I frowned, trying to understand. ‘Do you mean accidentally? By mistake?’
‘Not a mistake,’ Viola said. ‘Driving in the car.’
‘She’s driven all the way to Florence?’
‘For the boys and the accident.’
My heart missed a beat as I realised what she was saying. ‘The boys? Paolo and Tony have had an accident?’
She nodded, looking fretful. ‘Si. I think, but not knowing for definitely.’
Oh God. I knew that Vespa wasn’t safe. Images of Paolo and Tony sprawled unconscious on the side of a road somewhere flashed through my mind.
‘Are they hurt?’ I whispered, panic rising in my throat.
Viola looked completely lost. ‘I asleep when Mia call. She ask me do the breakfast, so I am here to do the breakfast.’
‘And you don’t know what happened?’ I felt sick. ‘Shall we call Mia and check everything is OK?’
‘No phone,’ Viola said, shaking her head. ‘I waiting and praying for her call.’
‘We can use my phone – I’ve got her number,’ I said, hurriedly opening WhatsApp, where the photo of Tony Mia had sent me, immediately popped up.
‘She left in the kitchen.’ Viola pulled Mia’s phone out of her apron. ‘Rushing to the hospital.’
‘They’re in hospital?’ I parroted back, trying to decide if that was good news. They weren’t dead then. Not yet anyway.
Viola nodded. ‘I think, yes. In hospital.Mamma mia, non lo so… I get you more coffee.’ She walked off, muttering to herself in Italian. It was happening again, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
*
It had been hours without any news. Viola shrugged and shook her head in despair every time we crossed paths. They could at least have called and let her know what was happening. What kind of crappy communication system was this? Viola didn’t have a mobile phone, so we were relying on them calling the landline for an update, and what bloody use was that?
‘They very rarely leave the vineyard,’ Holly had said, apologetically, when I called. ‘I’ve never needed their mobile numbers, and they’ve never offered. Sorry, Abs, they’ll be back soon enough, I’m sure.’
‘Unless they’re seriously hurt,’ I replied.
‘I’m sure we’d know by now if they were,’ Holly reassured me. But she didn’t know. Nobody did. I rearranged myself on the sun lounger and put my headphones back on to block out my thoughts. The dance music was working well. Transporting me back to Ibiza. I’d already busied myself for an hour finishing my painting of Tony, and there was nothing else to do. My fresh eyes had decided it needed a bit of sparkle. Some gold leaf layered in around the edges. A modern-day religious fresco, with Sistine Chapel vibes. The Italian artists had somehow infiltrated my creative notions and I couldn’t see any other way to do it. I’d taken those early colour blocks and transformed Tony into a paintbrush-wielding god.
I must have dropped off to sleep, but the change in atmosphere woke me way before the puppies started barking and running towards the gate. For a blissful second, I forgot there was anything wrong and then my stomach clenched as I remembered. My phone blinked14:00. Where the hell were they? I stretched and looked around, just in time to see Mia turning into the drive. Paolo was clearly visible in the front seat, with his arm in a sling. But no Tony. I leapt up and ran to meet the car, desperate to know, but afraid to find out, what had happened.
‘Buonasera, Paolo,’ I said, pulling open the passenger door. ‘Welcome home, thank goodness you’re safe!’
‘Grazie, Abi. It is good to be back.’
He gave me a weak smile and Mia looked pale and tired.
‘Are you OK?’ I asked.
She nodded. ‘I’m not used to driving so far and the roads are…’ she paused, choosing her words carefully.
The worddangeroussprang to mind, but I didn’t want to offer it up. ‘Chaotic?’ I tried.
‘…a challenge.’ She nodded, stumbling out of the car. I didn’t ask about Tony, but surely, they’d be in bits if something awful had happened. Paolo’s arm was in full plaster inside the sling, and so was his leg.
‘What happened?’ I asked, double-checking the back of the Uno. I should have told Tony about Josh, made him more cautious, run after the bike and convinced them to go in the car. I could see him in my mind’s eye, half-frowning, half-smiling –Vespas are the best way to travel in Italy. How wrong he’d been.
‘It was an accident,’ Paolo mumbled. ‘A car going much too fast.’ He was completely dazed and highly medicated. Clearly away with the fairies.
