Page 44 of The Dolce Vita Divas
I slept badly that night, and in the morning I woke late to the sound of Susie tapping on the glass door out onto the balcony.
‘Come on,’ she said. ‘It’s nine fifteen. If you want some breakfast you’d better hurry up.’
She was looking very bright-eyed and cheerful this morning, dressed in some smart trousers and a jaunty striped T-shirt. This contrasted badly with my bleary appearance. For two pins I would have gone back to bed, but I was starving and there was an exciting day ahead.
We had a quick breakfast of more delicious pastries and coffee while I grilled her some more about Raimondo. He was apparently very nice, attentive and polite and had driven them all over the island in Paulo’s sports car. She didn’t know what sort, only that it was blue with leather seats.
There were staff everywhere that morning. The doors to the huge ballroom were thrown open and in there we could see an array of round tables covered with white cloths, and people putting out place settings and glasses. As we watched, some florists appeared with the most ravishing displays of white flowers. Roses and lilies, peonies and dahlias. The scent was intoxicating.
This was what Ceci had wanted, wasn’t it? White flowers.
I was aware Susie was edging away from me.
‘See you later,’ she said as she made for the stairs.
I wondered what she was up to. And then I realised.
‘Good morning.’
It was Paulo, and despite everything, my spirits raised at the sight of him. I shouldn’t have been feeling such things; after all, today wasn’t just to celebrate Ceci’s birthday, it was also the celebration of Ellen’s life, her relationship with this man and this place. But somehow I couldn’t help myself.
He was carrying a box filled with table napkins, snowy white and crisply ironed.
‘We are all busy today,’ he said with a little smile, ‘but I think we will be ready very soon.’
‘Can I help?’ I said, wondering what sort of task I was imagining I could do.
‘No, not at all. I think my staff have everything under control. They know exactly what to do. I should hope so anyway.’
‘If there is anything, I’d love to help,’ I said. ‘There must be something?’
For heaven’s sake, what was I thinking? Why couldn’t I just take no for an answer? Leave the poor man alone with his memories and his tasks.
He shifted the box in his arms and looked at me properly for the first time.
‘Well, there is always Eric. But perhaps later, we could talk?’ he said.
I was silent for a moment. What did he want to talk to me about? And how much later was ‘later’?
Perhaps all those years ago we could have had a good talk and cleared the air, but we never had. We had just retreated from each other for a while, and then after I had shut him down that day, we’d sunk into an unspoken agreement that while we were still sharing the student house, we made it work. Over the following weeks and months, we had developed a rather prickly relationship where each of us seemed to annoy the other all the time. Nothing more. And it had seemed okay; well, it had worked.
‘I’d like that,’ I said, and he smiled, and for a moment it was as though the years fell away, and I had a warm, fleeting memory of when we were young, when just about every problem could be cured by a good night out at the student union. And then I felt odd inside, a peculiar mixture of emotions. Happy but at the same time sort of anxious and sick.
‘We have left it too long. We need to say things which were left unspoken,’ he said, and the feeling intensified. ‘I need to explain.’
My mind was racing. No, I needed to explain. I would apologise; in fact, there was really no reason why…
‘Where have you been?’ said an accusing little voice at my elbow, and there was Eric, in yet another designer outfit of check shirt and mini chinos. ‘I’ve been waiting ages and ages.’
‘I was asleep, and then I had breakfast,’ I said, ‘and now I am watching as the ballroom is turned into a beautiful place.’
‘How are you today, Eric?’ Paulo said, smiling down at his grandson.
‘I’m bored.’ Eric grabbed hold of my hand and pulled me into the ballroom where he stood with his arms outstretched, getting in the way.
‘Do Mommy and Poppa know where you are?’
‘They said I could come and have a look, but I wasn’t to go outside. This is a party,’ he said, ‘for mynona. And mybisnonna.’
