The Heavenly Italian Ice Cream Shop

by Abby Clements

  ‘Wonderful. Let me know when you hear.’

  She saw something new in him, that excitement in his eyes. She thought of her own father and the way he had cradled Bella in his arms when she was a newborn. It wasn’t just her and Matteo’s lives that had changed that day.

  Later that afternoon, Anna prepared tea and cake, and Carolina came and sat with her and Matteo out on the balcony. With Elisa out with Bella that afternoon, Matteo had suggested they invite his sister round.

  ‘How is Filippo’s trip going?’ Matteo asked. ‘Mamma keeps saying how well his business is going.’

  ‘Business is terrific,’ Carolina replied.

  ‘But?’ Matteo said. So he’d detected the coldness in her voice, too, Anna thought.

  ‘It’s going so great that I don’t think he’ll be coming down here at all this summer.’

  ‘That’s a shame,’ Anna said.

  ‘Is it?’ Carolina said, with a shrug. Anna noticed that there were dark shadows under her eyes.

  ‘Are you OK?’ Anna asked gently.

  ‘Not really.’ She shook her head. ‘I don’t know what I ever saw in that man, really.’

  Anna froze for a moment, shocked. ‘Are things really that bad?’ she asked. Matteo looked equally concerned.

  ‘Worse,’ she said. ‘I think our marriage is over.’

  ‘What’s happened?’ Matteo asked.

  ‘There were problems before Christmas, and then he said he couldn’t come to England to stay with you,’ Carolina said, her English clear and precise. ‘But I thought we could work through them – I thought our marriage vows meant something.’

  ‘Is there someone else?’ Anna asked, tentatively.

  ‘Yes.’ Carolina’s eyes filled with tears.

  Matteo shook his head and Anna saw that he was trying hard to keep his fury under control.

  ‘You’re sure?’ Anna asked.

  ‘Yes. I knew something was wrong. I looked through his credit-card bills and saw that he’d been staying in hotels and having expensive meals out when he had told me he was away on business.’

  ‘Did he admit to it?’ Matteo said.

  ‘No, of course not. That would have made life far too easy.’ She shook her head. ‘He told me I was being paranoid, that I was wrong to have been looking through his things.’

  ‘That’s terrible,’ Anna said.

  She shrugged. ‘It’s hard. You doubt yourself. I’ve lost sight of who’s right and who’s wrong. Maybe I did something to push him away.’

  ‘Nothing you did would mean you deserve to be cheated on,’ Matteo said. ‘You’re going to divorce him, right?’

  Anna gave Matteo a stern look, hoping that he’d understand and go in a little bit more softly.

  Carolina looked up, tears in her eyes.

  ‘You’re too good for him, Caro.’ Matteo said.

  ‘I just need time to think clearly,’ she said. ‘That’s all.’

  Chapter 23

  In the early hours of a warm July morning, Imogen checked over the contents of her suitcase: summer trousers, three bikinis, flip-flops and a sunhat on top of some other clothes. Then she got her camera bag ready. Everything that she’d need for a trip to the Amalfi coast.

  She couldn’t wait to see Anna, and feel the sun on her face again. It was the right time for a trip away. Over the past few weeks, Evie had proved herself to be a complete natural at Vivien’s; and, at the guesthouse, Martin had found his feet. So Imogen wasn’t leaving anyone in the lurch. She had just one reservation, linked to the guesthouse: she was concerned about Clarissa. After seeing her father’s descent into depression, she didn’t want the same thing to happen again. Imogen had asked her mum to check in on Clarissa while she was away, to make sure that she was OK.

  There was just one more thing to pack. She got a folder out of her top drawer and slipped it into her hand luggage. Inside were the letter and photos she’d found, along with the map from the guesthouse, folded up. In Italy she would find out what had happened. She would make some sense of the muddle everything seemed to have become.

  She looked over at Finn, still sleeping in bed. The man she loved, but now felt so distant from. A few days and she’d be clearer about everything, she reasoned. She closed her suitcase and checked the time.

  Finn stirred. ‘Are you going?’ he asked, drowsily rubbing his eyes. He looked so adorable like that, still half asleep.

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘The cab’s going to be here any minute.’

  ‘Have fun,’ he said. ‘I’ll miss you.’

  She bent down beside him and kissed him, then pressed her face into the warm skin of his shoulder and neck. For that moment everything felt all right.

  ‘I’ll call you when I get there,’ she said.

  ‘Sure. Give my love to Anna and Matteo – and a hug for Bella,’ he said. ‘Tell them next time I’ll be there too.’

  A text buzzed through to Imogen’s phone announcing that the cab was there. ‘Taxi.’

  ‘I love you,’ Finn said, simply and clearly.

  ‘Me too,’ Imogen said.

  The words caught. It wasn’t that they weren’t true – they were. But it felt as if they weren’t the only thing that mattered any more.

  Part Three

  Chapter 24

  That Sunday, Anna smiled with delight as she saw her sister walking into the arrivals hall, in a bright-orange, patterned sarong and strappy black top, her sunglasses perched on top of her head. She dashed over and hugged her.

  ‘I can’t believe you’re really here,’ Anna said, holding her tight.

  ‘Hold up,’ Imogen said, laughing. ‘You’re squeezing the life out of me here. Have you really missed me that much?’

  ‘I have, actually,’ Anna said.

  ‘Aw, that’s sweet. I’ve missed you a bit too. How’s Bella? Matteo?’

  ‘They’re good, thanks,’ Anna said. ‘Matteo’s running the shop today, and Carolina’s with Bella. I wanted to have my sister to myself for a little bit. Come and jump in the car, let’s get going.’

  They loaded Imogen’s suitcase into the back of the car, and hit the road back to Sorrento.

  ‘How’s the shop?’ Imogen asked, tying her hair up into a loose topknot.

  ‘It’s doing really well, thanks. Busy. This place is great and we’ve opened at just the right time of year to build a good buzz around the business, and—’

  ‘So what is it that’s making you unhappy?’ Imogen asked, studying her sister’s face. ‘Because I can see something’s wrong.’

  ‘Let’s stop for a drink,’ Anna said. ‘I’ll tell you all about it.’

  They stopped at a bar by the coast, half an hour short of Sorrento itself. Out of earshot of Matteo’s family, Anna felt liberated. With Imogen she could say what she wanted without fear of it going back to the wrong (or the right) person. The waiter brought them over two tall glasses of chilled Prosecco.

  ‘First things first: here’s to you being here,’ Anna said, raising hers.

  ‘Here’s to me being here,’ Imogen said, chinking her glass with her sister’s.

  ‘So what is it? Spill. Is it Matteo’s mum still?’

  ‘Yes,’ Anna said, relieved to be able to open up about it. ‘She keeps meddling in everything. With the business, with Bella . . .’

  ‘Worse than Mum?’ Imogen asked.

  ‘Oh, God, she makes Mum look like a saint.’ Anna laughed. ‘But it’s not just her. It’s Matteo. When he’s with me, he’s strong and confident – but five minutes with his mum and he’ll roll over and accept whatever she says.’

  ‘Really?’ Imogen said, surprised.

  ‘I know. I’m trying to understand, but it’s like there’s a different side to him that I’ve never seen before.’

  ‘You should say something,’ Imogen urged. ‘It doesn’t sound like it’s going to settle on its own.’

  ‘But she’s his mother,’ Anna said, shaking her head. ‘Family is everything to Matteo. I don’t want to m
ake him feel he has to choose sides.’

  ‘So what’s the alternative? You keep quiet, and go slowly mad with it all?’

  ‘Don’t be dramatic, Imo,’ Anna said, smiling in spite of herself.

  ‘I’m serious,’ Imogen protested.

  ‘I can’t,’ Anna said.

  ‘Right. Well, if you really are refusing to get this out in the open, then at least come out with me and let off some steam tonight.’

  ‘That sounds like a perfect compromise,’ Anna said, laughing.

  Back at the apartment in the late afternoon, Imogen was sitting out on the balcony painting her toenails. Anna stepped outside to join her.

  ‘Good news,’ she said, brightly. ‘Matteo’s looking after Bella for the night. So I’m officially free to show you some of the local highlights.’

  ‘Great,’ Imogen said.

  ‘Nice colour,’ Anna said, admiring her toes.

  ‘Thanks. So, what’s the plan? Dress code?’

  Anna laughed. ‘Well, we’re starting at Luigi’s.’ She pointed out of the window at the humble restaurant across the square, currently populated by the lunchtime crowd of flip-flop-clad tourists complete with beach inflatables. ‘It does get a little more elegant at night, and there are people out here promenading, but I’d say you’d be just fine in what you’re wearing.’

  ‘That’s good, because I packed fairly light this time. You know what the budget-airline restrictions are like these days. I was hoping I’d get by on mixing and matching a few separates.’

  ‘You’ll be fine. No one’s very dressy over here. It’s just Capri where you’ll have to up your game. You’re still planning a trip there, right?’

  ‘Yes, definitely. Just before I leave. Can I tempt you to come too?’

  Anna’s face fell a little. ‘I’d love to, but I can’t – what with the shop and everything . . .’

  ‘OK, well, we’ll just have to cram in as much fun as possible in my time here, then. Starting now.’

  She got out her phone and took a photo of the two of them, faces pressed together, the square behind them.

  She uploaded it to Facebook: ‘In Sorrento, with the best sister ever.’

  That evening, Anna and Imogen were at Luigi’s, sitting at an outside table overlooking the fountain. Children played by the water in the pale moonlight, and, as they laughed, Anna remembered what it was about Italian culture that had attracted her to living there in the first place. She couldn’t allow the tension with Elisa to take all that positive feeling away.

  ‘What do you think of the linguine?’ Anna asked, watching her sister shovel laden forkfuls of the delicious fresh pasta into her mouth.

  ‘Incredible,’ Imogen enthused, her mouth still half full. ‘God, it’s nothing like the pasta you get at home, is it?’

  Anna shook her head. ‘Luigi’s is some of the best around, fresh, locally sourced ingredients, and made to his grandparents’ recipes. It’s a shame you won’t get to meet him tonight.’

  ‘Where is he?’

  ‘He’s gone to visit his son’s new baby. He’s just become a granddad and he’s over the moon about it.’

  ‘That’s nice,’ Imogen said. A granddad. So feasibly the same age as Vivien would have been. Her mind ticked over the possibility that he could be the man who had written to their grandmother. His initial – L. – supported her suspicion. ‘Is he as proud as Dad was?’

  ‘Almost. But no one could be quite as proud as that,’ Anna laughed.

  ‘What’s his surname?’ Imogen asked. Her heart raced at the prospect that she might be getting closer to unravelling the mystery.

  ‘I don’t know, actually,’ Anna said. ‘I haven’t had reason to ask.’

  Imogen felt disappointed, but tried not to let it show. Anna switched the subject back to their parents.

  ‘Are they all right, Mum and Dad, with what we’re doing? I feel awful taking Bella so far away from them.’

  ‘They’re fine,’ Imogen said. ‘Obviously they miss her, they miss all of you – but they know that you’ve made the decision that’s right for you as a family. And also that it’s something special, what Bella has here – the chance to experience two different cultures.’

  ‘Not boring old English, through and through, like us?’ Anna said. ‘No wonder you’re always seeking adventure somewhere or other, like Dad was in the old days.’

  Imogen fell silent for a moment. ‘Sometimes I think it would be easier, if I could just accept things as they are. If I was more like Mum, happy with her lot, only really caring about her family, keeping her home nice, the occasional bit of decent gossip to share with the neighbours . . .’

  ‘You don’t really mean that, though, do you?’ Anna asked, raising an eyebrow.

  ‘Not completely,’ Imogen said. ‘But maybe just a little bit. Because this restlessness, it doesn’t make commitment easy. How do you love someone, say that you’ll be there for them always, when a part of you is always wanting to get away?’

  Imogen looked for the answer in her sister’s eyes, but all she saw was concern. Was this how Vivien had felt too, all those years ago?

  Chapter 25

  The following morning, Imogen was sitting out on the balcony of Anna and Matteo’s apartment, sipping coffee as the square slowly woke up around her, people opening their shutters, strolling towards the bakery. Anna would be taking the afternoon off so that she and Imogen could take Bella out – but she had the morning to herself. Normally, she’d want to take her camera out and get some photos of the place, but that morning something else was on her mind. She held up one of the photos of her grandmother in Italy, matching it to the view in front of her – the same buildings, church and fountain. This was it – here in the square. Vivien had been here, decades before, and now her granddaughters were treading in her footsteps. But what exactly had happened here?

  She took out the map and looked at the places Vivien had marked. They seemed like the typical tourist stops – nothing unusual there. What had seemed like a catalogue of clues back home now seemed so little to go on, and with Luigi still out of town, she wouldn’t be able to follow up that lead either.

  That afternoon, Imogen, Anna and Bella took a trip to a café down by the sea. Bella played with some of the local children, and the sisters had time to themselves to talk.

  ‘You know how Granny V used to talk about this place?’ Imogen said.

  Her sister nodded. ‘It must have been such a special holiday for her, coming out here with Evie. Her first real holiday abroad.’

  ‘Yes,’ Imogen said, quietly. ‘Although sometimes I wonder . . .’ She let the sentence tail off.

  ‘What was that?’ Anna asked. She had half an eye on her daughter, who was toddling after a red ball, trying to keep up with the older children.

  ‘I’m not sure yet. I just have this feeling that something else happened in Granny’s life, something that none of us knew about – not even Dad or Martin. Do you think that’s possible?’

  ‘Really? I never thought of her as one for secrets,’ Anna said. ‘She and Grandpa would tell each other everything. Dad always said that.’

  ‘Who’s to say Dad knew the real story, though? Perhaps there was a side to her that none of us knew.’

  Bella fell, knocking her head, and let out a wail of pain. The other children ran after the ball, leaving her.

  Anna got to her feet and went over to her daughter, sweeping her up into her arms and giving her a cuddle.

  ‘Is she OK?’ Imogen asked.

  Anna nodded. ‘It was just a bump.’

  Imogen kissed her niece’s head.

  It was a good thing that she’d stopped before she said too much. She didn’t know the facts yet. Tomorrow she would find out more, and only then would she talk to Anna about it.

  That evening, while Anna and Matteo bathed Bella and settled her in bed, Imogen called Finn. She was anxious to hear his voice. She hoped that by talking to him about normal things – what she had been doing,
how things were going with his building project – they might be able to return to the good way things had once been. That calm and happy couple they’d been, who laughed together and told each other everything. She didn’t know exactly when that had stopped happening, only that it had.

  But she got voicemail. She listened to the outgoing message, taking some comfort in hearing his voice. She left him a voicemail saying that she was fine, and that she was thinking of him. When she hung up, she didn’t know quite what to do with herself.

  Unsettled, she got up and went on to the balcony and looked out at the sea beyond the houses. Out towards Capri, where she’d go at the end of the week; a place she’d often longed to see. She had a feeling she would find what she was missing there. Inspiration, perhaps. That had to be what it was.

  The silence out on the balcony left too much space for unsettling thoughts to circle in her mind. She picked up the phone again, and called her mum and dad’s landline. Jan picked up.

  ‘Hi, Mum, it’s me,’ Imogen said.

  ‘Hello, Imogen!’ Jan replied excitedly. ‘Or should I say Ciao! How are you?’

  ‘Really good, thanks. Anna and I have been having a great time. The shop’s a gem, and she and Matteo have done wonderful things with it. It’s a sweet little square here, where they live. I think you’d like it.’

  ‘Sounds very special,’ Jan said. ‘I’m so glad you got there OK, and everything’s going well. How’s Bella?’

  ‘Cute as ever. She’s even picked up a few Italian words.’

  ‘Ah, how sweet. I do miss her terribly. But I’m happy that it’s working out for them, of course.’

  ‘How’s everything with you? Dad?’

  ‘Oh, your father’s fine. He’s had a couple of new commissions, actually, for a man who lives locally. Quite rich, I think. He has that look of ageing rock star about him.’

  Imogen smiled. Jan’s gossiping was reassuringly familiar – she’d always made a habit of keeping tabs on new arrivals in the town.

  ‘And Martin?’

  ‘He’s fine. I went to the guesthouse yesterday. Actually I’m glad you called, Imogen, because there’s something I wanted to talk to you about. I spoke to her – Clarissa.’