fact?

  The unwelcome guest seemed not placated in the slightest by Gianna’s words. “You go now, English whore.” She edged closer to Erin and made shooing motions with her hands, like Erin was some common insect. The woman would’ve been attractive if not for her overbearing and threatening nature.

  “She is not a whore. How dare you speak of her that way.” Gianna leaned even closer to Erin.

  The woman didn’t move and now her hand shook as it slowly balled into a fist. “You think me stupid? You disappear all day. You switch off phone. I see you sat close with English whore.”