by Bella Donnis
“What?” Erin’s mouth gaped ajar, unsure just how much of this was believable.
“It’s true! Ask yourself this…Why, after all these years is heroin still flooding into Italy, into England and every other western country from an Afghanistan that’s had tens of thousands of foreign troops there for years? I mean, how hard can it be to burn the lot? Heroin is one of the most lucrative exports, why wouldn’t governments at the highest level get involved? And let’s not pretend your own country, Erin, didn’t start two wars in the past over opium…There’s precedents for this.”
Erin nodded, vaguely recalling reading the words ‘Chinese Opium Wars’ on a rather long list of past British conflicts. “Right, ok. I believe you.” Though she really hadn’t thought anything of the subject and certainly hadn’t looked into it in any detail. And why would she? Gianna had always been a bit of an eccentric, but Erin always put that down to her growing up in this city. Erin never had Gianna down as a conspiracy nut. But since the topic was close to Gianna, Erin would listen and try to understand. Though she still didn’t know what any of this had to do with her brother Marco. Erin assumed that part was coming.
“Then one day, the 20th of May, 2004, Marco and part of his company were ordered to base to collect supplies.” Gianna averted her eyes from Erin, who realised that date was only a couple of days before Gianna left Cambridge. “We were told an improvised explosive device detonated below their vehicle. At least, nobody has ever been able to prove otherwise.” Gianna reached into her bag for a tissue and dabbed at her eyes.
Erin, at a loss for words ran a hand through her hair, then took hold of Gianna’s hands again.
Gianna exhaled and looked up in a small token of defiance. “In the years after, we had visits from some of his friends who’d since left the army. They said Marco was feeling increasingly unhappy with his duties and that he tried to spread discontent amongst his comrades by preaching the real reasons why they were there.” Gianna tilted her head. “You remember when I told you the kind of person he was? He was exactly like you, Erin. He was a wonderful yet shy, socially awkward person. It would have been so hard for him to stand up and speak out like he did and he wouldn’t have done it unless he was absolutely sure.” Gianna seemed to wait for Erin to say something. “I know what you’re probably thinking…Was it murder?”
Erin exhaled – How did she do that? “I was…I was thinking exactly that.”
“I remember getting word from my father about Marco’s death only a few minutes after you left my flat on that wonderful morning.” Gianna squeezed Erin’s hands tight. “My life went from perfect to agonising within a single second.” She nodded her head. “I had to be there, to be with my family, so I pretty much just grabbed my passport and money and dashed for the airport. I knew I was throwing everything away, but at that moment, I didn’t give a shit.” Gianna pulled her hands away. “Can you believe that’s why he died, so the British and Americans could maintain their heroin monopoly?”
“I’m so very sorry,” Erin croaked. She felt an overwhelming sadness and loss because Erin would very much have thought of Marco as her own brother, had she known him.
“Looking back, sure, I could have contacted you. But two things stopped me.” Gianna said, anger brewing in her voice. Erin guessed what those things were. “For a long time afterwards, I harboured a grudge against your country.”
Erin shrank back against the bench. She’d be angry herself, if what Gianna said turned out to be true.
She continued, “but eventually I realised I can’t hold an entire nation responsible for the actions of its corrupt government.”
“No, of course not.” Erin sniffed. “What was the other reason?”
Gianna smiled, which surprised Erin. “Remember the first day we met?”
“Oh, only as if it were yesterday.” Erin tilted her head to match Gianna’s and grinned.
“You were so terrified of all those people, you looked like you wanted to sink into the floor.”
Erin laughed, “I was in a bad way that day.”
“It was the reason I wanted to be your friend. I guess I sort of felt responsible.”
“You did? I never knew that.”
“I used to try and help Marco, by introducing him to my friends, by insisting he joined in with us whenever there was an opportunity, even though he was a year older than me.” She gazed for a moment at the sea. “It was hard for me to contact you because you reminded me so much of him.”
That was it – Right there. Erin had her answers.
After ten years, she finally knew why her life had changed in an instant when the best friend she ever had abandoned her. “I understand now and I accept it.” Erin nodded, but she knew there was more.
“My father spent the following year trying to prove Marco was murdered by his own side, all while the press covered it up.” Gianna looked away again and closed her eyes. “After that first year, things had improved a lot and I thought about returning to England to find you and restart my degree.” She paused.
“What happened?” The ache and longing within Erin grew. The entire story was filled with many an if only.
“I promise you Erin,” she rubbed Erin’s arm, “I was writing out the email to Downing College when I heard from my mother that my father had died.”
“I’m so sorry.” Erin whispered, feeling her heart beating exceptionally fast.
“He passed away from heart complications, but my mother always said he died from a broken heart.”
Erin blinked as a tear rolled down her cheek. Great – She had wanted to stay strong for Gianna’s sake and pretty soon doubtless she’d begin blubbering too.
“So, there you have it.” Gianna rocked to-and-fro from the hips, something Erin remembered she used to do on the rare occasion she was anxious. “I needed to support my mother, so I moved back in with her. Then I took a bar job to pay the bills, which meant I could no longer return to Cambridge. The following year I enrolled at the University of Napoli and graduated in Physiotherapy a full three years later than intended.” She laughed at the last part of her story. “I finally achieved my dream a couple of years ago when I opened up my surgery,” her smiled waned at the last part, which confused Erin.
“So, why did you not get in touch after graduating?”
“Erin, there were so many times, especially later on when I came close to contacting you. But things always got in the way.” She sighed, “I found that the longer I left it, the harder it got. The truth is that I was about to surprise you with a visit around a year and a half ago…”
“…What happened?” Erin dreaded asking but thought she knew the answer.
“My mother died.” Her mouth trembled and her voice came out as a croak. “Clearly something was trying to tell me not to bother, so it was at that point I finally decided to give up.”
Erin pulled Gianna close as they both cried in each others’ arms. Erin closed her eyes and tried to imagine how hard the last few years must have been for her friend. It was understandable that she’d worked herself to the bone, aged beyond her years, put on weight, neglected her health and in the meantime, Gianna had also lost all hope. More recently, in her loneliness she’d made poor decisions and settled for bad relationships; that crazy mad woman, Agata, who threw the cocktail over Erin sprung to mind.
There had once been a time when at her most vulnerable, Erin had been saved by the girl who now clung to her, crying. Now, Erin had it in her power to return that favour and try to make things right with Gianna, to rebuild her just as she had once helped forge Erin into the person she had become. Where Gianna had once been protective over Erin, Erin now felt that same protective instinct over Gianna. Erin wanted to make everything right again, to repay the debt and see Gianna return to the happy, confident girl she used to be.
Erin pushed herself to arms’ length and waited for Gianna to look her in the eye. “You should come back to Cambridge. We can work together, just like we always dreamed. I have ro
om at my practice and I’d love to have you there with me.” Erin would make damn sure Gianna regained her confidence, her love of life and even her love of rowing. But best of all, they’d be together.
Gianna’s eyes glazed over. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but no words were forthcoming. She shook her head several times, Erin feeling her heart sink into her stomach. This was so meant to be, just the two of them. It was always meant to be this way. All Gianna had to do was say ‘yes.’
“Erin, I just can’t.”
“Why not?” Erin asked with hard eyes.
“Please, I just can’t do it.” She shook her head again.
Erin pulled her hands away. “Excuse me, but I’ve just asked you to come and work with me in my own surgery. The least you can do is give me a real reason.”
“Please, Erin, you’ll understand one day…Maybe.”
Why did life always have to be so fucking unfair?
All these wasted years and, as it turned out, they were all for nothing. Of course, sometimes events, life situations and tragedies interfered with the normal running of things; like everything that’d happened to Gianna, like that damn poem fluttering back into existence.
“Fate can only take a person so far. After that it’s up to you to show some courage and account for the rest.” Erin had made a conscious decision to look for Gianna. It had been Erin who made the first move after ten years, put everything on the line and now Gianna needed to show some courage herself and meet her halfway. Erin could do no more than she already had.
“I’m not sure what you mean.” Gianna said, averting her eyes once again.
Erin sprang from her seat, struck with her fist the railing that prevented her from tumbling into the sea, whipped back around on Gianna and exploded. “Damn it…Ten fucking years and not even a word to let me know you were alive. Gianna, what the fuck?” Erin’s entire body was shaking, but this time there were no clouds blotting out her vision.
Gianna stood and faced Erin, but kept her distance. “I may have disappeared for ten years, but you’ve been pretending to be in love with Ben for just as long. What are you planning on doing, Erin? Are you really going to marry him?” Gianna shouted the last words.
Somewhere far below a large wave smashed against the rocks. Erin moved forward, wrapped her arms around Gianna’s body and pulled her close. Their lips met as they wilted into each other, their tongues clashing, heavy breaths from their noses loud as they struggled for air, Erin grasped the flesh on Gianna’s back as she felt a hand clasping chunks of her hair. Erin lost herself in the kiss, ten years forlorn and she remembered the first time she experienced Gianna’s lips by the Cam, when she was innocent and life was perfect. Nothing had ever been the same since. Why did things have to change?
Gianna pulled away, her eyes glassy. “No! You’re not doing this.” She took a step back. “You’re engaged. The sweet Erin I always knew did not hurt people. Does your fiancé deserve this?”
And then Erin realised – Gianna wasn’t the only girl out of the two of them who’d changed for the worse. “Gianna…”
“No! You go back to him now. Get married, have kids, live happily ever after. It’s what you deserve.” Gianna turned away, unable to look at Erin, but her words came out coherent.
Erin panted and took a few seconds to regain composure. Gianna was correct. How could Erin have even thought to make such requests of Gianna when she herself was in no emotional state to make them. Erin was engaged to be married and that had to be fixed before anything else, even if in the end it still wouldn’t make a difference with Gianna, she still had to make things right. “Gia?” Erin said, waiting for her friend to turn round.
Gianna slowly turned to face Erin over her shoulder.
Erin breathed, “I always regretted that I never told you…That I loved you.”
They began the descent, back to the car.
Erin waited at the table in the restaurant of the Grand Hotel Santa Lucia, already on her second glass of wine. It was unlike Ben to be late, but she could allow for it this evening.
She would do it tonight, no stalling, no excuses. Erin was in love, still, even after all these years, with another woman. That Erin was a lesbian didn’t really register on her mind as she looked around at the other diners and at the people who walked through the lobby. Deep down, over the past ten years and probably beyond, she supposed it was there all along, even if she never put a label on herself or declared it to her family. She pictured that conversation with her mother and shuddered. But first, she had to make things right with Ben. And that would be horrific, but probably not unexpected.
Ben strode into the restaurant and nodded to Erin as they caught each others’ eye from across the room. “Hi.” He walked round to Erin’s side of the table and kissed her lightly on the cheek before taking a seat at the other side.
“Hello.” She tried to smile, the knots in her stomach preventing any kind of happiness from showing on the outside. “How was Amalfi?”
“Fantastic. I stocked up on the Limoncello stuff. They’ll make great gifts for everybody back home.” Ben crossed one leg over the other and leaned back in his chair. “Sorry I’m late, by the way, but you really do have to see the drive. I probably made a half dozen stops just on the way back…All those small towns…Stunning.”
“Really?” Erin rubbed her hands along her dress in a vain effort at drying away the clamminess. Obviously, Ben had been in no rush to return.
“It’s a real shame you’ve decided barely to leave Napoli, you have no idea what you’re missing.” He shook his head as he spoke, with a hint of condescension.
“Are we eating? I’m not really all that hungry.” But a few more drinks wouldn’t go amiss.
“You can do what you like, dear.” He said, stony faced, barely moving any muscle that didn’t control his mouth.
“Ok, well then, I think I’ll skip food this evening.” Erin leaned forward. “We need to have a chat, about us.”
“About us? Oh, don’t worry about it, Erin. It’s over between us.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.
“Ok, I expected this.”
“Quiet! Don’t think I don’t know what you’ve been doing today.” He tapped his fingers against the screen, speaking without looking up.
Erin’s head swirled, her feet tingled. “What I’ve been doing today?” She asked almost with a hiss.
“Imagine my real surprise,” he said with sarcasm, “when I’m enjoying the views of the Amalfi Coast when I get an email from some Italian dyke by the name of Agata Castelli.” He must have seen Erin’s mouth plunge as she lost control of her facial muscles. “Ah yes, name ring a bell does it?” He continued, reading from the screen. “‘To the boyfriend of English Whore. Be a man and tell your woman to keep away from mine girlfriend.’”
Shit – Throwing a cocktail over somebody in anger was one thing, but going out of the way to seek out Ben was something else. “Ben, I’m so sorry you had to read that. I was going to tell you today that…”
“…Did you kiss her?” He asked, for the first time his eyes betraying what was going on inside.
What would be the best thing to say? The truth? That yes, while they were still technically engaged, Erin kissed another woman. Or should Erin spare his feelings, as well as his pride, which would make it easier for him to move on with dignity when this whole thing was over with. After all, it wouldn’t be easy for a guy to lose his fiancé to another woman. Either way, Erin had little time to decide. “Ben, we did not kiss.” In hindsight, it would probably turn out to be the wrong decision.
“You’re a bloody liar!” He threw the phone down in front of Erin.
She picked it up and gaped at the screen, the photograph showing herself in a tight embrace, kissing Gianna at Parco Virgiliano. She bowed her head, what could she say? “Ben, I’m so sorry.”
He held up a hand, “save it,” retrieved his phone and left.
Thirty minutes after Ben wal
ked out, Erin received a note from the concierge informing her that he’d taken the car and left the city, gone up north somewhere and that he suggested Erin made her own arrangements with regards to the rest of the trip, or flying home, either way, he didn’t give a shit.
Oh why, oh why, oh why had Erin lied to him? Now he’d have the worst of both worlds – Knowing she’d been dishonest and that he’d lost his fiancé to another woman. Ugh, that wouldn’t be easy for him to take. A thick excess of saliva built in Erin’s throat, the skin of her face tightened – She felt disgusted.
Erin, half way through her third glass of wine knew the truth of the matter – She’d fucked up big in Napoli. “And that fucking bitch.” She spat, not caring about the elderly couple enjoying a meal at the next table. Agata – That bitch had followed them to Parco Virgiliano and spied from the shadows, taking photos. Well, she had her wish now. Not only was it over with Ben in the most horrible of ways, but things had also been damaged with Gianna.
“What is with her?” Erin asked herself, taking another gulp of wine.
Why did she not want to return to England, back to the place she herself admitted was where she’d been happiest? Maybe the answer was in the very question. Was Gianna afraid that things wouldn’t be the same the second time around? It was a possibility, but it was more likely the real reason was because Erin was engaged. Had Erin herself been as much a barrier to her own happiness as was the circumstance of Gianna running away? Perhaps if Erin hadn’t spent the last ten years pretending to be happy with Ben then she would have been free to search for Gianna much sooner and things could have been so very different. Damn it, but Erin could have been there for her, to help Gianna through all the incredibly hard times.