His face flushes as he places the coffee down on her table, a biscotti resting on the saucer. He runs a hand through his messy curls, ‘messy’ becoming ‘out of control’.
‘I figured I probably owed you an apology. But I’ve always been better with food than words.’
‘Well, it was all delicious.’
The pink spots on his cheeks spread to his forehead and his mouth tightens slightly as though he’s trying very hard not to let himself smile.
‘I’m Luca, by the way.’
‘Not Giuglia, then?’ she asks, gesturing to the sign behind the counter that displays the name of the shop in a gold font.
‘Ah, no. That’s my mum. Did you think Ilooklike a Giuglia?’
‘Um, no, you look …’ She clears her voice. She can’t seem to finish the sentence. ‘Luca probably suits you better. I’m Phoebe.’
He nods. ‘And what’s her name?’
‘What?’
Phoebe follows the tilt of his head to where he’s gesturing towards her motorbike parked up outside the shop.
‘Oh. That’s Frances.’ It’s her turn to flush now. Why did she let that slip out? She didn’t even admit to Max that she’d named her bike, but of course she had, the second she had spotted her at the showroom. She just looked like a Frances.
She’s expecting him to laugh, but instead he just nods. ‘Mine’s Roberta.’
‘You have a bike?’
‘Had,’ he corrects, swallowing hard. ‘A classic Ducati. I had to sell her to help finance all this.’ He gestures around him with the tea towel that had been flung over his shoulder.
‘Oh my God, that’s so sad!’ It comes out before she can help herself. But it’s got her thinking about her own motorbike. Will she have to sell it now that she’s living off a solo income – and a nurse’s income at that? Her eyes well up at the thought. Not Frances.
‘Well, hopefully it will be worth it,’ Luca says, looking around the shop with a faraway expression. When she’s certain he isn’t looking, she grabs a paper towel and ducks under the table to give the black scuff mark she made with her foot a quick wipe.
When she sits back up again, Luca is watching her with a strange expression on his face. Phoebe coughs and glances up at the clock above the counter. Shit. She downs the last of her coffee, pocketing her biscotti for later.
‘Work?’ he asks as she grabs her things and tucks the chair under the table.
‘In a bit. But first I’m going for a swim.’
‘At the river?’
‘Yeah. Hopefully there will be no water menaces out today.’
It still feels strange to think about going back for another swim. Two days of exercising in a row … It has to be a personal record, despite how much she bangs on to her patients about the benefits of moving their bodies.
‘Apologise to your swimming mates for me, will you?’ Luca says, slipping his hands in his apron pockets and shifting on the spot. ‘I was having a bad morning.’ There’s that tired look on his face again, that slightly distant glaze to his deep brown eyes.
She wants to press him to tell her more – she can’t help herself, given her profession – but reminds herself he’s not a patient. It’s none of her business. Plus, she’s going to be late if she doesn’t leave soon. And she can’t be late. She made a promise to Camilla Ramsgate. And, actually, she’s looking forward to seeing Sandra, Jazz and Hester again.
‘The coffee was great, by the way,’ she says as she’s leaving.
Luca is behind the counter again, tinkering with the display, his dark eyes focused intently on the baked goods, his teeth biting down on his bottom lip. He looks up at her and something about the look he gives her makes her stand up a little taller.
‘Bye, neighbour.’
CHAPTER 20
As Kate crosses the field that leads down to the river, she can’t quite believe that she’s going to swim. Last night, she spent an hour plugged up to the electric breast pump that Erin had given her but that she hadn’t used until now. The droning whir made her feel like a cow at an industrial dairy, but she didn’t care. If that’s what it took to get back in the water, then it would be worth it.
