Chapter Sixteen
I woke with a thudding headache. My hangovers were getting worse. Or maybe the alcohol was getting stronger, and the measures were getting bigger. I needed coffee, tablets, and carbs all at once. Today was definitely a day for pancakes, but Paolo wouldn’t be back until later, so I’d have to make do with a large portion of breakfast cake. I’d had a restless night, thinking about Tony and couldn’t wait for him to get back. He’d only been gone a day, but I missed him being around the place, and weirdly felt a bit lost without him, having had him on tap for the past few weeks.
I threw on a strappy turquoise dress, with my sunglasses, and a baseball cap for good measure. The sun was not my friend today and I needed as much protection as possible from its glare. I popped two paracetamol and floated down to breakfast, trying to decide how best to backtrack on my not really looking for anything position. Should I wait for another romantic moment to present itself – and let’s face it, Tuscany was constantly throwing them at us – or be more practical about it. The thought of having a deep-and-meaningful conversation scared me to death and I didn’t want to make an embarrassing reality-TV-show moment out of it – who knew how long we even had left out here together.
The selection of cakes on the buffet was excellent. Lemon cake, ciambellone, pistachio sponge. My stomach growled, the alcohol still swirling around from the night before, desperate for some stodge to attach itself to. I was tempted to get a slice of each, which was not like me at all. I was going completely off the rails out here. I decided on the lemon cake and a banana – two of my five-a-day right there – and poured myself an orange juice for a third. I could always go back for more. And probably would. All I needed was a bucket of caffe latte and I’d be sorted. The sun was up and beaming, adding light and heat to my headache as I made my way outside to find a shaded spot. Mia was nowhere to be seen, but Viola was frantically running around, carrying dirty plates through to the kitchen.
‘Ciao,’ I called after her, looking out at the patio, where everyone was already up and breakfasting. Dawn was tapping boiled eggs on the table and buttering toast; Ian and Cathy were huddled in conversation with a fruit platter and a pot of coffee on the go; and the puppies were rolling around on the floor, with Ellie crawling after them. Where was Mia?
‘Is everything OK?’ I asked, as Viola reappeared, huffing and puffing.
‘You’d like a coffee?’ she said, ignoring my question.
‘Yes please. Is Mia here?’
‘No Mia, only me,’ Viola said, rushing off to get my coffee as if her life depended on it. I appreciated her sense of urgency – it did feel like an emergency situation this morning.
The lemon cake was fresh and delicious, and I took a photo of the orange juice with the swimming pool in the background. Despite feeling slightly rough, I wanted to remember this place forever. The slow start of a delicious breakfast, followed by doing whatever the hell I fancied later, which wouldn’t be very much. I’d done a lot less this past week and felt so much calmer and happier for it.
Viola placed a large coffee in front of me, the rich smell perking me up immediately.
‘Grazie mille, Viola,’ I said, picking it up and taking a gulp. Italian coffee always seemed to be at perfect drinking temperature; there was no need to wait.
‘Prego,’ she said, with a nod, wiping the table next to me and taking the empty plates.
‘Has Mia gone into town?’ I asked, cramming a piece of lemon cake into my mouth.
‘To Florence,’ Viola said. ‘For an accident.’
I frowned, trying to understand. ‘Do you mean accidentally? By mistake?’
‘Not a mistake,’ Viola said. ‘Driving in the car.’
‘She’s driven all the way to Florence?’
‘For the boys and the accident.’
My heart missed a beat as I realised what she was saying. ‘The boys? Paolo and Tony have had an accident?’
She nodded, looking fretful. ‘Si. I think, but not knowing for definitely.’
Oh God. I knew that Vespa wasn’t safe. Images of Paolo and Tony sprawled unconscious on the side of a road somewhere flashed through my mind.
‘Are they hurt?’ I whispered, panic rising in my throat.
Viola looked completely lost. ‘I asleep when Mia call. She ask me do the breakfast, so I am here to do the breakfast.’
‘And you don’t know what happened?’ I felt sick. ‘Shall we call Mia and check everything is OK?’
‘No phone,’ Viola said, shaking her head. ‘I waiting and praying for her call.’
‘We can use my phone – I’ve got her number,’ I said, hurriedly opening WhatsApp, where the photo of Tony Mia had sent me, immediately popped up.
‘She left in the kitchen.’ Viola pulled Mia’s phone out of her apron. ‘Rushing to the hospital.’
‘They’re in hospital?’ I parroted back, trying to decide if that was good news. They weren’t dead then. Not yet anyway.
Viola nodded. ‘I think, yes. In hospital. Mamma mia, non lo so… I get you more coffee.’ She walked off, muttering to herself in Italian. It was happening again, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
*
It had been hours without any news. Viola shrugged and shook her head in despair every time we crossed paths. They could at least have called and let her know what was happening. What kind of crappy communication system was this? Viola didn’t have a mobile phone, so we were relying on them calling the landline for an update, and what bloody use was that?
‘They very rarely leave the vineyard,’ Holly had said, apologetically, when I called. ‘I’ve never needed their mobile numbers, and they’ve never offered. Sorry, Abs, they’ll be back soon enough, I’m sure.’
‘Unless they’re seriously hurt,’ I replied.
‘I’m sure we’d know by now if they were,’ Holly reassured me. But she didn’t know. Nobody did. I rearranged myself on the sun lounger and put my headphones back on to block out my thoughts. The dance music was working well. Transporting me back to Ibiza. I’d already busied myself for an hour finishing my painting of Tony, and there was nothing else to do. My fresh eyes had decided it needed a bit of sparkle. Some gold leaf layered in around the edges. A modern-day religious fresco, with Sistine Chapel vibes. The Italian artists had somehow infiltrated my creative notions and I couldn’t see any other way to do it. I’d taken those early colour blocks and transformed Tony into a paintbrush-wielding god.
I must have dropped off to sleep, but the change in atmosphere woke me way before the puppies started barking and running towards the gate. For a blissful second, I forgot there was anything wrong and then my stomach clenched as I remembered. My phone blinked 14:00. Where the hell were they? I stretched and looked around, just in time to see Mia turning into the drive. Paolo was clearly visible in the front seat, with his arm in a sling. But no Tony. I leapt up and ran to meet the car, desperate to know, but afraid to find out, what had happened.
‘Buonasera, Paolo,’ I said, pulling open the passenger door. ‘Welcome home, thank goodness you’re safe!’
‘Grazie, Abi. It is good to be back.’
He gave me a weak smile and Mia looked pale and tired.
‘Are you OK?’ I asked.
She nodded. ‘I’m not used to driving so far and the roads are…’ she paused, choosing her words carefully.
The word dangerous sprang to mind, but I didn’t want to offer it up. ‘Chaotic?’ I tried.
‘…a challenge.’ She nodded, stumbling out of the car. I didn’t ask about Tony, but surely, they’d be in bits if something awful had happened. Paolo’s arm was in full plaster inside the sling, and so was his leg.
‘What happened?’ I asked, double-checking the back of the Uno. I should have told Tony about Josh, made him more cautious, run after the bike and convinced them to go in the car. I could see him in my mind’s eye, half-frowning, half-smiling – Vespas are the best way to travel in Italy. How wrong he’d been.
‘It was an accident,’ Paolo mumbled. ‘A car going much too fast.’ He was completely dazed and highly medicated. Clearly away with the fairies.
‘Let’s get you inside and into bed. You need to sleep,’ Mia said softly, helping him out of the car and handing him his crutches. He swung himself along the gravel, the puppies yapping at his feet, to welcome him home.
‘Can you grab Nero?’ Mia asked, as she scooped up the other two. I picked him up, and he wriggled hard against me, desperate to break free and get back to his master. Mia bundled Bianco and Toppa into the puppy crate and I added a disgruntled Nero. He surveyed his tiny prison with disdain, then lay down in a sulk.
‘Is Tony still in hospital…?’ I asked, tentatively, following Paolo up the stairs.
‘No, no, no.’ Paolo winced as he navigated the steps, Mia hovering by his side, ready to help.
‘It was only Paolo in hospital,’ Mia said.
‘Was Tony hurt as well, then?’ I tried again, feeling like they were dodging the question. I didn’t want to upset Mia or stress Paolo out. I just wanted to know what had happened. Where was Tony? Neither of them answered as Paolo heaved himself up the final step and into the house.
Why were they ignoring me? I was just about to ask again when my frustration was interrupted by the continuous bibbing of a horn. The puppies started barking again and Tony zoomed in on his dusty blue Vespa, visor up, a victorious smile on his face. Very much alive. I thought I was going to throw up, but I burst into tears instead, running over to him, not sure what to do. I was relieved, but unbearably angry at the same time.
‘How could you be so stupid?’ I shouted, trying to keep the tears under control. ‘What were you thinking, going all the way to Florence on this knackered old thing?’ Tony looked bewildered as all the tension and worry from the past few hours burst out of me.
‘It was fine, Abi, what do you mean?’ he said, jumping off the Vespa and unclipping his helmet.
‘I mean motorbikes are dangerous, Tony! I mean you getting into an accident in this death trap! THAT’S what I mean.’
‘But I didn’t get into an accident,’ he said, taking both of my hands.
‘A car hit Paolo as he crossed the road,’ Mia said gently, interrupting my outburst. ‘He wasn’t on the Vespa.’
‘I was at the hotel when it happened,’ Tony added, calmly. ‘The driver has admitted all responsibility.’
‘What?’ I took a step back, stunned into silence. ‘Oh… I see.’ I couldn’t get my thoughts in order. ‘Right. Sorry. I just assumed…’ Oh God. My heart was racing, my breathing fraught. I couldn’t calm myself down. He wasn’t on the Vespa.
‘Are you OK, Abi?’ Tony asked, slowly. His brow wrinkled in concern as he walked me over to a chair. Nero started whining in his crate. ‘Sit down for a second.’
‘I thought something awful had happened,’ I eventually sniffed, as Mia and Paolo went inside and left us to it.
‘Well, it was pretty awful for Paolo. The car came out of nowhere by all accounts and drove straight into him. He’s broken his leg in three places and his arm in two.’
‘I was so scared…’ I sat staring into space, my breathing still shaky.
‘I’m really sorry, I should have thought to let you know. We didn’t mean to worry you.’ Tony looked at me tenderly. ‘I’m fine. Absolutely fine. See…?’ He held up his arms and looked at them, then opened them out to hug me, but I shook my head. I was too het up to back down.
‘You’re still an irresponsible idiot for driving all that way on a crappy old Vespa,’ I said, the anger welling back up inside me. I was so conflicted. Part relieved Tony was OK and part furious I’d been made to feel all these feelings when he’d been fine the whole time. I stood up abruptly, scraping my chair along the floor.
‘Abi, come on?’ Tony called after me, as I pushed past him and ran up to my room. I needed some space. To cry in private and think. I hadn’t realised the panic I’d felt when I got the call about Josh was still so close to the surface. Just waiting for the slightest trigger to set it off.
I took a couple of deep breaths – in for eight and out for eight. Thank God I hadn’t allowed myself to become invested in Tony – I could only imagine the state I’d be in if I had. My golden rule was there to protect me from this exact situation. From caring too much about something or someone outside of my control. Something or someone that could then completely break me.