The Florentine Quilt

24. Theodora

24

THEODORA

TAORMINA

LARIMAR: Equilibrium, empowerment, guides the soul

A peritivo is in full swing at the coolest bar on the Corso Umberto . Rosie sashays off to join the owner, chatting about the best places for us to visit while we’re here. He appears quite taken with her; his pearly-toothed grin flashes like a neon sign as he tops up her margarita in the dark corner of the bar. She’s totally oblivious as always—her fair skin and wide-eyed beauty draw men like moths to a flame.

A cool breeze comes out of nowhere and I look up, glimpsing Tristan in the window. Our eyes meet through the glass but there’s a few seconds’ delay as I catch my breath and remember to smile. He leans in and greets me, placing a kiss on each cheek in the European way. I feel woozy, like I’m already three margaritas in.

‘ Theodora . How lovely to see you again.’ My name rolls off his tongue like melted chocolate. He smells good enough to eat too. Whoa ! I need to focus on the present and control my emotions. I’m trying not to get caught up in the romantic mysticism of Taormina and the temptation to escape as many have done before me. But I feel the pull.

‘ Rosie tells me your coperta is coming along nicely. I imagine you know she’s been assisting me to clear out my father’s library.’

‘ Yes , she told me about the terrific art reference books….’

‘ The first editions? Yes . And several from a collection in the early nineteen hundreds. It’s about time we had a good old clear out.’

I nod politely, swivelling the straw to avoid a wedge of lime teetering on the edge of the glass. When I look up, he further distracts me by stretching his neck, and I’m drawn to his pulse, beating in the hollow of his clavicle.

His tan has deepened since the last time I saw him. He looks well, and I mention it. Cerulean eyes blaze bright in reply; his smile is slow, and oh so sexy.

‘ I’ve spent quite some time on my yacht. Stephanie has suggested some great designs improvements. She’s a rare beauty—but of course, you’ll see her soon. Kit’s arriving in the morning and I’ve planned a sailing trip for us tomorrow. He’s finishing the cabinetry for our project in Cortona …’

I push away from the bar and take a deep breath. ‘ Thanks , but I’m no sailor.’

‘ The best vantage of Taormina is from the water.’

Closing my eyes, I think about the sea, the yacht. I can’t. I just can’t. ‘ Sorry , not possible, I’m afraid. I have something planned.’ I feign a smile. Where can I go? I think quickly. ‘ The artist I wanted to meet—his studio is open tomorrow.’

‘ What a shame. But if you’re already promised.’ His lips tremble, and I suspect he doesn’t believe me. He reaches for his drink.

Suddenly his phone rings, and he touches my shoulder. ‘ Excuse me, Theodora , I must take this.’

I sip my drink and wait, my feelings mixed and confused. Last night I spoke to Luke again. He surprised me by asking what I wanted most of all, and how I saw myself achieving it. So unlike him. It might be the first time he’s shown an interest in my plans. But I don’t think he expected such a detailed reply.

‘ My new creative direction will be a form of therapy, for children and others, the way it was for me. Working with Gran helped me move on after all that happened.’

‘ Theo , what a great idea. How very altruistic.’ At first he was full of praise. In fact, his enthusiasm echoed Rosie and Star’s .

‘ It’s time for me to pivot my business in the direction I need. It’s my life. We can’t go back to the way we were, Luke . To be honest, we’ve both changed, and I think it’s best we move on.’

‘ Well , you can’t knock a guy for trying. But we were good together, babe.’

My stomach flipped at the smile in his voice. I closed my eyes and saw his handsome face, in the days when we were young, with our lives ahead of us. I took a deep breath. ‘ Sure , once upon a time. But this is my future now, Luke . Let’s hold off with the sale until I get home? Then we can discuss figures again.’

He will see it’s best for both of us.

A growl of excitement rises within me, reigniting the sensation when speaking of my new passion. Star sent an email listing suppliers and artists to source. I couldn’t manage this project without her. She reminded me again of her screen-printing idea with quotes from Amelia’s diary. My ancestor’s life was not a happy one, but by helping others as she tried to do, I might make amends for the trials she faced in her life.

Tristan apologises when he returns and settles in with a smile. ‘ Tell me,’ he asks, ‘what have you seen of Taormina so far?’

But before I can answer, his expression changes. He reaches for my hand. ‘ Theodora ! I’m so sorry! What a fool I am! You must think me callous and insensitive. Your family…of course I understand your reluctance to sail!’ The centres of his eyes widen, searching mine for signs that I’m okay.

‘ I …y-yes…,’ I stammer, ‘…thank you…’

‘ Let me make it up to you now. It’s a beautiful evening and I’ll show you around before we lose the light.’

I wave to Rosie to signal our intentions. She salutes with her glass and floats towards us, her silk skirt twirling in a swathe of pink froth at her feet.

‘ Tristan .’ She enfolds him into a hug. There’s a perceptible change in their friendship; they’re far easier with one another than I recall. I envy the casual banter as they discuss the books she’s rehomed, and then crowd heads over his phone to view photos of his current project.

‘ I’m taking Theodora on a tour of the town. Will you join us?’ He signals the waiter with a nod.

I look at Rosie pointedly, hoping she’ll stay in the bar. What is wrong with me?

‘ Thanks , but Pietro’s invited me to join him for dinner. You don’t mind, do you, lovely? I’ll meet you back at the villa later.’ Don’t wait up , she mouths.

I sigh in relief.

We walk in silence past the first few shops and restaurants on the Corso . Music spills from their doors and the lights are bright and enticing. Tristan explains the history of the striking Moor’s head ceramics produced here, and then points out a villa he thinks might interest me, belonging to a rock star. We follow the winding pathway towards the theatre.

‘ Remember Florence , the Englishwoman I told you about, who married a local man? She left her gardens to the community, and they’ve become something of a tourist attraction.’

He takes my hand as we reach the Villa Comunale and leads me along paths of cypress, palm and pine trees to a stone wall overlooking the beach. Shimmering lights stretch out before us, outlined in gold and silver and red as a fine cloud of smoke steams from Mount Etna and rises above Taormina . Tristan names the villages along the coastline and our hands remains clasped. I savour the warmth.

‘ The gardens are quite different, much smaller now. Florence’s original land holdings extended to Isola Bella . She spent much time alone there and created a private paradise of orange and olive groves and tropical plants.’

‘ It’s a remarkable view from here to the island. I can see the appeal.’

We stroll towards the ornamental Victorian Follies she commissioned, accompanied by a rising cacophony of cicadas. The structures emerge from the shadows like eerie beehives or oversized bird feeders.

‘ Like many who chose sanctuary in Taormina , Florence Trevelyan was a woman of mystery. There are, of course, salacious rumours about the reason for her exile.’

My stomach clenches. Whatever secrets Florence was hiding, or hiding from, are embodied in the soil beneath us. Her past is safe here. ‘ Another Trevelyan .’

‘ Yes , from the northern branch... an adventurous family.’

The moon is rising and shines a beam of light over the calm waters. I lick my lips and taste the salt in its kiss as the breeze brushes my face. Jazz music plays in the background, adding a touch of nostalgia to the mood.

‘ It’s truly beautiful here, Tristan . Thank you for showing me.’ He stares at my mouth, then into my eyes. My heartbeat quickens and echoes in my ears.

‘ Yes …beautiful.’

I long for him to say more but I’m afraid to break the spell. Time stands still….

‘ Theodora … I’ve tried to fight it, but even being near you drives me crazy. I’m out of my depth…and confused?—’

‘ Confused ?’ My chest tightens. ‘ About what?’

Laughter below on the beach lightens the tension. But his spiced ginger scent mingles with the heat of his body in the evening air, drawing me closer. I can’t breathe.

‘ About you, Theodora . One minute I think you might be interested, and the next, I hear you’re going home to your ex.’ He steps back and raises a hand to his head. ‘ The trouble is, I haven’t stopped thinking about you since we met.’

His words float around me and sing in my ears. He feels it too. The voice of reason in my head is at war with my body’s attraction. But I’m weak with longing; the closer I am to him, the harder he is to resist.

‘ I hoped you might stay, but if you’ve made your decision, I’ll accept it?—’

I take a step back and lift my face to his. ‘ My ex, Luke …well, it’s complicated. We have a business interest together. But no, I’d never get back with him. I’m totally done?—’

‘ I can’t imagine why he was fool enough to give you up in the first place.’ A frown wrinkles his brows.

I have to make him understand. ‘ During my time with the quilt—well, it’s made me realise how important it is to leave a legacy. I don’t have—and won’t have family—so my business, what I create, is everything to me….’

‘ Will work be enough to fulfil your needs? What about what you want, Theodora — for you?’

I close my eyes as the rhythmic lap of the sea breaks against the shore below us. ‘ Creativity is important to me; it’s relationships that are complicated.’

‘ What about love?’ Tristan’s voice grows husky and rumbles through my body. ‘ You deserve to be loved and appreciated for every part of who you are. By someone who sees your strength and wisdom—the sensitivity you show those around you. Who you really are.’

Words escape me.

Wind sweeps the path and leaves swirl through the air towards the coastline. Who are you, Theodora ?

It’s as though I’m carried away in an out of body experience, but my mind is steady and sure. Calm envelops me, overriding my better judgement.

‘ My life is complicated too, Theodora ; there are demands on both of us.’ His voice is thick with emotion as he brushes a curl from my face. ‘ But I’ve felt a connection to you since the beginning.’

I reach for his hand and a shock of heat rushes through my body and spikes all the way to my groin.

‘ If I could, I would show you what it is to be loved.’ He rubs his thumb across my bottom lip, and I gasp. ‘ Do you know how much I want you?’ His touch sets my heartbeat skipping.

‘ I want you too…’

I’m afraid I’ve only spoken the words in my thoughts, but his lips tease mine, like the brush of a feather. Need deepens and the pressure of his kiss takes my breath away—like the first time. With my palms flat against his chest I lean closer; his body is hot beneath his linen shirt. I run my hands across his shoulders to the bare skin at the base of his neck and the touch sears my fingertips.

Then he lifts his lips from mine, and I’m jolted to reality.

‘ This is wrong when I can’t promise you anything,’ his whisper tickles my ear. ‘ It’s madness…’

All I want is to be with him. To hold him, to feel him deep inside me. Reason escapes me.

‘ Stop , Tristan . No excuses or explanations. Let’s have this one night….’ I’ve never felt longing so great, or been so brazen, so desperate to be loved.

His eyes darken with desire. ‘ Are you sure?’

In answer, I run my tongue across his lips. When he opens his mouth and takes mine, my body quivers. I inhale his catch of breath, and our lips and tongues explore. I draw his bottom lip between my teeth.

‘ Never surer. But not here…’

His hand holds mine tightly, and he leads me through the gardens as though he fears I’ll change my mind. Down a snaking lane and through a narrow archway we hurry, until we reach a rose-coloured building with shutters half closed.

Inside , we take the stairs to a room lit by the reflections of a crystal chandelier with prisms that glitters in the moonlight. I don’t recall shedding my dress or stripping his shirt from his jeans. I only know his eyes never leave mine as he carries me naked to his bed and loves me with his body like it’s our last day on earth.

A s dawn breaks, I wake, shivering with dread. Fragments of a dream show a flailing boat in a wild sea. I feel nauseated.

I bite my lip at the sight of my cream lace bra on the seat of a velvet armchair. Sunlight stretches through the bedroom window in a fine white band and rests on a faded patch of one arm. It’s like the chair I curled up in on the day that marked my new life with Gran . The day I returned from the hospital, the sole member of my family to survive.

Since Cornwall , I’ve become more aware of the unusual sensations I experience. With an insight into Amelia’s psychic ability, it’s hard to deny I resemble her in some way. What if I sense danger too?

Tristan is sleeping soundly as the morning light peeps through the shutters. Dark lashes are feathered on his sun-kissed cheeks, and a hand rests across his naked chest. He looks so peaceful in repose that I wish I could sit and stare at him all day. Instead , I dress in silence and tiptoe from his room and out the door. It’s for the best.

One night, we agreed. But I should never have slept with him. It makes it even harder to leave. This was a terrible error of judgement—the strength of the cocktails, the scent of the passion in the air and the heat of romance in Taormina’s evening breeze. An intoxicating combination. Overcome by need, by lust, I let physical attraction get under my guard. There’s no future in this. No commitment from either of us. Tristan told me so. And I … I just can’t do this now.

I’d rather not face Rosie to explain my movements, so I stop at the Bam Bar to delay my return. But I end up pushing the staple Sicilian breakfast of brioche dipped in lemon granita around my plate, and the bitter taste of espresso sticks in my throat like glue. I linger at an outside table as tourists wander the street, oblivious to my angst. While they enjoy the day’s sojourn, the sense of dread in me is so strong, I can’t shake it.

My sisters’ faces flash like warning signals in my head. Tension builds in my lungs. It’s as though my words, my feelings, my past are trapped inside me and can’t escape. What’s the matter with me? I’m afraid of what will happen, or what I might see if I try to understand it.

When I’m sure Rosie and the others will be on the yacht, I return to the villa. Then I sit cross-legged under the old lemon tree in the garden and close my eyes. The zesty scent of fragrant buds slows my racing thoughts momentarily. I can’t promise any man a relationship when I have so much to address, when there is so much upheaval in my life. And why covet dreams of a man who is neither free nor willing to commit to me? I’m still suffering from nightmares and am no closer to resolving my past. No . I do not need a relationship drama in my life as well.

My feelings of trepidation move to the group out on the water. To how Tristan will face his own troubles with Stephanie . They haven’t formally announced their engagement; our actions last night prove he and I feel more for each other than we can explain. But I can’t deal with it now. I have to be away from here.

I pack my bag and leave a note for Rosie telling her I’m needed back in Florence immediately. Then I call for a taxi to take me to the airport and switch off my phone.