I looked at it for a few seconds then deleted it. Too desperate. Try again.
Me:Hey you! It’s Abi ?????? You know, from the pool. Didn’t think you were getting rid of me that easily, did you?
Hmm. No. Too stalky. I deleted that one too. Gah!
Me:Morning, Tony. I tried to catch you to tell you I’d changed my mind. Am I too late?
I pressed send before I had time to overthink it. Was it too mysterious? Would he know it was me? My photo would give it away if he checked, but he might immediately block unknown numbers. I sent another one.
Me:It’s Abi by the way.
Oh God, a double message. I hadn’t sent one of those to a guy in years. And it would probably have been to Josh when we first started dating. I was much freer and easier back then; I didn’t care about the game or the rules or any of that stuff, but it was too late to take it back now. The messages had gone through with one grey tick. I waited for the second, but it never came. Annoying. He must have his phone switched off. Or maybe he was still flying. Could he fly direct to LA from Florence or Pisa? Maybe he’d gone to Rome and stayed overnight. It was pointless running through the hundreds of possible scenarios. He’d gone and that was all I knew for a fact. I’d have to wait for Paolo and Mia to get back to find out what had happened unless Tony replied before then. It was too late to care now.Why hadn’t I said something when I had the chance?
I made my way upstairs, feeling miserable. I was back to where I’d started, with plenty of time on my hands and no one to play with. I half-heartedly considered revisiting my Tuscany-To-Do List before I went home. Viola was already cleaning the bedrooms and Tony’s door was wide open as I walked past. Empty of all his belongings, his bedding and towels in a pile on the floor. The room was stark and bare and would soon be turned around and ready to welcome the new guests, as if Tony had never been there. Viola ran downstairs with a pile of washing, as I loitered on the landing, and I turned back to take one last look. The sun beamed in through the balcony windows and caught on something the other side of his bed, glinting at the perfect angle to hit me in the eye. Had he left something behind? Viola would be in the laundry room for a few minutes, so I walked in, feeling like an intruder, and quickly crossed the room to check. Of course. It was his painting of me. He’d had it mounted and framed. I held it up, but I could barely look myself in the eye. The swirling banshee glared out at me and seemed to scream.What the hell were you thinking? Why did you let him go?
I didn’t know what to say. I’d let her down. I’d let myself down.
Twenty-two
Tuesday 3rdSeptember
The email confirmation came through, and I double-checked the details. Yes. All sorted to fly back to London the next day. I felt sad to leave, but it was time to go. I didn’t want to meet a second group of guests, like some weirdy live-in resident.Oh, don’t mind Abi – she’s been here a while.I wanted to get back to my flat and the cocoon of London life. I was starting to crave my little home. I checked out what was on at the cinema and the local pub, loosely slotting plans in for the week ahead. I wouldn’t be hanging around like a spare part when I got back, scratting about for someone to hang out with.
Group Chat:Kat! Sara! My fave HIIT babes! I’m back tomorrow night – fancy dinner this weekend? Can’t wait to see you both xx
Me:Hey bro, time to move out – I’m coming home tomorrow night – sorry!
Me:Phoebe!! How are things? Any bookings? I’m flying home tomorrow – let me know when you’re free for a chat!
That would do for now. I’d pen in a few social plans and throw myself back into things. There was still only one tick on my messages to Tony, which was a bit depressing. It didn’t make any sense. He must have landed by now. Unless he’d flown to the moon, or… he’d blocked me? Surely not. Although it would explain the single ticks. Oh my God, that must be it. Maybe he’d just wanted to go home and forget he ever knew me. After all, I’d made my feelings clear. Why would he want to stay in touch?
Me: Hols – time for me to head back to London ? I’ve booked a flight home for tomorrow. Are you free for dinner? Also, do you think Tony might have blocked me? I’m only getting one tick on my messages.
I looked around my room. The half-empty bottle of limoncello from that first night together gleamed luminous in my welcome basket, next to the uneaten cakes and snacks. That first day when Mia had shown me in and pointed everything out felt like a lifetime ago. My clothes hung neatly in the wardrobe; shoes lined up by the door. It had been fun calling somewhere else home for a few weeks, but it was time to go back to the real world.
I slid my suitcase out from under the bed to get a head start on packing, pulling my dresses off their hangers, one by one, and folding them into colourful puffs. I left my long, purple dress out for dinner with Holly. One last wear before it was put into hibernation for the winter. I wouldn’t get much use out of it in London. I threw my make-up and toiletries into my packing cube and zipped it up. Everything in its place and ready to go. The weather was still sunny and gorgeous, and I wanted to make the most of swimming outside for one last day. I ran down to the pool and walked straight into Paolo, hopping along past the stairs.
‘Ooh, argh, sorry, Paolo,’ I said, as one of his crutches clattered to the floor.
‘Abi! How are you?’
‘I’m OK,’ I said, picking it up for him. He was the spitting image of Tony, and I couldn’t help but think about what he might be up to. It felt so strange here without him. ‘How is your leg?’
‘Healing nicely. The doctor said another month in plaster, and it should be fixed.’
‘Perfetto!’ I smiled; glad he was on the mend. ‘Oh – I need to tell you I’ll be checking out tomorrow.’ I’d been here so long, I felt guilty for leaving. As if I was resigning from a much-loved job.
‘Nooo!’ He looked genuinely crestfallen. ‘We have got used to having you here. You are like one of the family now.’
‘I know! I’ve had such a wonderful time, but I can’t stay here forever.’
‘Well, you are welcome back, anytime,’ Paolo said, scratching his head. ‘Tony will be sorry to miss you when he comes back.’
My stomach dropped. ‘Tony’s coming back?’
‘Yes, on Friday.’
‘That was a quick trip to LA?’
