Page 71 of The Dolce Vita Divas
But was it nonsense? And if so, why?
If I was forty or fifty, would it still be foolish to be talking like this, with the widowed, lonely husband of one of my oldest friends? At what age did a woman, or a man for that matter, become too old for affection or compliments or love? Ceci obviously didn’t think like that. Or simply – in a world dominated by pouting, self-important young people – what did it take for older people to be noticed? Did I just need to resign myself to playing a significant part in other people’s lives, but not in my own?
‘I have had a good life, a happy life,’ he said at last, ‘but this life – what you see – was never, ever what I wanted. I told you the first time we met, I did not want to stay here for ever, I wanted to see the world. Seeing you again makes me realise my life is not yet over after all. I have not achieved many of the things I wanted to.’
‘What things?’
He laughed. ‘Building a road or a bridge for one thing. Well, that’s how it started, wasn’t it? No, seriously, I mean things for myself. Not for other people,’ he said. ‘Does that sound selfish?’
‘Not at all, I have been thinking much the same. I have spent my life working and looking after my family, and now most of the time they don’t need me. Well, apart from my son, who seems to be regressing into teenage years again. But I’ll support him and help him to move on with his life. And he will. Which is great, of course it is, but in the grand scheme of things I feel a bit superfluous.’
‘I’m sure that’s not true,’ he said.
‘I don’t want to be left behind,’ I said. ‘I want to keep moving forward. Like a shark, I suppose, they have to keep swimming, don’t they? Or they drown.’
He laughed. ‘What goes on in your head?’
‘I mean I want to have a life of my own for the first time. I went from living with my parents, going to school then to university and then to marriage. This is the first time in my life I have ever lived alone and it is taking some getting used to. Not having to answer to anyone.’
He nodded in agreement. ‘My father was never a big part of my life. My mother remarried and lived in Rome, so I spent my childhood here with my grandparents. When they died I was already married to Ellen, and she was making such great changes here. My grandfather always thought she was wonderful. Suddenly there was no question of us leaving. But it was never what I wanted, not at all. You knew that. I had dreams of seeing the world, of doing something momentous or important. Doesn’t that sound ridiculous now? But Ellen made it impossible to break away; she refused to discuss it. She had good business ideas. She could see the details much better than I could. She had a flair for design; she was artistic and imaginative. And so we just carried on, doing this, year after year, and of course it got easier. We made improvements and she transformed this place. It worked so well. But sometimes I felt so trapped, so desperate.’
‘And now?’
‘I am restless to find out. To find out about the world, not just stay in this little corner. I told you that the night we met. To escape. And now, well, maybe it is too late. Perhaps I should be grateful for what I have, not wish for the things I lack.’
‘I’ve been feeling the same way but that’s not the way I want to live. Not any more. It’s not too late for either of us, Paulo. We could have many years left to enjoy doing the things we want to do.’
He laughed. ‘I have been thinking about it.’
‘So, what is stopping you?’
He thought about this for a while and then he took a deep breath.
‘I have a good life here, anyone can see that. So why am I so restless?’
‘You sound like me,’ I said, ‘wanting to strike out and find new things to be excited about. But not having the courage.’
‘You were the bravest person I ever knew,’ he said.
‘I didn’t feel like that,’ I admitted. ‘I was just pretending. Life can get in the way of our courage. I suppose I want to feel needed again.’
‘I need you,’ he said, and we looked at each other then.
‘Do you?’ I said, hardly able to breathe.
‘I always did.’
There was a pause then, and he leaned back in his chair, stretching his long legs under the table.
‘Can I tell you something? Something that no one else knows?’
‘Yes, of course,’ I said.
I tried to sound calm, but inside my mind was racing, my thoughts tumbling over each other.He needs me.
He lowered his voice. ‘I have been making enquiries over the last few months. Finding out about selling the hotel. I was able to convince myself life was good here when Ellen was alive, but since she died, I realise I am not happy. I am just – how would you put it – treading water. Marking time.’
I took a deep breath. ‘Selling it! I had no idea.’
