Page 122 of A Wedding in Tuscany

Another nod. ‘I will look and maybe take some to the …’ She seems to struggle for the word in English. ‘… la casa di riposo?’ She gestures. ‘Older people, where they live …’

‘Oh,’ I say, twigging. ‘That’s perfect?perfetto.’ May as well toss in one of the ten Italian words I know and it really is perfetto that the food won’t go to waste. And she’s already taken the flowers to the nearest hospital. ‘Thank you,’ I say, smiling at her brightly.

‘Grazie,’ says Sarah.

‘Yes, grazie.’ Part of me wants to hug her, this quiet woman who lost both her parents not long ago. But I sense that she’d hate that. ‘Oh, and here.’ I hand her the enormous key to the apartment and she nods again.

‘Well, bye,’ says Sarah, our cue to leave. I raise my hand in a wave?another nod in reply?and we walk back down the driveway and climb into the car?me in the front with Jean-Luc, who’s driving, and Sarah in the back.

‘D’accord?’ asks Jean-Luc.

Now it’s my turn to nod, as I don’t trust my voice, and he puts the car into gear and reverses out of the driveway. I watch our castle home out the windscreen, then we change directions and in moments, the enormous structure disappears, swallowed by leafy trees and dappled sunlight.

The hardest farewell is now only a few hours away and the mood in the car is contemplative?or perhaps that’s just me. I look over my shoulder and Josh has his earbuds in?listening to a podcast or something?and Sarah is watching out the window. She must sense my gaze because she looks at me and smiles sadly. I return the smile then continue watching out the windscreen.

The Tuscan countryside as we descend the hills around Montespertoli is so beautiful, with its rolling hills, a patchwork of green and straw-coloured grass, and stands of those tall, skinny fir trees. And after this past week, it will forever hold a special place in my heart.

I’m married. I’m married to my first and only true love and just the thought fills me to brimming with joy.

‘Oh, god. Pull over. Jean-Luc, please pull over.’

The car veers off the road, bouncing along the rough verge before coming to an abrupt stop. I fling open the door and retch onto the dusty ground. Jean-Luc unlatches my seatbelt so I have more mobility and I turn in my seat and empty my stomach while he rubs my back soothingly.

‘Oh, Cat,’ says Sarah, her voice permeating my nausea. ‘Do you think it was something you ate?’

As I breathe slowly, in through my nose and out through my mouth, finding my equilibrium, I cast my mind back to last night. After returning to the castle, we’d all been so shattered and were so over wine and rich food, I’d made a giant plate of buttered toast, and we’d sat on the balcony watching the starry sky, sipping coffee and tea and talking about nothing in particular until we headed off to bed around nine.

And I’d had exactly the same for breakfast?toast and tea. Jean-Luc hands me a bottle of water and I take a swig to rinse my mouth, spitting it out onto the ground, then sit back against the seat and take a small sip.

He rubs my leg gently and when I glance at him, his face is etched in concern. ‘I’m all right,’ I say, sending a reassuring smile across the car.

‘You are sure?’ he asks, right as Sarah asks, ‘Are you really okay?’

‘Yes, absolutely. Probably just car sick. The roads are very windy.’

Sarah emits an unconvinced ‘mmm’ from the back seat and Josh reaches for one of my shoulders and pats it. I breathe out a long slow breath, then take another sip of water. My stomach has settled now, so I close the door and put my seatbelt on. ‘All good, darling,’ I say. ‘We can go now.’

He frowns, but puts the car into gear, looks over his shoulder, and pulls back onto the road. When we’re on our way again, he reaches for my hand and brings it to his lips, then rests it on his thigh, covered by his own.

‘I hate this part,’ says Sarah, looking between the three of us.

I’ve been dreading it too, each increment of time over the past day-and-a-half inching us closer to this moment. We’ve returned the rental car, checked in to our respective flights, and have dragged out this goodbye so long, our dad would be proud?but there are only so many airport espressos you can stomach. Especially with the current state of mine.

As it’s easier than saying goodbye to my sister, I start with Josh, standing on tippy toes to reach up for a hug. He envelops me and for a second, my feet leave the ground, making me laugh. He puts me down and releases me. ‘Thank you for everything?for being a wonderful brother-in-law and Best Man and …’ My voice falters and here they come, the tears.

‘Hey, no need to cry,’ he says. ‘I know I am immensely missable but …’ He winks at me. ‘Besides, aren’t we all going to the Maldives together?’

‘Apparently,’ I say, adding a sniffle. ‘I love you,’ I say throwing my arms around his waist.

He pats my back. ‘Love you too.’

I step back abruptly before I start boo-hooing and reach into my jeans pocket for a tissue but come up empty. Sarah shoves a small packet into my hands?expert crier, always prepared. She and Jean-Luc have said their goodbyes and now we all swap places.

‘Fucking goodbyes,’ she says. ‘They suck a million dog’s balls.’

I chuckle and we smile sadly at each other, each through tears, then she encircles me in a fierce hug. The sobs start?no sense is trying to control them now?and as our embrace shudders with them, I couldn’t tell you where mine end and hers begin.

All I know is that it breaks my heart every time we have to say goodbye.

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