Chapter Twenty-three
I hid my bike in the bushes at the back of Lavedrine X and messaged Xavier to check the coast was clear.
Me:Is the rabbit still in the hutch?
Xavier:???
Me:Has Holly gone out?
Xavier:Yes.
A man of few words. I knocked on the back door and waited. I wanted to get cracking and wasn’t sure how much time I’d have before she got back.
‘Bonjour, Abi,’ Xavier greeted me with a big smile, gesturing me in.
‘Morning, morning,’ I said, giving him a kiss. ‘Did you manage to get everything?’
‘Yes, all sorted. It’s all in the bedroom and Holly is at the wholesalers.’
I followed Xavier upstairs to their flat. Dark wooden floors, with the occasional rug, and bright white walls, with framed photos of Holly and Xavier smiling and happy. Skiing in Verbier, kissing in front of the Eiffel Tower, cutting the ribbon to officially open Lavedrine X… different versions of their faces peered out from every corner. The cream leather sofa looked battered but snuggly and the kitchen was fit to bursting. Pots and pans hanging from the ceiling, an overpacked spice rack, a window box full of herbs. The flat was cosy and homely and very Holly.
‘We only have two bedrooms, so this one will be the nursery,’ Xavier said, showing me into a tiny room. He’d started to clear it, and a tower of boxes now stood in the hallway, but there was still a large, overstuffed bookcase and a table and chair in my way. ‘I just need to move the desk into the middle, to give you space.’
‘Let me help,’ I said, putting my bag down and grabbing one end. We wobbled it into the centre of the room and Xavier took the chair out. He came back with a dust sheet and covered the desk, then hung another one over the bookcase.
‘This one is screwed in, so has to stay. Coffee?’
‘Yes, please. I think with the time I’ve got, it’s best if I concentrate on one of the walls and you guys paint the others.’
Xavier nodded. ‘Whatever you think – you’re the artist.’ He left me to it, and I flipped the lid off the large tin of lavender paint and gave it a satisfying stir with a wooden spoon. There was nothing better than the smell, the texture and the feel of a freshly opened tin of paint and I couldn’t wait to transform this boring old wall into something Holly would love. I twirled my hair into a topknot and put on the old apron I’d borrowed from Mia, as Xavier reappeared in the doorway.
‘Caffe latte for the lady,’ he said, putting it on top of the dust sheet on the desk. ‘I’ll be downstairs in the restaurant if you need anything. You’ve got about four hours.’
‘Best get on with it then,’ I said, surveying the wall and pulling out the pencil sketch I’d done earlier. ‘Thanks for the coffee!’
I’d already decided on a foodie theme and had Mia’s pencils and paints with me to get all the details down. I’d toyed with a sunrise or sunset but thought that might be too bright for a nursery; it needed to be a nice, calming space, full of sleepy colours. I poured the purple paint into my roller tray to cover the old mint green. Each swipe of the roller cleaning the wall to create a fresh space for myself, a wall-sized easel to reimagine. I opened the white and the blues and started layering on the colour, smooshing the paintbrush to create soft, fluffy clouds in a light, night sky. A crescent moon glowing in the corner and a darker edge of inky blue at the top, where the stars poked through. The beginning of dreams. Each cloud had a different type of food hanging from a gossamer thread. A strawberry, a piece of cheese, a wedge of cake, a hamburger, and each one had its own face and personality; the cheese was smiling, the hamburger was snoozing, a ravioli dad hugged his gnocchi son. I was just finishing off a pineapple reading a book when I heard voices on the stairs.
‘You can’t go up there,’ Xavier called loudly, to give me some warning.
‘Why not? I need to get changed,’ Holly replied, exasperated.
I stood back and took a good look at the wall. It was finished and it was exactly how I’d pictured. Dreamy, but mischievous and slightly surreal. A night sky, full of stars and wonder, with lots of food in there too – what else could it be for the nursery of two chefs. A wall of friendly foods for my fairy-godchild to be.
‘I’ve got a little surprise for yoouuuu,’ I called, putting my paintbrush down and opening the door a tiny crack.
‘Abs? What are you doing here?’ Holly said, pressing her nose to mine at the edge of the door.
‘I wanted to give you a goodbye gift to say thank you for looking after me. Thank you for everything.’
‘She’s been working on it all day,’ Xavier said.
‘What is it?’ Holly said.
‘Je ne sais pas, mon chere,’ he replied. ‘I haven’t seen it myself.’
‘Are you readyyyy?’ I opened the door to let them both in and Holly gasped in delight, then burst into tears. Xavier took the whole wall in, then gave me a huge smile.
‘I love it,’ Holly sobbed. ‘Sorry, it’s my hormones. They’re happy tears, I promise.’
‘Are you sure? I don’t want one of those Changing Rooms disaster moments. I can cover it back up in the mint green if you hate it.’
‘Not at all. It is wonderful, Abi, thank you,’ Xavier said, putting his arm around me.
‘It’s called “Dreaming of Food” and it’s my first ever mural,’ I said, with a smile.
‘It’s perfect,’ Holly said. ‘We’ll tell baby Lavedrine that Aunty Abs painted it and we’ll think of you every morning and every night.’
‘Every sunrise and every sunset,’ I said, tapping my necklace three times.
*
‘Is that everything?’ Paolo asked, standing on one foot as he put my suitcase in the boot.
‘Yep. That’s me. One suitcase, one handbag – I like to travel light.’ I gave him a kiss. ‘Thank you so much for everything, Paolo, I’ve had the most wonderful time. Good luck with the new guests next week.’
Holly and Xavier had Vespa-ed over to see me off and Xavier gave me one of his big-armed French hugs. ‘Look after her please,’ I said, nodding at Holly. ‘Especially now.’
Holly flashed me a look.
‘Why especially now?’ Mia asked, softly.
‘Oops, sorry,’ I said.
‘We weren’t going to tell everyone for a few more weeks, but we are expecting a baby,’ Holly said, beaming from ear to ear, and Xavier put a protective arm around her.
‘Congratulations!’ Mia said, happily, exchanging a smile with Paolo. He nodded. ‘We have the same news to share. Our baby is due in March.’
Holly clapped her hands in delight, and Xavier shook Paolo’s hand. My heart sank a tiny bit. I wasn’t just leaving – I was being left behind. This was the future I’d imagined for me and Josh and yet here I was, a decade on, with no one and nothing. I’d slowed my life down so much that I’d been taken over by everyone else. I was happy for them all. Of course I was. But it was a stark reminder that life keeps going, whether you choose to go with it or not. Other people’s lives were moving on – but a part of mine had stopped a long time ago. One last goodbye to make before I got in the car. I gave Bianco and Toppa a pat, then picked Nero up and gave him a big kiss.
‘Goodbye, little man,’ I said, holding him up in the air. He looked off to the side, avoiding eye contact, then gave me a conciliatory lick as I nestled him into my arms one last time and kissed him again. He was so gentle and soft, I didn’t want to let him go, but Mia was waiting, and I had a train to catch. ‘OK then, well I’m going to go now,’ I said, giving him one final kiss and putting him on the floor. He sat and looked at me, like a very good boy. I’d swiped a slice of prosciutto from the breakfast buffet for just this moment and got it out of my pocket, tearing it into three for each of the puppies.
‘I’m going to miss you so much,’ Holly said, walking me to the car. ‘But you know where we are now, so you can come over any time. And you have to come back when the baby is born, so that’s not too far away. Aunty Abs.’
‘I’ll be here!’ I replied. My heart skipped a beat at the thought of a tiny Holly or Xavier in the world as I opened the door to the car. ‘Oh! I nearly forgot!’ I unzipped my bag and pressed the letter for Tony into Holly’s hands. I’d decided to keep it short and sweet; it would be too late by the time he read it anyway. I just wanted him to know that he had meant something to me. That it hadn’t been nothing.
‘I’ll make sure he gets it,’ Holly said, as Mia started the engine.
Dear Tony,
I’m so sorry I missed you! An incredible job has come up, so by the time you read this I’ll be at the Venice Film Festival doing what I do best – turning celebrities into Orcs. I got your note on Sunday morning and thought you’d flown back to LA. It was a relief when Paolo told me you were coming back – that you hadn’t just left without saying goodbye. And now I’ve had to leave without saying goodbye to you.
I’ve had the most amazing few weeks here with you – your film said it so much better than any letter ever could – the food, the wine, the laughs. Thank you for reminding me what it feels like to really live. For taking me to Florence and fot the car bonnet picnic in Siena. For the night at the opera and sneaking us into the Uffizi to see the Botticelli Room, for the road trip singalongs, for your beautiful painting of me (which I’ll treasure forever) and for being so lovely and fun. Thank you for looking after me. You wanted to take me for dinner in San Gimignano and I’m sorry I said no. If I ever see you again, my answer is yes.
Abi xx
Holly stood back next to Xavier, who had all three puppies in his arms. Paolo leant against his crutches and gave me a final wave, and Mia set off for Poggibonsi, the farmhouse and vineyard disappearing in the rear-view mirror. I took a quick selfie as we pulled out onto the road, and I managed to get the Vigneto Almagno sign in. I felt so sad to leave. No, it was more than sad – I was bereft. This would never have happened if I’d just popped out for a quick four-day trip. I wouldn’t have got so attached to it all: the place, the people, the coffee, Nero. I felt hot tears rolling down my cheeks as I clutched my handbag into my lap.
‘You can come back any time, you know,’ Mia said, giving me the side-eye.
‘I know. I’ve just had such a lovely time. I wasn’t expecting… it. Any of it.’ I felt strange and empty. But full at the same time. I needed to pull myself together.
Mia put her foot down to get me to the station on time, the radio playing quietly in the background. My last ever trip in the Uno. I wound down the window and looked out across the Tuscan countryside, a thousand different shades of green, each field producing a different wine, a different taste and style. The farmers were out stripping the vines and bringing in the grapes, in the same way they did every year, and this place would carry on without me – just one in a million tourists that came and went every summer.
‘Congratulations again on your baby news,’ I said, as Mia pulled up outside the station. I leant across and hugged her goodbye, and she popped the boot so I could grab my suitcase.
‘Safe travels to Venice, Abi! Another beautiful place to spend some time,’ Mia said, dreamily. I waved as she drove off, a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I was on my own again. I bought a ticket and validated it at the machine as the train pulled in. The doors could be quite aggressive, and the driver wouldn’t wait. Doors open, people off, people on, doors shut. No messing around. I leapt on, pulling my case up behind me, and miraculously found an empty seat. My Tuscan adventure was officially over and I was on my way somewhere else. Here I go again on my own, I hummed to myself. No more Holly or Nero, no more of Paolo’s pancakes and Mia’s kindness. No more Tony.
I pulled out my phone and put my headphones on to watch his mini film again. My happy Tuscan world encapsulated in just a few minutes. Whenever I needed a reminder of my time out here, all my memories would be sitting here on Instagram, or in San Gimignano waiting for me to come back. Although Tony wouldn’t be here next time. I couldn’t help but smile as I watched it – the star of this film really was a totally different me to London me. I was going home a new person and I wanted to hold on to that version of myself for as long as possible. I didn’t want to slip back into my old, controlling ways. I needed to start taking chances again. My lists had to be less about cleaning and more about trying new things and going to new places. I’d wasted so much time locked up in my own gilded cage, I had to start building my world around me again. No more being the bridesmaid, or the best supporting actress, observing everyone else’s lives progressing from the sidlines. I needed to back myself in my own story.
I watched the view change from green to grey as the vineyards got less and less frequent, dissolving into the distance, as the city buildings started to appear. The familiar sight of Florence beckoning. Botticelli’s Florence. Mine and Tony’s Florence.
No time to enjoy it today, though. I had to get on. A fleeting transition onto another platform and another train, cross-country through Italy on a double-decker to Venice. As the view changed once more from city to country and back again, the conductor announced the final stop, and a frisson ran through the train. I’d forgotten to feel excited, but all the feels came flooding in as Venice hit my eyeline. I was booked into the Danieli hotel, a few minutes’ walk from Piazza San Marco and I already knew I was going to love it. I hadn’t been to Venice before, and it was heart-achingly beautiful. The picturesque buildings in pale pink, cream, powder blue and egg-yolk yellow. Some crumbling, with huge cracks in the walls, others freshly painted with flowers at every window. Tiny tables thrown outside restaurants, lining the canals, as the gondolas glided alongside the walkways and paths. I jumped in a cab and took it all in, absorbing this new Italian friend. I could have walked, but the day had been exhausting enough already. Physically and emotionally. I wanted to get to my hotel room as fast as possible, unpack and get my head together, ahead of starting work.
The hotel reception was majestic. An Aladdin’s cave of polished brass and gleaming glass, full of glitz and glamour. A permanent spritz of Chanel Number 5 wafted through the air and the guests walked past with perfectly coiffed hair and immaculate nails. In comparison, I looked like a bedraggled Fraggle, my hair still full of chlorine from the pool, smelling of coconut oil. I needed to activate ‘work-Abi’ and speed back up. I pressed the bell on the reception desk and a tall, thin woman with curly blonde hair and black roots came rushing out to greet me.
‘Buonasera. Welcome to the Danieli,’ she said, adjusting her specs. ‘Are you checking in?’
‘Yes, please. Abigail Mason for three nights.’
She surveyed me from across the reception desk and smiled, her manicured nails flying over the keys. I looked down at my cotton sundress and flip-flops, feeling slightly uncomfortable. I was very much still in holiday mode, as opposed to working-with-film-stars mode.
‘Yes. Here you are,’ she said, clicking her tongue in concentration.
‘Abi!!!’ Phoebe appeared from the hotel bar and shot over to my side, increasing my street cred threefold. She was wearing a little black Prada number, with acid green shoes and a chunky gold bag, and very much looked the part.
‘Phoebs! You’re already here! I love your outfit,’ I said, giving her an exaggerated air-kiss.
‘Thanks.’ She smiled, looking me up and down. ‘I’m not so keen on yours,’ she whispered.
‘I’m not work-ready yet,’ I said, smoothing a hand over my frizzy hair.
‘You should always be work-ready,’ Phoebe tutted. ‘You know that. You never know who you’re going to bump into. Especially in a hotel like this. Dress for the job you want and all that.’
‘Room one-two-seven on the first floor,’ the receptionist said, pointing to the right. ‘The lifts are just around the corner.’
‘Lovely, thank you.’
‘Let’s get you sorted,’ Phoebe said, taking my key from the receptionist. I saw them exchange a look. As if I was on day release and needed supervision.