Page 52 of The Dolce Vita Divas
I scanned the room, looking for Susie, finally tracking her down to where she was once again firmly attached to Raimondo’s side, a new glass of Prosecco in her hand.
I wondered how she was feeling. Was it wise for her to plunge into another relationship so soon after Simon? But then what did I know about such things? Look at the way my life had turned out.
I needed to find out more about him, what his prospects were, before he started asking her for money.
No, surely he wouldn’t? But I’d read enough depressing stories in the papers about men latching on to a lone woman of a certain age, and before they knew it the man was having problems with their bank, their child was somewhere abroad needing an operation, and Susie would end up in the papers with a tragic expression talking about it.
Susie turned and waved at me and then came trotting over for a quick word.
‘Isn’t this lovely?’ she said, her cheeks rather flushed. ‘I’m having such a fabulous time. It makes life with Simon seem even more dreary, looking back. Raimondo has a villa near Amalfi. And a boat. He’s just been telling me all about it. It sounds gorgeous.’
‘Yes, are you sure?’ I murmured. ‘Has he got a daughter abroad, doing good works?’
‘I don’t think so,’ Susie said, looking puzzled.
‘Have you asked?’
‘Well, no. That’s not the sort of thing that comes up in conversation, is it?’
‘Well, I’m going to ask him,’ I said, ‘and find out.’
‘He’ll think you’re mad,’ Susie said, looking irritable.
‘We aren’t going to watch as he empties your bank account and you end up in some documentary about older women being dogfished,’ I said.
‘I think it’s catfished,’ Susie replied waspishly.
‘That too.’
Susie raised her chin defiantly.
‘He has asked me to come back soon to Amalfi. To stay with him in his villa.’
‘Are you sure that’s a good idea?’ I said. ‘For all you know he has a titchy little flat somewhere on the outskirts of town, and the boat is a dinghy covered in barnacles.’
Susie chuckled. ‘I don’t know. I mean, this is enormous fun, but in my experience real life is badly planned, under rehearsed and a bit worrying. Still, I’m enjoying the moment.’
‘So you won’t be rowing off into the sunset with him?’ I asked. ‘You’re sure?’
Susie spluttered with laughter.
‘I’m not daft. But why shouldn’t I bask in the warmth of his attention? It’s been a flipping long time since anyone said anything nice to me. I’m having a lovely time. Did you know my eyes are the same colour as the waters of the blue lagoon? No, nor did I. He was telling me Ellen started up a charity in Sorrento, I think, rescuing abandoned animals and rehoming them.’
Of course she did, I thought.
Perhaps Susie had been right and we hadn’t really known her at all. Seeing Ellen for a few days every so often didn’t mean quite the same as the friendship I had with Susie, who I spoke to nearly every day, or even Juliette who had become a friend in almost no time in comparison.
What was a real friend? Someone to do something or nothing with and still have a good time? Why didn’t Ellen just drop me when she moved away? Was it just to show me that I hadn’t ruffled the surface of her perfect life? To prove to me that she didn’t care what I had done, that I hadn’t mattered?
13
Up on the top table I settled into my allotted place, where I had a great view of everyone else in the room. The talk was well-modulated with the occasional gentle laugh. It almost looked like a film set. Smartly dressed people, wonderful flowers, the lights from the chandelier glinting off the gleaming cutlery and shining glasses. Although in all the films like that I’d ever seen, something unexpected happened and there were long-buried revelations of infidelity or suspicious death. Or possibly the police arrived or a masked gang with machine guns burst in to kidnap someone.
Even Eric, wandering around between the tables looking for spare breadsticks, provoked only affectionate comments and smiles. But then he was lucky; Italians were well known for their acceptance and love of children. Across the table, Raleigh was busy trying to impress me with how difficult her life was, fundraising and socialising, and on the other side were those whose coming had been foretold. Ceci’s sisters, Sylvia and Lucia.
Sylvia had arrived just as the priest was about to stand up and say a blessing. She came in with much ceremony, on the arm of a companion, pretending and failing to be quiet, clattering a walking stick on the stone floor and apologising loudly to everyone for her late arrival. I saw Ceci on the other side of Raleigh stiffen and roll her eyes.
‘Santo cielo. Good heavens, can’t my sister do anything properly? I thought we were going to be spared her nonsense.’
