To my relief, Giuseppe seems to be reveling in the attention. I try not to notice that the other builders are scurrying off with their heads down. Arjan, in particular, looks terrified.
Wait a minute, what would they be like if a few straight women had arrived and were flirting with them?
“Come on, let me show you girls round,” I suggest, brightly.
I start with the castle, which I know will be empty since the diggers left at lunchtime—not to mention away from the builders. Even though the newly constructed path and steps make the climb much easier, Gloria struggles in heels—and it doesn’t help that he’s vaping.
“I feel like those queens at the end ofPriscilla, Queen of the Desert,” he groans. “When they’re climbing Ayers Rock, or whatever it’s called now.”
“Uluru,” provides Ian.
“Try saying that with a mouthful of cock,” Gloria chirps.
Everyone cackles. I glance behind us to check the kids aren’t in earshot but they’ve gone inside.
When Gloria reaches the top of the hill, he tugs on his vape, and lets out a long, pink plume. “Ladies, gentlemen, friends, family, fans … I hereby declare the queens have arrived at the castle!”
Despite the fanfare, we’re not able to explore much of it as the majority is marked out for the dig. But we step around the markings and I am at least able to show the girls the view.
“You know, this would make an amazing meditation space,” comments Ian.
“Do you think if I went to sleep, a handsome prince would wake me up with a kiss?” says Gloria, adopting a breathy, distressed, female voice.
“As if you’d settle for a kiss,” pipes Dom.
“Yeah, I’d at least want a blowie!”
The cackling accompanies us down to the olive grove, where Gloria skips around in a flight of fantasy. “You know, I’ve always wanted to be ravaged in an olive grove by a rough Italian farmhand.”
I give him a wry smile. “You might want to be careful. We saw a snake around here the other day.”
Gloria narrows his eyes. “Now you’re talking!”
When we make it back to the house, the builders are just leaving and I feel the relief wash over me. We enter through the cottage and I give our visitors a tour. All three of them love it and they each have ideas on how they’d transform it if they were in charge of the refurb. Dom would turn the big lounge into a home gym, for example, while Ian would turn it into a coaching studio and Gloria would turn it into a disco room—complete with dance floor, stage and bar.
“Speaking of bars, is anyone going to crack open some fizz?” warbles Gloria. “My mouth’s drier than a nun’s snatch.”
From outside, I hear the kids squabbling and feel a rush of fear: soon we’ll all be out there together.
We go down to the kitchen and I serve everyone drinks, including an extra-large one for myself. I also take a chicken cacciatore I’ve prepared out of the fridge and slide it into the oven. Then I bite the bullet and invite everyone to sit at the table, gabbling nervously about the new chairs I bought. I busy myself spreading out nibbles, as the kids huddle around Theo—as if for safety—at one end.
“I can’t get over how beautiful this place is,” says Ian, marveling at the surroundings. “It’s like being on a film set.”
Gloria looks around and nods. “I could get used to it. Lounging around in my kaftan, nipping to the opera on my Vespa … what else do Italians do?”
“Going to church on a Sunday,” says Dom, joining his hands in prayer. “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.”
“Girl, I’d be in there all day!”
The three of them laugh.
I feel buoyed up by my sisters’ positive energy and lack of inhibition, their pride in who they are. But Archie seems quieter than usual and a little overwhelmed, plus Callum and Mabel just sit there, stony-faced. I’ve no idea how Theo’s feeling.
Gloria takes a drag on his vape and lets out another pink plume. “Now then, how well do you kids know our Addy?”
A cold slick of dread passes through me.
“They’ve been getting to know each other,” offers Theo.
