We bring our glasses together and savor our first sip of wine.
On reading the menu, we see that polenta has been translated as “cornmeal mush,” which makes us laugh—although, unsurprisingly, neither of us fancies it. Theo orders octopus then roast lamb, while I opt for aninsalata capresefollowed by seabass. Our waitress is skinny, with short hair in a mullet and a tattoo of a paw print on the side of her neck. She begins speaking to us in Italian and we congratulate ourselves on not standing out as much as we used to—before we have to admit defeat and ask her to switch to English. In the center of the piazza, a busker with a sound system is playing a clarinet along to backing tracks of love songs from films—currently “Unchained Melody,” fromGhost.
I tell Theo that Angelika confirmed Wilf and Arnaldo did indeed meet on this piazza when Wilf came to Italy. We imagine how Wilf must have felt to have given up everything and be alone and terrified, then to come here and finally be reunited with Arnaldo.
“Whatever either of them was feeling,” I say, “it must have been awful not to be able to express it.”
Theo turns his glass, gazing at the wine as it swirls around. “Can you imagine going through all that and not even being able to hug each other?”
“I just thought,” I burst out, “that’s the color I’m going to paint their old bedroom!”
“What?”
I nod at a building on the other side of the piazza. “Over there, that gorgeous honeycomb. In honor of their reunion in Italy!”
Theo grins. “Outstanding.”
As the light fades and the streetlights flicker on, the busker switches to “My Heart Will Go On” fromTitanic. Our starters arrive and I tuck into mycaprese. I find myself thinking about Mum and Gary on their first date in an Italian restaurant. I wonder what Mum ordered. Had she eaten it before?
“You’ve gone quiet,” Theo says. “What are you thinking about?”
I consider telling him about Mum’s letter and what I’ve found out. I probablyshouldtell him. And Iwantto tell him.
But this isn’t just about me. And I don’t want to spoil the evening.
“Just Wilf and Arnaldo,” I answer. “Thinking about them makes me appreciate how lucky we are.”
“Absolutely. We may have had our challenges, but nothing like what they had to go through.”
I nod, solemnly. “Does it make you feel a responsibility to get it right?”
Theo shrugs. “Itwouldif I didn’t want to get it right anyway. But the commitment’s already there.”
I smile. “It is for me, too.”
Theo puts down his glass and lays his hands flat on the table. “Besides, I feel like wearegetting it right.”
A voice in my head says,You need to tell him about Mum.
I dismiss it. “Me too.”
I gaze into his dazzling blue eyes, just like I did on our first night on the piazza. And, as the waitress moves in to top up our glasses, I lean forward and kiss him.
Chapter 33
The next day is A level results day, and I’m back on childcare duty. And after spending the day at Angelika’s pool, the kids and I have work to do.
In the morning, we move the furniture out of Mabel and Archie’s rooms and into the master bedroom of the new family suite. Like the first-floor lounges, this doesn’t need replastering, as its walls are made of exposed stone and the electrical wiring runs over them—encased in a steel trunking—which meant it was quick and simple to replace. As the new windows were fitted a few weeks ago, the room is pretty much finished. Callum has already slept in it for a few nights, while the builders were replastering his bedroom, and now they need to do the same to Mabel and Archie’s. Once we’ve hauled in the furniture, we spend a while shifting it around to partition the room and create separate spaces. I’m worried the kids might start falling out, but they seem to like the idea of spending a few nights together. Archie, in particular, views it as an adventure.
After lunch, the priority is moving Theo’s and my belongings out of the cottage and into Wilf’s old bedroom. The builders have already ripped out the kitchenette that was on the lower floor of the cottage—shortly after they ripped out the kitchen from themain house—in order to do the damp proofing. As we don’t need a second kitchen, we’re going to transform that level into a flexible space: it will mainly be a private lounge for Theo and me but will also have a sofa bed, so it can become another bedroom, and a table, so it has an added function as a secluded working area for Theo. The builders thought the only big job left was to strip out and refurbish the bathroom, but this morning discovered rotten floorboards that need replacing, pipes that need moving, and blocked, rusty radiators that need both—all of which is going to cost more money. And I’ve no idea how much I’ll be able to generate from the idea I had while talking to Angelika.
More pressingly, all the extra work means Theo and I have to move out. But Theo has back-to-back Zoom and phone meetings so isn’t available to help. And the kids were so good this morning, I said they could amuse themselves this afternoon. Thankfully, Giuseppe offers to step in.
Before he arrives, I pile Theo’s underwear and mine into a suitcase, then stuff in the boxes of letters and the stone. Then I lug the suitcase through to Wilf’s old bedroom and take the boxes out and tuck them under the wardrobe, which is where I originally found them. I’ve no idea when I’ll get a quiet moment to read Mum’s second letter. But again, I’m not sure that’s a bad thing.
Giuseppe and I drag through racks of clothes, bags of shoes, towels, toiletries and the basket of laundry. Each time we pass through the study, I mouth an apology for disturbing Theo. In return, he mouths an apology for not being able to help.
I make the final few trips alone while Giuseppe stays in the cottage to dismantle the rickety old MDF wardrobe. As I pass Theo one last time, he steps out of his Zoom meeting, puts his arms around my waist and nuzzles my neck.
