Viola looked at me thoughtfully for a moment. ‘Maybe as only us, we do your idea?’ she said, hesitantly. ‘The yoga and the dogs.’
‘Really?!’ My shoulders dropped and I felt tearful. ‘Can the puppies come and play?’
‘We try it,’ she said, resigned to the nonsense of the modern world.
I ran back into the farmhouse and opened their crate. All three of them jumped up in excitement, wagging their little tails, then took it in turns to yawn and stretch. I piled the three of them into my arms and took them outside, all snuggled together, like a furry, curly pillow.
‘We’ll have to take it in turns,’ I said, as I held on to Nero and handed over Bianco and Toppa.
‘I don’t know how, but we try,’ Viola said, placing a puppy on each knee. Nero tucked himself into my lap as I closed my eyes for the opening meditation. Maybe saying no to pets all this time had been a bad idea. Nero was so pure and cute. He was love personified. My ‘no men, no pets’ approach had been starving me of joy. I lay on my back with Nero on my stomach and he stared up at me, his face completely trusting as I moved from position to position, rolling him around. Viola had an additional layer of serenity to her practice with the puppies joining in, happily balanced, enjoying the game.
It was a lovely way to start the day under the circumstances – an entire hour where I couldn’t help but forget the drama of the night before. I covered myself with a blanket, and Nero snuggled down for Viola’s final incantation. I knew what was coming: the meditation and chanting, followed by the now familiar sound of cymbals to mark the end of the session. When Viola sang the last few verses, Nero’s impatient little bum started to shuffle. He couldn’t sit still any longer. I took deep breaths as he walked along my body and started to lick my face. I managed to keep my eyes closed, until he eventually tongued me in the mouth.
‘Pffft! Get off!’ I laughed, pushing his little nose away as he stood strong, staring me down, proud of himself for summoning me from the dead. ‘OK, buddy, that’s enough dominance for one day,’ I said, lifting him off me.
‘Namaste,’ Viola said, bowing, a puppy in each hand.
‘Namaste,’ I replied.
She blew out her candle and smiled and we both waited a moment before speaking.
‘I loved that!’ I said, feeling much better. ‘The puppies are distracting, but in a good way.’ Ordinarily, yoga gave me far too much thinking time – I was always fighting with my thoughts to try and get some much-needed zen. The puppies were a genius way to stay mindful while doing the positions.
‘They are good energy,’ Viola said, reluctantly. ‘Calm.’
I picked up my mat and put Nero on the floor, free to roam once more with his brothers.
‘I get your breakfast today,’ Viola said. ‘But no pancakes.’
‘Is Paolo not here, either?’ I was desperate to find out why Tony had left so abruptly.
‘No, is me. They have appointment in Florence. For Paolo’s leg.’
I’d been almost completely abandoned. I needed to see Holly and get the latest from Phoebe. It felt like it was time for me to head back to London. I’d already stayed way longer than I’d expected to. I needed to get on with my life. Everyone else had.
‘Viola – I don’t suppose you have Tony’s phone number, do you? I know you don’t have a mobile phone, so probably not…’
‘Si. Mia wrote phone numbers down, for emergency.’
‘Ah, brilliant! Can I have it? I didn’t get chance to say goodbye before he left.’
‘You no have his number?’ Viola tutted. ‘Is by phone.’
I was elated at this unexpected win. At least I’d be able to get in touch with him – even if the horse had already bolted. I picked up my phone and re-played Tony’s film. Mia had put it on Instagram and it had nearly five hundred likes already. He’d captured me in his photos and videos, in the same way he’d painted me in his picture. Laughing, light, happy. The Abi I used to be before the never-ending waves of grief had pulled me under. There seemed to be more ofmein his film than thevineyard. Maybe he was trying to tell me something. But then why had he up and left like that? Without even saying goodbye? Why did everyone seem to leave without saying goodbye? I heard a little squeak at my feet and Nero was sat looking up at me, next to a tiny tennis ball. At least he was still here.
‘And how can I help you?’ I asked, as if I didn’t know. I picked up the ball and Bianco and Toppa came tumbling over to play. I threw it across the field and the three of them raced, full of glee, to get to it first. Unadulterated joy. Bianco brought it back proudly and dropped it at my feet, and I threw it again. The delight on their little faces as they ran off a second time had me doing it again and again, lost in the moment, the pleasure of doing nothing but spreading a little happiness.
‘Abi, it’s nearly 10 a.m.,’ Viola called, breaking my throwing rhythm. ‘Would you like some breakfast?’
‘Is it?!’ I’d completely lost track of time. ‘Sorry, Viola, some fruit and yoghurt would be great, please.’
‘And coffee?’
‘Of course!’ How would I ever go back to my skinny soya latte with an extra shot after indulging in the realItaliandeal for a month. A whole month. The time had flown by and I felt rested and ready to get back to work. But first – Tony’s number. I threw the ball one last time and went inside. There was a Post-it stuck on the desk next to the phone, with a short list of phone numbers scrawled in red biro. Paolo, Mia, Gino, Holly, Xavier and finally… Tony. I carefully copied it into my contacts, making sure to add the +39 then checked it was his photo on WhatsApp. Yep. There he was. Smiling on a beach, holding up a cold beer. It was him.
Now I just needed to decide what to say. I was still in my sweaty yoga gear as I walked out onto the patio, but I didn’t see much point in getting changed before breakfast. Viola had laid out the cutest little table for me. Freshly squeezed orange juice, a cappuccino, a platter of melon and strawberries, and a selection of mini pastries. The swimming pool looked glossy and inviting and the swallows were singing in the lemon trees. What more could you ask for a perfect breakfast? Tony. I missed him turning up at every opportunity. Or even just thinking he might. Knowing he was around somewhere and that hewouldeventually show up. I’d taken him for granted, and now he was gone, and I’d probably never see him again. I opened WhatsApp and started typing a message.
Me:Hi Tony, you left without saying goodbye!
