Seb turned to Dad. ‘Was that in Spain?’
Dad shook his head.
‘It was at Lake Garda in Italy,’ I said. ‘Me and Cass used to love hearing the story. Is it OK if I tell it, Dad?’ Dad smiled by way of an answer. ‘They were both eighteen, just finished school and they’d each travelled to Lake Garda to work in a hotel forthe summer. Mum was waitressing, Dad was behind the bar. Mum couldn’t speak Spanish back then, and Dad had very little English, so they communicated in the little Italian they both knew. My mum always used to say Dad wooed her by talking about pasta, as he’d only made it as far as the food module in his Italian classes. Anyway, by the end of the summer, they were engaged.’
‘Engaged?’ Seb turned to Dad. ‘How on earth did you manage that when you couldn’t speak the same language?’ Dad did his best attempt at a raised eyebrow, and Seb laughed. ‘Alberto, you sly old dog.’
‘Ro…romantic,’ said Dad.
‘Anyway,’ I said, keen to move the conversation on from my dad’s non-verbal seduction techniques. ‘Dad followed Mum back to England and the rest, as they say, is history.’
‘Did you ever go back to Lake Garda as a family?’
‘No, me and Cass begged and begged. But even if we’d had the money, I think Mum and Dad wanted to keep it as their special place. Is that right?’
Dad nodded, his eyes cloudy as he travelled back to a time and place when his body had worked properly, and he still had the love of his life by his side. I watched him, wondering if I’d ever get to experience a love like my parents had shared. Don’t get me wrong, their marriage wasn’t perfect, but at the heart of it was a deep respect and friendship that always saw them through challenging times. I swallowed a lump in my throat as I remembered the way mum and dad would dance around the house together, play Scrabble in the evening, take turns to make each other cups of tea in the morning. Simple gestures of love that were taken for granted until they were gone.
Sensing the shift in mood, Seb attempted to bring us back to the present. ‘I’m afraid our lake can’t compete with Lake Gardain size or grandeur, but I’m hopeful we can create some special memories of our own here.’
‘Un lugar feliz. With… Liv,’ said Dad.
Seb’s cheeks flared red, and he almost dropped his oars. ‘Oh, um, well…’
‘He was talking about the project, Dad. We’re going to make amazing memories with the people who come and stay here.’
‘To… gether.’
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Together.’ Unable to look at Seb, I focused my gaze over his shoulder to where my dad sat, head tilted to the sky, his skin less creased than I had seen in a long time. If I ever found even a fraction of the love my parents had shared, I’d be happy with my lot.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Despite labelling it as a meeting, Seb had invited me to his cabin after dinner and promised wine beside an open fire. I didn’t want to look as though I expected anything more than a productive evening pooling ideas for the project, so had selected a clean pair of jeans and my favourite teal jumper to wear. The temptation to apply more makeup than usual was strong, but given we’d be eating dinner with the other residents first, I was reluctant to draw attention to myself and raise any eyebrows.
Since deciding to end my marriage, I felt three stone lighter, as though the weight of waiting for Rob to hand me my fate had been dragging me down. There had been no calls from Marion’s landline since my rash announcement, and I was no further forward with divorce proceedings, but at least I felt more in control.
‘Can I come to Seb’s house with you?’ asked Bertie.
‘No, we’ve talked about this. You’ve got your first band concert tomorrow. You need to get an early night.’
‘What if I can’t sleep?’
‘Maggie and Stephan will be downstairs, so if you can’t sleep, find them and they’ll tuck you in again. Mind you, after cleaning out all the animals with Harry after school, I don’t think you’ll have any trouble sleeping. Now go and wash your hands ready for dinner.’
Bertie shuffled out of the room, and I checked the messages on my phone. Nothing.
‘Ready,’ said Bertie, waiting for me by the door. I’d told him Rob was back in town, but Bertie hadn’t yet asked to see him. I’d need to arrange a meeting soon, but had decided to give Bertie time to settle into his new school before disrupting his life further.
It was Andrea and Christine’s turn to cook dinner. Having decided to stay on an extra month, their time at Lowen Farm was now drawing to a close. The healthy vegetable casserole they served was greeted with thanks, but as Pat and Harry pushed cauliflower around their bowls, it was clear they were hankering after something more meaty.
The last thing I wanted was to offend Andrea and Christine, but with my stomach doing somersaults, it was hard to force the tasteless dish down and my bowl was still half-full by the end of the meal.
‘Sorry,’ I said, as Andrea cleared my bowl. ‘Me and Bertie had a big lunch and are still full.’
Bertie kept his eyes on the table, happy to go along with my lie.
‘It appears everyone had a big lunch today,’ said Christine with a sigh. ‘I’m sorry everyone, I’m trying the approach of healthy body, healthy mind, but it was rather lacking in the taste department, wasn’t it?’
‘No, it was lovely,’ lied Harry.
