by Susan Lewis
‘Will you please listen . . .’
‘No! I don’t want to hear anything you have to say, especially not about her.’
‘You’ve never even met her . . .’
‘And I’m not going to either. She’s nothing to do with me, and nor are you now, so go away and leave me alone.’ As she ended the call she broke into tearing sobs. ‘I hate him,’ she seethed. ‘What he’s done, the lies he’s told, it just makes a mockery of everything.’
Looking on dolefully, Maudie said, ‘I don’t think it means he doesn’t care about you, though.’
Reaching for her phone as it bleeped with another text, she saw it was from Guy and passed it to Maudie.
Can you meet me in the morning?
‘If it weren’t for my mum,’ Tierney said, ‘I’d run away with him now, but I can’t leave her to cope with this on her own. It wouldn’t be fair, she hasn’t done anything wrong, and I’ve been really mean to her . . .’ She started to cry again as she thought of how short she’d been with her mother earlier, when she must be going through hell.
Still holding Tierney’s mobile, Maudie checked it as it rang. ‘It’s her,’ she announced. ‘Do you want to answer it?’
Sniffing as she nodded, Tierney sat up and held out her hand. ‘Hey,’ she said as she clicked on.
‘Are you all right?’ her mother asked.
‘No. Dad just rang. He wants to talk, but I told him I’m not interested in anything he has to say.’
Her mother sighed. ‘Maybe it’s a good thing we’re going away,’ she said. ‘A bit of distance, a change of environment, might do us all some good.’
A spark of hope leapt in Tierney’s chest. ‘So is he coming?’
There was a pause before Lainey replied, ‘No, he’s not coming.’
Tierney’s heart sank. ‘Mum, you’re crying,’ she wailed. ‘Please don’t cry. We don’t need him there. It’ll be all right.’
‘I’m not crying,’ Lainey assured her.
Knowing she was, Tierney said, ‘Do you want me to come home?’
‘It’s OK, you stay and have a chat with Maudie. I’ll be fine.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Of course I am.’
‘Love you.’
‘Love you too. Goodnight.’
‘Goodnight,’ Tierney whispered back, knowing that all she wanted in the world right now was her mother’s arms around her.
After ringing off she swung her legs over the side of the bed and pushed her hands through her hair.
‘What are you going to do about you know who?’ Maudie asked worriedly. ‘He’s still waiting for an answer.’
Picking up her phone, Tierney began pressing in a text.
Everything going mental here. Sorry. Will get in touch again when back from Italy. ‘There,’ she said, passing it over for Maudie to read, ‘satisfied?’ and telling herself everything was going to feel ten times better once Skye arrived around lunchtime tomorrow, she went into the bathroom to turn on the shower.
The following morning Lainey was upstairs packing Zav’s suitcase. Though he was supposed to be helping, she’d agreed to let him go with Max to collect Tierney and on to the station for Skye. He seemed to be seeing Max as a Tom substitute, and the way Max seemed happy to be there for him was very much to Max’s credit. She knew how much it would please Tom, if he could see it, though his feelings would surely come heavily loaded with guilt for causing so much insecurity and heartache in his younger son that he needed Max’s support.
As far as she knew, there had been no more contact between Tom and Max since Max had stormed off the other day. She was sure, though, that Tom would have tried to talk to him, much as he had with Tierney and Zav, but it was pointless attempting this by phone. They needed to see him, to have him show them he still cared and that no matter what, he would always be their dad.
More than anything right now she wanted to hear his car pull up outside, to know he was back, even if it was only to see them before they left in the morning. Better still would be to hear him say he’d changed his mind and was coming after all, except, given what was hanging over them now, would that really be a good idea?
Reaching for her mobile as it rang, she saw it was him and clicked on.
‘You rang earlier?’ he said, without a hello.
She had, but hadn’t got through, and since she hadn’t really known what she wanted to say she’d rung off without leaving a message. ‘It was nothing,’ she told him. ‘Or actually, I suppose I was wondering how things were over there.’
‘Really?’ He sounded incredulous. ‘And you care?’
Stung, she said, ‘Please don’t take that attitude with me. I’m trying . . .’
‘All right, all right, I’m sorry,’ he cut in sharply. ‘It’s been a long night and actually, if you must know, things aren’t all that great.’
Not entirely sure how she felt about that, given Kirsten’s condition, she said, ‘So is she . . .? Is this a primary?’
‘No, it’s a secondary, but I don’t want to get into discussing it now. I need to get back there, and anyway this reception’s not good enough. Can you hear me OK?’
‘Yes, I can hear you perfectly. So I’m guessing we’re not going to see you before we go.’
Sighing, he said, ‘I promise you, if I could make it happen, I would, but I’m afraid I can’t. I’ll try ringing the children again . . . Actually, I finally managed to speak to Max last night, but he ended up telling me to go fuck myself, so I can’t say it went well.’
‘I’m sorry about that,’ she responded, without really meaning it.
‘I’ve got to wonder, Lainey,’ he continued, ‘exactly what you’ve been telling them.’
Outraged, she cried, ‘What I’m telling them? Can I remind you, you’re the one who spoke to Max in the first place, not me, and it seems you somehow forgot to tell him that Kirsten has cancer. Just how did that manage to slip your mind, Tom?’
‘I don’t know what you’re trying to imply with that,’ he raged back, ‘but for your information, I didn’t get as far as that before he stormed out. And now we know what difference it makes, absolutely none, because he still won’t speak to me, and nor will Tierney.’
‘And I suppose you’re about to blame me for Tierney being hurt and angry too. Well, before you do . . .’
‘I’m not going to do anything of the sort,’ he broke in furiously, ‘and this is getting us nowhere. The reason I rang is to tell you that I’ve left money in the top right-hand drawer of my desk for the children to spend in Italy.’
Taking a moment to bring herself down, she said, ‘I’m sure they’ll be very grateful, though I don’t imagine for a minute that it’ll make up for you not being there.’
To her surprise he didn’t rise to it, and her words suddenly seemed petty.
His silence continued, but she knew he was still there, and as she pictured him in her mind’s eye a fierce longing engulfed her.
‘How are you feeling about going?’ he asked quietly.
Don’t be nice to me, she wanted to cry, it just makes it worse. ‘I’m fine,’ she replied, more stiffly than she’d intended.
‘Have you managed to make contact with anyone in Tuoro yet?’
‘I don’t have any names,’ she reminded him, ‘apart from my grandparents, and for all I know they’re not even alive.’
‘So you never received a reply to the letter you sent?’
‘The one addressed to Signor and Signora Clementi, Tuoro sul Trasimeno? You know I didn’t. Maybe you’ve forgotten with so much else on your mind.’
‘No, I hadn’t forgotten, I just wondered if something might have turned up in the last couple of weeks.’
‘No, it hasn’t. I’ll be starting from scratch, more or less.’ Which is why I need you. We were always going to do it together.
As though he might have been reading her mind, he let the silence run until they finally spoke at the same time.
‘You first,’ h
e said.
‘No, you,’ she insisted. ‘What were you going to say?’
‘I was going to wish you luck,’ he said. ‘I hope you find what you’re looking for.’
Her eyes closed as emotion threatened to overwhelm her.
‘And you?’ he prompted. ‘What were you going to say?’
She’d been about to ask when she might see him again, but instead, she said, ‘It doesn’t matter. It wasn’t important. I should go now, I’ve still got a lot of packing to do.’
‘OK. I’ll try calling the children again, but if I can’t get through, please don’t let them think I don’t love them.’
‘Of course not.’ She waited for him to say the same to her, but they either lost the connection at that point, or he simply rang off.
Chapter Thirteen
‘OH MY GOD, what if it turns out you’re Bruno Tonioli’s long-lost sister?’ Tierney cried as they wheeled their luggage out of arrivals into the blistering heat and bedlam of Pisa airport. Every café and coffee bar was overflowing, the traffic was in chaos and there seemed to be queues to join queues whose ends were nowhere in sight.
‘Who?’ Zav said, wrinkling his nose as he checked to make sure he had a mobile reception.
‘You know, the bloke off Strictly,’ Skye replied. ‘The crazy one.’
‘That would be so hilaire,’ Tierney declared, ducking to avoid Max’s guitar as he swung round to watch a couple of passing girls.
‘You think you’re so funny,’ Lainey commented, relieved that everyone seemed in good spirits and that their driver had taken charge of her and Zav’s overloaded trolley.
‘Oh, Mum, what if you’re related to Fabio Cannavaro?’ Zav gasped eagerly. ‘That would be so cool. We could get to see all the matches,’ he told Alfie, who was looking faintly bemused.
‘Trust you to come up with a footballer,’ Tierney sighed irritably. ‘No, I reckon she’s going to be related to Nancy Dell’Olio . . .’
Skye and Stacy burst into laughter.
‘. . . or Donatella, or Giorgio Armani. Just imagine if you were, Mum. That would be like so amazing.’
‘Personally, I’d say there’s a good chance Pavarotti’s your dad,’ Stacy put in reflectively.
Lainey sliced her a look.
‘More like Berlusconi,’ Max put in. ‘The rate he knobs around he’s probably everyone’s dad. What are those parties he has? Bunga bunga. We’re definitely going in for some of those while we’re here.’
‘What, just the five of us?’ Tierney grimaced.
‘We’re seven,’ Lainey reminded her.
‘No way are you two coming,’ Tierney shot back.
‘Charming,’ Lainey muttered, struggling to keep an eye on the driver as he weaved through the crowds to where he’d left the car. That would be just perfect, if he turned out to be a fraud and she lost all her luggage before they’d even got on the road.
It was hard to believe that no more than two hours had passed since they’d left a wet and windy England, every one of them in a tense or querulous mood after getting up so early. Now, along with their coats and boots, the edginess seemed to have been shed and everyone, including Lainey, was feeling the pleasing anticipation that came with the start of a holiday. It was all going to be fine, she kept telling herself, just as long as she didn’t think about Tom.
‘Mum, have you got any suncream?’ Tierney called out from behind her.
Digging into her bag, Lainey found and passed back a tube of factor thirty, and received a groan of protest in response.
‘I’ll never get a tan with that,’ Tierney complained.
‘You’re already a gorgeous colour,’ Skye told her, sounding both envious and annoyed. ‘It’s me who needs to bronze up a bit. Max! What are you doing?’ she cried as his trolley crashed into hers.
‘Sorry, this thing is out of control,’ he growled, grabbing his guitar before it fell off the top. ‘Shit, man, it’s hot. Lainey, has this place we’re going got a pool? It better have, or we’re going to fry.’
‘It has a pool,’ she confirmed, helping Stacy to steer her trolley round a rowdy group of Brits. ‘Oh my God, look at the queue for the car rental. Max, are you sure you want to pick one up here? Why don’t you wait till we get there?’
Instantly persuaded, since it seemed half of humanity was waiting for the car-hire buses, Max swung his trolley along after them to where their driver was waiting next to his vehicle and Zav and Alfie were flirting with a couple of Italian girls in the next car.
‘That’s my brov,’ Max declared, giving Zav a playful cuff. ‘Getting his priorities right as soon as we arrive.’
‘Will you listen to him?’ Tierney groaned, handing her vanity case to the driver, who looked as though he ought to be modelling for Calvin Klein.
Flipping back her silky hair, Skye treated him to an outrageously suggestive smile as he took her bag next. ‘Thanks,’ she said, breathily.
Lainey’s and Stacy’s eyes met with no small irony.
‘Interesting times ahead,’ Stacy murmured as they began piling into the air-conditioned interior, Zav and Alfie in the far back, Max, Skye and Tierney in the middle and Lainey and Stacy behind the driver.
‘You wait,’ Max was saying to Zav and Alfie over his shoulder, ‘once these Italian chicks clock yours truly they’re going to come flocking, so we’ll have plenty of bunga bunga, guys.’
As Tierney attempted a withering put-down, and Skye thumped him, Lainey looked at Stacy again and rolled her eyes. Heaven only knew what they’d let themselves in for, coming away with two hormonal teenage girls and a budding musician who was so full of himself. She shuddered to think of how grown up Zav and Alfie might be by the time they got back.
Best not to dwell on it now, and deal with whatever disasters arose when, if, they ever did. On the other hand, worrying about them and how she was going to keep them all entertained might just be better than tormenting herself over Tom. He wasn’t here, nor was he going to come, so she had to put him out of her mind and focus on how wonderful it was to be in the country of her birth.
And it was wonderful, she decided, even calming, in its way, or it might be if she could force herself to detach from all she’d left behind and start to unwind. Actually, she felt sure it was already having a beneficial effect, because she really was loving the sound of Italian being spoken, even though she didn’t understand it, and the thought of exploring a history and culture that she was a part of was quite enthralling. Not that she was experiencing a natural affinity or anything, it was far too soon for that, but as they left the airport complex to start heading south, the sun-baked Tuscan countryside was definitely rousing something inside her.
She could hardly take her eyes from the swathes of dry brown fields and feathery grasses rolling away from the road to the languid stretch of mountains sitting watchfully on a close horizon. Their tops were hazed by heat, their slopes blotched by the odd cloud shadow. They passed windmills rotating imperiously against a backdrop of pristine blue; pylons linking like messengers across the landscape, orderly saplings, tangled woods and acres of sunflowers, their faces turned away from the road. It made her think of Tom and how he was turning his back on her, and the ache in her heart grew heavier and harder to bear.
Signs to Firenze began appearing, and for some reason a flood of memories rose up from the past. It wasn’t as though they’d ever been there, but she found herself remembering the places they had visited, the holidays they’d loved, the romantic weekends without kids, the excitement of new adventures with them. She began searching for signs from those days she might have missed or decided to ignore over the years: unusual silences, long phone calls she’d thought were to Nadia, or his publisher; an eagerness to get home when they’d seemed to be having such a good time. It was all there, and as the pain of it clenched around her heart she closed her eyes. Where was he now? What was he doing? Was he thinking of them, wondering how their journey had gone, feeling sorry he wasn’t with them, o
r glad? More likely he wasn’t thinking of them at all. He’d always been good at that, switching off, or compartmentalising as he called it. If only she could do the same.
By the time they reached the border with Umbria they’d been driving for over two hours and the others were all fast asleep. Stacy’s head was on Lainey’s shoulder, her phone still clamped in her hand. Since her job on the magazine had been confirmed, she’d been working all hours, rushing around the country interviewing potential contributors, and reporting back to her bosses at the end of each day. Her plan was to spend most of her time in Italy on the computer researching and writing articles for the first edition, submitting ideas for future issues and perhaps concocting a travel blog for the magazine’s website.
How much was Stacy actually going to see of the country? How ill she could afford this time away. Lainey felt terrible for not trying harder to persuade her to put her job first, but she hadn’t been able to face the thought of coming without her. It’s only a week, she reminded herself, and if she needs to go back earlier I’ll drive her to the airport myself.
‘Lago Trasimeno,’ the driver suddenly announced, glancing at her in the rear-view mirror.
Experiencing an almost childlike surge of excitement as she caught her first glimpse of the lake’s easterly shores, Lainey broke into a smile. The sparkle of water was soon gone, masked by dense woods and warehouses, but she was here at last, very close to where her mother had grown up and their roots were buried. She turned to gaze out of the other window, across the rolling plains to where a medieval-looking town, maybe a city, was perched in a sprawl and tumble over a distant hillside.
‘Is Cortona,’ the driver told her. ‘There is Tuscany. Here, where is lake, this is Umbria.’
Knowing Cortona was the closest large town to Tuoro, Lainey said, ‘How much further do we have to go?’
‘Is only few kilometres,’ he assured her. He glanced at the dashboard. ‘Is very hot today, thirty-seven degrees.’
‘Very hot,’ she agreed, already longing to step back into its scorching embrace.
