Page 57 of The Dolce Vita Divas
I looked up at him in astonishment.
‘Don’t be ridiculous! How could you possibly understand? Greg was difficult, rather selfish and unkind. Ellen was such a marvellous person in every way; I’ve heard nothing else all day. Everyone loved her. She thought the world of you. And Leo. Everyone said what a wonderful wife she was, what a great friend. All the tales I have heard about her today. The charity work, rescuing pets, helping the local school.’
‘Yes,’ he said, ‘she did all those things. And more.’
‘I bet she wouldn’t have nearly fallen down the stairs on the way to this event. I bet she wouldn’t have lost her false eyelashes in her food,’ I blurted out. ‘Is Eric okay now?’
Paulo gave a little chuckle. ‘Yes, he’s fine. And if that’s the worst thing that ever happens to him, he won’t have much to complain about. I think he has recovered enough for Andrea to take him for a swim in the pool.’
There was a burst of laughter from a group somewhere in the garden. I looked over to see Ceci, Sylvia and Lucia, heads together in a huddle. Perhaps it was possible to argue and disagree and still really be friends after all. Instead of pretending, as I had with Ellen.
‘You asked me and I gave you an answer, so I’ll ask you the same question. Were you happy?’
He didn’t reply for a moment and then he sighed.
‘Sometimes, in the beginning. Ellen was a good person, but there were a lot of things I never really understood about her. There were things we couldn’t discuss. She had little contact with her own family, and she was the sort of person to have many acquaintances but few true friends. There were parts of her life she would not share with me.’
I wondered what on earth he meant, but then I supposed it was true of a lot of marriages. There was always some small, dark corner into which the other person could never see.
‘What sort of things?’
‘Sometimes, in the end, I felt that the only thing she really cared about was this hotel. To make it successful, to make sure it was run properly.’
‘She did a good job,’ I said.
‘She did,’ he said, looking down at the table between us.
I felt so sad for him at that moment. Despite outward appearances, life in the last few years for him must have been very different from what I had imagined.
In a way, I could see it had been easier for me and for Susie too, I supposed. My marriage had ended in a burst of relief. But I had exchanged a cheating husband for a rather isolated life and for a long time had held on to my feelings of anger and betrayal like a comfort blanket.
‘Forgive me, you don’t seem very happy now.’
‘No,’ he said, ‘I guess I’m not.’
I thought of all the useless things people said under those circumstances.
Things about time being a great healer. Tomorrow is another day. When you’re going through hell, keep going. Remember the happy times. All that stuff.
And yet at that moment, sitting in the sunshine, the sky clear and blue above us, the gentle noise of people chatting, enjoying themselves. The lovely meal we had eaten, the wine, the glories of the occasion; those platitudes didn’t seem appropriate.
I reached across and put my hand on his arm, the fabric of his suit jacket warm under my fingers. My feelings were so intense it was almost as though I could feel the individual threads in the cloth. The warmth of his skin beneath it.
‘You must miss her so much. Give it time,’ I said. ‘It will be okay.’
He looked at my hand.
‘Will it?’ he said.
‘Of course it will. You still have your friends and family here. And your son and his family are only a plane trip away. You must be so proud of him.’
‘Yes,’ he said, and then he turned away and looked back at the hotel, which was gleaming white in the afternoon sunshine. ‘I’m very proud of Leo. I wish we could have had more children, but then – as I said, Ellen didn’t want them and it never happened.’
‘But your life here, in such a lovely place, must have been wonderful.’
He nodded slowly, glanced at me and then looked down. And then he stood up, walked away a few steps, deep in thought.
I waited in silence, hardly breathing.
