Page 62 of The Dolce Vita Divas
Susie fidgeted with the clasp on her handbag. ‘I do feel a bit mean, leaving you on your own. But then we will be going home in a few days?—’
‘Then make the most of it,’ I said.
‘What will you do?’
‘There’s nothing wrong with just relaxing,’ I said, ‘enjoying the sunshine and the views and – well, everything.’
And Paulo had said he wanted to spend the day with me. So where was he?
She left an hour later, Raimondo picking her up in Paulo’s car, and I watched them from my window as they drove off down to the harbour, looking very jaunty and windswept.
I spent some time emailing my son and daughters and sending them some photos of the previous day’s events. And a picture of Paulo and me which Susie had taken, while I was dressed up in my designer finery. I sent that to Juliette too and within seconds she had replied.
You both look so happy. Why don’t you tell him how you feel? We’re all a long time dead. Sorry if that’s insensitive, but I haven’t seen you smile like that before. And he’s gorgeous. Faint heart never won fabulous hunk!
I looked hard at that picture again. I had a wide smile; so did Paulo. I could almost remember the feel the light touch of his hand on my shoulder as we stood there. My borrowed dress had suited me; even my hair had been behaving and looking sleek. Behind us I could glimpse some of the lovely flowers in exuberant displays. It almost looked like a wedding picture.
The path not taken.
How would my life have been if we had been together, I wondered. Would we have been happy? Would we have learned not to argue? Would we both have been faithful and content?
That was it, I realised; the thing I was seeking. Not just to be coping, to be running my life efficiently. It wasn’t just a case of mowing the lawn or paying the bills on time. Remembering birthday cards and meter readings. Getting by. Not falling down the stairs.
I wanted to matter. To matter to myself. But above all, I wanted to be able to do things I enjoyed, just for me. To be content.
That was what I wanted. To fill the void in my life that somehow had always been there, and still remained empty. But how?
15
I went for a stroll in the grounds of the hotel, going down the shallow terraces which were cut into the cliff and admiring the glorious views and taking deep breaths of the clear air. I had just a few days left of this trip. And I was determined to be independent and not wait for Paulo to have a few minutes free, like a forlorn fan at the stage door, hoping for a glimpse of a pop star. My new life was going to start today. I was going to do something impetuous and fun.
As I passed the reception desk, I picked up a bus timetable. There were buses into the town of Capri fairly regularly and it took just thirty minutes to get there. Result. I just had to find Anacapri station. That must be a bus stop. It couldn’t be difficult. From the map it looked like a short walk, and that would do me good. I’d done an awful lot of sitting about and eating since I had arrived.
Twenty minutes later, I set out along the road towards the town, wishing after a few hundred yards that I had a water bottle. And I had an awful feeling that they might be chic, but one of my new trainers was going to rub my heel. Perhaps I should have put some socks on. At least I had remembered my sunhat, and it was pulled low over my brow.
I’d only been going for ten minutes and a bus to Capri had just passed me, which meant I would have at least a thirty-minute wait.
I heard a vehicle pull up slowly behind me.
‘Want a lift?’
This was it. The moment when I would get into a stranger’s car and never be seen again. Or perhaps my body would be discovered at the foot of the infamous Salto di Tiberio, my handbag clutched to my chest, empty apart from a packet of breath mints and my reading glasses.
When had I become so suspicious of everyone? So cautious of life?
I turned round, trying to look tough and remember whatno thank youwas in Italian.
It was Paulo, smiling that wonderful smile behind the wheel of a little truck-type vehicle.
Despite my expectations of a solo trip, relying on my own wits, I felt a wash of relief. Or was it excitement at seeing him again?
I stood, dithering. ‘I was going to get the bus into Capri.’
He leaned over and opened the passenger door.
‘No need,’ he said, ‘I was going anyway. I was going to invite you to come with me. I have a small bit of business to attend to but it shouldn’t take long. I was looking for you. I always seem to be looking for you, and I was told you had gone out. Hop in.’
Driving in a small open-top van meant it was noisy and dusty as we went down the road to the town. Which meant we didn’t do much talking other than a couple of shouted comments about the stupendous views.
