It was a little like Gabri’s place, with old wooden fixtures and walls rendered not quite smooth, but it had a high roof with a winding staircase leading to a mezzanine sleeping area. On the small dining table was a floral tablecloth and a vase of sunflowers.
‘With flowers, too. This is lovely – thank you.’
‘These flowers are nothing,’ Donatella said with a shrug. ‘I wanted to order bouquets for all the rooms from Gabri, but he closed down the shop this week, so I had to improvise! But don’t worry, he assures me everything is ready for the wedding on Friday and he’ll be here soon to start preparing. You’ll like Gabri. He’s very good – and handsome too, which doesn’t hurt.’
Toni wondered if Donatella had ever been involved with Gabri, remembering his friend Cristina from the bar in Procchio, but she decided he couldn’t have slept his way around the entire island.
‘As per your instructions, the bridal couple have an intricate bouquet of lilies in their room. I drove to Porto Azzurro myself to buy them – and the hamper of local specialities. We have our own peaches, which are particularly delicious this year. The peach, it’s such a romantic fruit!’
Toni hoped her renewed blush wasn’t showing. Yes, she’d eaten peaches with Gabri on a beautiful beach while the sun set, but that hadn’t been romantic. Well, it hadn’t meant anything, anyway.
‘I hope you included some schiacciata.’
Only when Donatella’s brows rose in surprise did Toni realise the other woman didn’t know she’d already spent a week on the island – and she wasn’t about to tell her.
‘It’s my favourite,’ she blurted out to cover her awkwardness.
Arriving back in Portoferraio to collect Cilli and Daphne, it was strange to see the little table where she’d enjoyed her first Italian espresso – and flirted rather outrageously with a stranger who’d turned out to be Gabriele Orzati – a week ago. Without the sight of him there, leaning over his coffee cup, it was as though none of it had ever happened. Probably, part of her brain was simply preparing for everything she had to hide when her family arrived on the ferry that was making its way slowly into the harbour.
She felt adrift and torn, one version of herself still up in the hills escaping real life with Gabri, another version dressed professionally for a wedding, and another desperately watching the progress of the ferry.
When she saw her son, all of those versions were sucked into one – or rather, those other two faded as her real identity shimmered into focus with the joy that rose in her chest. He waved and came running in her direction on his skinny legs, launching himself at her when he came close.
A long exhale. The empty place in her arms filled again. Home. And an unexpected twinge for Gabri, who insisted he couldn’t cope with this amount of love. The pressure in her chest squeezed her lungs almost until it was unbearable. She understood his reluctance, the intimate bond between love and tragedy.
But Toni had known tragedy and she’d do it all again for this moment, holding her son – Miro’s son – close.
‘I had an ice cream already! You were right, Mum! Italian ice cream issogood. I had a flavour called Sicilian lemon. Granny says all the food will be good because Italy.’
Smoothing his hair back from his face, she grinned down at him, nowhere near ready to let him go. ‘Because Italy, hmm? Sounds about right. Did you enjoy the trip? Planes, trains and boats?’
‘We took a car, a plane, two trains, a bus and then the ferry! That’s four different types of transport and six vehicles!’
Daphne huffed to join them, dragging her enormous suitcase. ‘And I can feel all six of them in my legs! Especially the last one.’
‘You’re here now, Mum, and I’m so happy to see you.’ Toni wrapped one arm around her mother and squeezed, still unwilling to let go of Cilli with her other arm.
‘Don’t tell me you missed us!’
‘Of course I did,’ Toni contradicted her with a smile, looking down at Cilli as she continued, ‘but I can’t wait to show you the island. I’m pretty sure this is going to be your favourite place in the world.’
‘I don’t think so, Mum. Have you forgotten about Legoland?’
‘Legoland was great but wait until you see the beaches here – and our little cabin near the sea,’ she replied, ruffling his hair.
‘Sounds like we won’t want to leave,’ Daphne said emphatically, allowing Toni to take the suitcase as they headedfor the hire car, a Fiat Panda the same orange as the clay roofs of Marciana Marina. She was thankful for the four-wheel drive, since the roads around Capoliveri were just as steep and windy as the ones Gabri had navigated for her last week.
Cillian put his rucksack into the boot and detached the booster seat, setting it into the back himself. Toni had been told by every teacher during every year of school that he was very mature and independent for his age and, while she was endlessly proud of him, she also knew that independence came at a cost and he might put too much pressure on himself if she didn’t try to ease his burden.
As he clicked on his seat belt and pulled the door closed, Daphne grasped Toni’s arms and inspected her with the shadows of Toni’s own cocktail of parental concern. ‘You look good.’
‘It’s been a week, Mum. Not a month.’
‘Still, there’s some new colour on your skin – a glow.’
There was definitely a glow in her cheeks at the direction of her thoughts. She hated to think what Daphne would say if she told her how many of those condoms she’d used in the end. She still had a faint graze on her chest from Gabri’s bristles, hidden beneath the collar of her dress.
‘I’ve spent a lot of time in the sun, I guess.’
