‘You never know,’ Daphne defended herself, looking away. ‘I’m just certain in your situation, you won’t have been thinking about protecting yourself.’
‘I’m not thinking I’llneedprotecting,’ she said through gritted teeth. ‘My friend isn’t going to take me out on the town and you know how awful I found it when I went on those blind dates you encouraged me to go on.’
Daphne sighed, which was worse than her blushing hints about sex. She snatched the pouch out of Toni’s hands and tucked it firmly into a side pocket of the suitcase. ‘I do know,’ she said with a note of finality. ‘I know it feels too complicated for you to build something permanent with someone, so you’llforgive a mother for wantingsomesmall thing that might make you feel a little less alone, even if it’s just for a night.’
‘I’m okay alone,’ she insisted. ‘I have to be. I have Cilli to think about and I’m not going to jump into a relationship that might blow up on both of us.’
‘Which is why I gave you the condoms,’ Daphne whispered. ‘While you’re away, nobody would know. You can… step out of normal life.’
Toni shook her head, ignoring the prickle at her hairline. Even if she were prepared to have a fling, she wouldn’t have the faintest idea how to make one happen. She didn’t imagine attractive men walked up to off-duty mums and struck up conversations in real life.
‘Iamstepping out of normal life,’ she insisted, ‘with a girlfriend, for a week of sunbathing and relaxing.’
Daphne reached a hand up; she seemed to be getting even smaller as she aged and Toni had towered over her mum since she was twelve years old anyway. Smoothing her daughter’s hair with so much care that Toni could never resent her for anything, she gave a sad smile and said, ‘Just remember that life’s still out there, sweetheart.’
Toni waved off her father at Southampton airport the following morning and breathed for the first time in hours, allowing her smile to slip. She had no little hand to hold, no cuddles to steal from the gangly boy her son had grown into. Without him, she was a square with a corner chopped off – a shape no one could name.
The tingle of anticipation was there too. She had a cardigan over her new summer dress for the early-morning English chill,looking forward to the Tuscan sun on her skin in a few hours. But she couldn’t enjoy the anticipation if she didn’t also allow herself to feel bereft first.
What a mess of a life. The good always came with the bad and she had to accept both.
Taking herself through security with lots of time to spare – it was quick when there was no child paraphernalia to chug through on the conveyor belt – she grabbed a sugary coffee with cream on top and claimed a table at a chain café, glad she’d decided to arrive early.
Pulling out the slim tablet Sophie had issued her with, she scrolled down the enormous list of preparations, from fabric to fondant – or from aisle to zero waste, since Sophie would nevernotalphabetise a list.
An email dropped in while she was perusing the list, as though Sophie were telepathic as well as supremely organised.
Hi Toni
If you’re seeing this, get off your emails and open a book! You’ve got this! We went over the checklist, the hotel manager knows what she’s doing and we’ve anticipated everything it’s possible to anticipate. I’m so glad you’ve taken this week to yourself beforehand. The island is one of my favourite places in the world and I’m instructing you as your supervisor on this occasion to enjoy yourself!
Lots of love
Sophie
Why did everyone think she wasn’t capable of enjoying herself? She shot off a quick reply:
You’re right. It’ll be fine and I’ll be a bit more tanned – and hopefully a lot more chilled out – after a week on the beach.
She was intending to explore the island and its flora with Gabri, rather than spending all her time on the beach, but since everyone seemed to think she needed rest, she’d let them think it.
Her phone buzzed with a message from Gabri:
I’ve got all your details and I’ll meet your ferry at Portoferraio this afternoon. I have a blue Fiat 500 and a cream linen shirt. See you then xx
With a zing of excitement that this was actually happening, Toni allowed herself to really wonder what Gabri might look like. She imagined wavy, dark hair, practical clothes for the outdoors, but with Italian flair – a scarf, perhaps, not that Toni knew anything about style.
No matter what she looked like, Toni was ready to like her immensely.
3
It was busy at the port. Of course it was. July was always busy at the port and Gabri stubbornly refused to accept it every time he had to take a trip to Portoferraio, the biggest town on the island. The only parking space for miles was miles away – not actual miles. Exaggerating was a bad habit – one of many that were causing background nerves at the prospect of a week spent with another person after living blessedly alone for more than five years.
But Toni Goschl wasn’t a stranger. He’d become a friend over the course of a year of chatting online. And besides, a man who worked for an outdoor travel company had to be used to rustic accommodations – and Gabri’s house was certainly rustic.
Leaving the car mercifully in the shade of a scrubby pine, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his cropped linen trousers and made his way along the waterfront, the sun making him squint even behind his aviators. Over his shoulder, the historic centre spread out along a peninsula, colourful render and red roofs. The ferries docked by the esplanade lined by palm trees and squat, modern apartment buildings.
Portoferraio was only a fraction of the size of Milan, the city that had made him, but leaving the sanctuary of his hillside shack for what counted as the big smoke on the island always made him jittery. Motorini zipped past and he couldn’t smell anything except salt water and a hint of petrol fumes.
