Page 17 of The Dolce Vita Divas
‘We have a lot of catching up to do,’ he said, ‘but first let me show you to your rooms.’
The next few minutes were spent with him taking charge and being generally hospitable. All the time I could feel the blood pounding in my ears, my heart thudding.
‘I hope you will be comfortable here,’ he said, escorting me into a fabulous room with a view over the Mediterranean.
‘I’m sure I will,’ I said rather croakily.
‘I will see you later,’ he said, and we looked at one another for a few moments while I fidgeted and wondered if I could think of something sensible to say. I couldn’t.
* * *
I had only visited here once, many years ago. Ellen had urged me to come because Paulo had been away on business, and although that part of it was disappointing, I went, on my own, much to Greg’s annoyance.
I wanted to prove we were still friends, that everything was fine and there were no hard feelings.
On that occasion I had been in a small single room on the top floor and the streets of Capri had been hot and crowded. At this time of year, it was quiet. The wonderful views of the coast stretched on to infinity, and it seemed a splendid place to be. No wonder Ellen had hated to leave it.
This time our rooms had glass doors leading out onto a wide stone terrace, where there were terracotta pots of flowers and purple bougainvillea cascading around the windows. It was marvellous.
After unpacking, the two of us met out there, marvelling at the beauty of the place. How wonderful to live like this.
‘Well, really, Ellen was a lucky girl, wasn’t she?’ Susie said a few minutes later as she leaned on the balustrade. ‘I don’t remember Paulo beingquiteso attractive, but then I was with Tom back then. And I didn’t have eyes for anyone else. Who knew he was such a bore; it must have been my hormones. No wonder Ellen didn’t like to leave Paulo for long. Isn’t it annoying how men can look better as they age with no apparent effort? While women spend more and more on face creams and potions and talk about cosmetic surgery. And it takes hours and a lot of money to colour our hair, while men can do it in ten minutes while they shave if you believe the ads. Why is that?’
‘The same reason we get cellulite and men don’t. And yes, she was a lucky woman,’ I said, ‘and she thought the world of him. They thought the world of each other.’
I said it firmly, almost to reinforce the fact in my own mind, and at the same time to sort of punish myself for still finding Paulo attractive. What was the point, after all? We hadn’t met for decades; life had moved on for both of us. I needed to remember that.
Susie gave a deep sigh.
‘Latin looks and his own luxury hotel? It’s like something out of a film. My life has been like something out of a film recently, but in my case it wasFatal Attraction. The last secret girlfriend actually stood outside my house crying, with a rock in her hand. And Simon told me she had a Fortnum and Mason hamper in the back of the car too. Which was very weird because it was half past three in the morning, so why would anyone need a Piccadilly Vegan Picnic for Two at that hour? And why did he feel the need to tell me anyway? Simon said she was confused and had got the wrong idea. He went out to talk to her and try and calm her down. Then he came in to gethera cup of tea. Can you believe it? And like a muppet I let him. Then all of a sudden I had a horrible Damascene vision of what the rest of my life with him was going to be like, so while he was out there I packed his bags and slung them out onto the pavement. Then I double-locked the front door. And I threw his Moroccan Neroli shaving oil out of the bathroom window and it smashed on the drive. The last I saw of him, he was getting intohercar.’
I put an arm around Susie’s shoulders.
‘His loss,’ I said.
‘I was such a fool,’ Susie said, shaking her head so her hair fell over her face. ‘Never again. He tried to tell me she was just a friend going through a bad time, but then he kept on ringing me and texting me, trying to make it all my fault as usual, so I blocked his number on my phone and I haven’t heard from him for quite a while now. Perhaps he’s got the hint?’
‘No dating sites for you then?’
Susie rolled her eyes. ‘I am never going to talk to a man again. Unless I have to. And only in an emergency. Is Alex really still in your granny flat? I would have thought he would have moved out by now?’
I sighed. ‘He’s on the hunt for a place, now the divorce is almost finalised. Their house should be sold by the end of the month and then the financial settlement will come through. I don’t know what all the delays have been. It seems to have taken forever.’
‘Perhaps he’s too comfortable where he is?’ Susie said with a knowing look. ‘Did you ever get that wine stain out of the stair carpet? Now then, I’m going to freshen up and then change into something a bit more glamorous. Just in case I do meet Joan Collins or Johnny Depp in the bar. And don’t forget, Paulo has invited us to join him for drinks in the garden at six o’clock.’
Ah, yes. This was the time when we would chat and exchange pleasantries and not think about that time when we had been good friends. When we might have been more.
Back then, I had watched him and Ellen, their relationship growing stronger and more exclusive until it had been no real surprise when she had come in one day flashing an excited smile and a gigantic sapphire engagement ring that had apparently been a family heirloom.
We’d had a party that evening, and I had wrestled with being happy for them and despairing that my life would never be like that. I would always be making the wrong choices, allowing myself to be pushed around, and looking back, I’d been right.
5
After I had finished unpacking and put all my things away in the enormous baroque wardrobe, I changed into some new grey linen trousers and a white shirt, which back home had looked quite chic. I wasn’t sure they did here.
I fussed about in front of the mirror and turned the collar of the shirt up, to try and look more like Jane Fonda did in the skincare adverts when she was trying to hide her perfectly acceptable jawline and neck, and then turned it down again because it just looked as though I had got dressed in a hurry. I added a chunky glass necklace and then took it off because it looked what it was – something I had found in a charity shop for three pounds. Then I put it back on again.
I peered at myself. I looked different here. Perhaps it was the light that was so clear and bright. It certainly was doing my wrinkles no favours. Where did they spring from all of a sudden?
