Page 120 of A Wedding in Tuscany

‘No. You’re not. And if you like, you can blame it on me. Tell everyone that, as I’m now forty, it’s nearly my bedtime.’ She glances at her watch. ‘Actually …’

‘It’s not even eight.’

‘Exactly.’

‘If we lived here, we’d just be heading out for an early dinner.’

‘I seriously do not know how the Italians do it.’

‘Siesta,’ I say.

‘Yeah, yeah … even so … I only bust out a nap in extreme circumstances. I doubt it’d ever become part of my daily routine?even if I did live here.’

‘Oh, hey, did you see that Piero’s here?’ she asks.

‘Pier? Oh, really? Where?’

I look around and right as she says, ‘At the bar,’ I spot him.

‘Oh, my god.’

‘I know, right.’ We stare openly at him as the blonde he’s with laughs, flicks her long hair over one shoulder, then licks her lips. ‘I think he’s in there,’ I say.

‘I think he could be in anywhere he wanted.’

‘Ewww, Sarah!’

‘What?’ she says, laughing. ‘Don’t be such a prude!’

‘I’m not a pr?’

‘Catherine, chérie …’

‘Hello, husband,’ I say, looking up into his gorgeous green eyes and hoping like hell he didn’t catch any of that conversation.

‘Hello, wife.’ We stare at each other intently.

‘Do you two want to be alone?’ teases Sarah.

‘Actually …’ He drawls, punctuating his words with a half-shrug. ‘I’m exhausted. And you must be as well,’ he says to me. ‘Should we …’ he jerks his head, indicating that he wants to leave.

‘Oh, thank god?yes,’ I say. ‘Let’s bid adieu and head the Merc.’ Confusion mars his perfect face.

‘Head the Mercedes home,’ says Sarah, addressing his unasked question.

‘Ahhh,’ he says, dropping a peck onto my lips, ‘one week with your sister and you become all Aussie again.’

‘What’s wrong with that?’

‘Rien, my love.’ He smiles cheekily then turns to the others and announces that we are heading back to the castle soon.

There’s a collective disappointed ‘aww’ from our friends followed by a frenzy of activity?Josh offering to retrieve our bags from reception and call an Uber, hugs, tears, laughter, promises, and half-whispered words, spoken through tears or feigned cheerfulness?farewells that will need to tide us over till next time.

‘Anders is wonderful, Lou,’ I say. ‘I’m so happy for you.’

‘He’s a sweetheart. I’m verylucky.’

‘He’s the lucky one, Lou. And make sure you give us plenty of notice so we can come to Canada for the wedding,’ I say. I leave her open-mouthed and wide-eyed, squeezing her hand one last time, before seeking out Jaelee.

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