Page 56 of A Place in the Sun
I freeze and pull back from the embrace. ‘What did you just call me?’ I feel as if I’ve had a bucket of ice poured over me.
25
‘It’s just a term of affection,’ says Giovanni, as I release myself from our joyous hug. I’m in shock, berating myself. No one has called mecara, no one except Marco. What was I thinking? I’m hugging a man, who is calling me the same name. How could I have let this happen? I can’t just wipe out the memory of Marco and replace him with another man. And not just any man …
He’s a friend, someone who’s helping me and I’m helping him too. He’s not Marco, despite the similarities, the generous spirit, the big build and the way everything feels better when he’s around. Guilt washes through me. I can’t replace Marco with him. He’s not Marco. Marco isn’t here, where he should be. I’ve crossed a line and I shouldn’t have.
I step away and start walking back up the hill towards Casa Luna on the way to La Tavola.
‘Thea, I’m sorry. Honestly, it’s just a friendly term. I wasn’t trying to …’ he says, as he follows me. ‘I thought you wanted it too. I misread things.’
I know I overreacted, but hearing someone other than Marco call mecaramakes me feel that somehow I’ve just walked all over Marco’s and my memories. Careered into them, like an eight-year-old in charge of a double-decker bus.
How could I do that to him, to the children?
‘It’s fine!’ I call to Giovanni. ‘But I have to get back now!’ But none of this is fine. It’s really not. I’ve been foolish, letting down my guard. I’ve fallen into the comfort and safety of Giovanni’s arms, letting him think that’s where I want to be. How could I? I’m not here for a relationship! I had one, which I treasured … still treasure. I can’t allow another man to step into Marco’s place, no matter how good it felt, how reassuring, how I wanted him. I can’t have him. I’m not free to fall for anyone else. I’m still Marco’s wife. I feel I’ve betrayed him. Tears spring to my eyes.
I break into a run towards Casa Luna.
Really, I’m happy on my own. It’s where my heart is safest, for the children’s and my sake. Even if I did want to be with someone else, I could never be with a man like Giovanni. He’s too much like Marco. I couldn’t put myself through the highs and lows of that again.
I turn the handle, shove open the door and runupstairs to the bedroom, still skipping over the fourth step even though it’s no longer broken.
I shut my bedroom door and throw myself onto the bed. I can hear the children outside playing on the rope swing Giuseppe helped them put up this afternoon, making it secure, now the goats have cleared the garden.
I turn on my back.Cara. That name.
I remember Stella and sit bolt upright. Was I the only one Marco was callingcara? After all, it’s just a term of affection.
I have to leave here. Just as soon as the cookery weekend is over. I shouldn’t have started to enjoy this place so much. It was never going to be for ever. I let my guard down. I shouldn’t have. For the children’s sake. I look around the room. The walls have been plastered, the woodwork repaired. Next Giovanni, Alessandro and Enrico will paint it and then the place will be ready to sell. I sit up slowly and look out of the window. The goats are trimming the lawn as the sun starts to set. I wonder what the garden will look like this time next year.
Who will buy the house? Who will sit here? I have to remind myself it won’t be me. But there’s one thing I need to do before I go. Giovanni’s right: I have to find Stella and speak to her. Find out exactly how friendly she and Marco were.
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‘Argh!Mamma!Quick!Mamma!’ There’s a shriek from the garden.
I throw myself off the bed and out onto the landing, then take the stairs two at a time. ‘Luca! Aimee!’
‘Mammaaaaa!’ squeals Aimee.
I run to the back door, but can’t see them.
‘Where are you?’ I shout. ‘Luca? Aimee?’
‘Over here!’ says a stranger’s voice, from behind a clump of trees at the end of the garden, making my heart lurch.
‘Who’s that?’ But I know who it is. It’s as if I’ve conjured her up, some sort of spectre that’s been hiding in a corner of my mind since I first set eyes on her.
‘Brush! Brush!’ She’s giving out commands. I run to the clump where Stella is holding Aimee’s arm andslapping her shins! Luca is looking on, stamping his feet!
‘Hey!’ I rush forward, push Stella away and shout, ‘Leave them alone!’ I grab her arm and pull her further from the children. ‘Get away from my children!’
‘Mum, we’ve been stung,’ cries Luca, stamping and brushing at his legs.
‘Red ants,’ says Stella, pointing at their legs. ‘You have to brush them off quickly, or they will inflame.’
I follow her command.
