I gaze out at the sea, which is nestled in the V between two mountains, the diminishing foothills of a third stretching behind it, as if wrapping it in an embrace. The sunlight is reflected on the sea’s surface, so it shimmers, almost winking at us.
“It’s like something out of a fairy tale,” Theo says, rubbing stubble on his chin that—even though he’s about to turn forty-seven—is only just flecked with gray.
“I know.” I turn to face him. “And it’s got so much potential.”
“Yeah, but there are loads of jobs that need doing,” he points out. “I’ve already spotted a few rotten window frames and missing roof tiles.”
I take a swig of my wine. “And there’s the damp.”
“And a couple of leaks.”
I let out a long sigh.
The sun has started slipping down the sky. Soon it’ll be setting. When I was little—and the weather was half-decent, which wasn’t guaranteed in Manchester—I used to watch the sunset with my mum. She used to say it was our way of saying goodbye to the day. The two of us would sit on a wooden bench in our back garden and look out over the playing fields. But these have since beenturned into a housing estate and Mum’s been dead for over thirty years. Thirty-four to be exact: I was eleven at the time.
I stand up. “You know what, if we’re going to see the castle, we should probably get up there—it’ll be dark soon.”
Theo tips back what’s left of his wine. “Yeah, come on.”
We walk around the chapel, find the path and begin our climb. Well, Signor Mancini called it a climb but if he’d known the wordscramble, I’m sure he’d have used that. The hill’s steep and there’s been no attempt to flatten the earth, so we have to cling onto stones, trunks and tree roots to haul ourselves up. When we finally reach the top, we stop to dust ourselves down, then push through the thick overgrowth, taking care not to prick ourselves on the brambles. I’m glad my legs are covered with jeans but wish I was wearing long sleeves. By the time we emerge in a clearing, I’ve picked up several scratches on my arms.
The land in front of me is stepped and there are thin strips of wall visible between the different levels. But that seems to be all that remains of the castle—which is strange as looking up from below, the walls were several meters high. I realize that the rooms of the castle must have been filled in with earth, which would explain why they have so many bushes and trees growing out of them. I wonder if it would be possible to dig the earth out again and restore the castle’s basic structure.
We find a spot on a stone wall, only half of which is intact: the other has fallen away. We sit down and go back to enjoying the view over the valley. It’s pretty much the same as it was from outside the house but the higher vantage point makes it even more breathtaking. It’s also much quieter up here, with none of the sounds of cars or motorbikes. And there’s less birdsong—only the odd tweet.
The sun’s about to disappear behind the mountain and is spilling out rays of pumpkin, apricot and peach.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been anywhere as beautiful,” I tell Theo.
“I know. And it’s so romantic.” He takes hold of my hand. “It makes me realize how much I love you, Adam.”
He moves in to kiss me on the lips.
“I love you too, Theo.” I snuggle up and rest my head on his shoulder.
Even though we’ve only been going out for eighteen months, I’ve already decided I want to spend the rest of my life with him. He’s all I’ve ever wanted.
But I’ve always worried that the turmoil around Theo’s divorce—plus the hostility from his kids—might one day get in the way, that it might lead him to the conclusion that the relationship is more trouble than it’s worth, that all the negativity weighing down on him might overwhelm the love he says he feels.
I tell myself that we could come here to get away from the stress and negativity. This could be our happy place.
There must be some way of keeping it. …
I sit up. “I just thought, I could apply for voluntary redundancy. I’m sure they’d give it to me: if I went they could hire someone younger and cheaper. And you know the job doesn’t make me happy. I’ve been bored of it for years.”
Theo blows out his cheeks. “I’ve always said you’re wasted in it. You could do with a change.”
“Well, now I’ve got one—or the chance of one.” I feel excitement taking hold. “I’ve been in the job for more than ten years so I’m pretty sure I’d get a year’s salary. If I threw in my savings I’d probably have enough to pay the inheritance taxanddo some basic renovations. Although we might have to chip in and do some of the work ourselves.”
Theo inches forward. “That’s OK. But what would happen afterwards? How would you earn a living?”
“I’d put it on the market as a holiday let.”
“Is there a demand for that?”
“I don’t know but I imagine so—loads of people come here on holiday. And I think it’s mainly posh people with money.”
Theo tilts his head so it catches the sun’s rays, taking on a tinge of apricot. “Would you manage it yourself?”
