Luca is practically squirming by now, his tanned neck blotched with crimson. Watching him wriggle uncomfortably makes Phoebe stifle a laugh. It makes her feel better, seeing him looking as uncomfortable as she feels to be seeing him again.
‘Sure, I can help a neighbour out,’ he says, flipping the shopsign to closed and leaving the one customer sitting contentedly with his newspaper, espresso and a biscotti. ‘OK. I’m all yours.’
And Phoebe tries her best not to let her own face turn pink at his words.
CHAPTER 41
Phoebe hardly recognises her flat. The empty space is now filled with a dining table and a colourful mismatch of chairs and there’s a big jug of tulips in the middle that Sandra insisted on buying as a house warming present.
‘But I already told you, I’ve lived here for years.’
‘I know. But that doesn’t mean your home didn’t need warming.’
In the middle of the living room is the tangerine sofa which goes perfectly with the bright yellow back wall that they painted with the help of Rosie, who Jay dropped off in the afternoon when she needed a feed. She was mostly very content in the sling on Kate’s chest, holding a small paintbrush in one hand. When she grew grizzly, Phoebe could sense Kate starting to become anxious, but she was quickly passed around the group for cuddles and both of them soon calmed down.
Now, the early-evening sun slants in through the window, turning the yellow wall to a sun-kissed gold.
‘It really does look great,’ says Kate, cuddling Rosie, who is now fast asleep in her arms.
‘Thank you,’ Phoebe says with meaning. ‘All of you, thank you so much. This place looks like a home now, thanks to you.’
She still isn’t certain what her next chapter looks like and whether she will be able to stay living here, but for now, this place looks like home.
‘Oh, by the way, my boss approved the mental health wild swimming group. The first meet-up is tomorrow. I’m not sure if anyone will come, though …’
She still hasn’t received replies from any of her patients.
‘We can be there, if it would help?’ suggests Kate, rocking Rosie back and forth gently. The others nod in agreement.
‘Really? That would be great, if you don’t mind. It would be nice to feel that there’s a group there. So that even if just one patient turns up, they won’t be on their own.’
‘We’ll be there.’
Once they’re gone, Phoebe looks around the flat again, taking it all in appreciatively. As her eyes fall on her new orange sofa, an image flashes involuntarily into her mind of the muscles tautening across Luca’s shoulders as he carried the front end up the stairs and Phoebe followed behind, trying to concentrate on her footing and not the sight in front of her. He headed back to the deli once everything was in and Phoebe has tried very hard all afternoon to not think about the fact that, as they’ve been painting and chatting up here, he’s been working just below them.
Now that the place is looking so homely, she doesn’t like the thought of there being awkwardness between her and herdownstairs neighbour. She doesn’t want anything to encroach on her happy little oasis. She needs to bloody well pull her polka-dot socks up and clear the air. She’ll explain that the mad moment the other week was down to a long day and too much wine and then they can move on.
She marches decisively down the stairs. As she does, the sound of Magic FM rises up from beneath her. When she pushes open the door to the deli, she stops in her tracks. A couple of the tables have been pushed to one side to create more space on the floor. In the middle of that space are Luca and the older gentleman who was there earlier. The pair of them are dancing, Van Morrison’s ‘Brown Eyed Girl’ playing loudly through the speakers.
Luca is a surprisingly good dancer, twisting his hips and stepping his feet in perfect time to the music, his apron swinging slightly as he moves. The customer, however, is terrible. But he dances with such enthusiasm that you almost don’t notice. Almost.
Phoebe pauses in the doorway for a moment, watching them as they dance, completely oblivious to her presence. But suddenly Luca looks up and spots her there. The older man looks up then too, stopping his dancing and letting out a loud puff of air.
‘Ciao!’ he says warmly.
‘Er, sorry,’ Luca mumbles. ‘I hope the music didn’t disturb you upstairs.’ He turns down the volume.
‘Ah, so you’re the neighbour,’ his dancing companion says, adjusting his trousers which have become rumpled from thedancing. ‘Scusa!I asked him to turn it up. That was my wife’s favourite song.’
‘Your wife?’
The man points to the sign at the back of the shop, where golden writing swirls across the wall. ‘My Giuglia.’
He reaches into his shirt pocket and pulls out a handkerchief, dabbing at his eyes.
Luca looks up from beneath his dark curls, his eyes meeting hers. He smiles nervously, but there’s a flicker of that expression she’s seen a couple of times before, a slight darkening of his eyes as a shadow passes across them. They continue to stare at each other, neither one of them saying anything, although Phoebe wouldn’t be surprised if he can hear her heart thumping.
‘Anyway,’ the old man says pointedly, ‘I should go.’ He picks up his paper from the counter and kisses Luca on both cheeks. ‘Ciao, mio caro.’
