Chapter 22
Enthusiasm was supposed to be contagious, but apparently, Toni had developed immunity.
‘I’m so thrilled there’s a turtle nest on our wedding beach. Of course we won’t go anywhere near it. It’s so special, like nature celebrating with us – a symbol of new life and love!’
The groom, Nathaniel Mason, spoke in emphasis, punctuating everything he said with his wide grin and a small display of affection for his fiancée, Alison.
Toni was certain it was all very promising for their future together, but all the ‘symbolism’ and ‘life and love’ was giving her a headache.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d drunk some water and she was about two hours past her usual dinner time.
She’d spent the day sifting through supplies for the wedding favours, place cards, fabric decorations – and also creating ‘bride’ and ‘groom’ mountain biking helmets for the wedding party’s excursion into the hills tomorrow.
Keeping busy at least had stopped her mind from wandering to everything that had happened over the past week, although when Donatella had mentioned that Gabri had been and gone, the twinge of disappointment hadn’t been welcome.
‘Do you think they’ll hatch while we’re here? During the ceremony?’ the bride asked drily. Alison seemed a little more down-to-earth, planning for the photos and the fun rather than the sentimentality. Nathaniel probably needed it.
‘Turtles usually hatch at night,’ Toni answered, using the new-found knowledge she’d gained from spending half an hour frantically researching the Loggerhead sea turtle that inhabited these waters. ‘Since we’ve planned the wedding for sunset, it’s extremely unlikely.’
Donatella had spoken to the municipality to ensure there would be no negative press about holding a wedding near a turtle nest, but they were still waiting for a final answer.
‘Perhaps a delicate turtle theme in your decorations could include this wonderful natural phenomenon in your joyous occasion,’ Donatella suggested with a less-than-delicate glance at Toni. ‘The turtle is so suggestive.’
‘Suggestive of what?’ Alison asked with a snort.
‘She means emotive, evocative,’ Toni explained hurriedly, refusing to think about the moment when she’d looked it up in an online dictionary while in bed with Gabri, teasing him about his mistake. ‘But haven’t we—?’ She fell silent at Donatella’s pointed look.
‘I’d love that, if we can include some turtles in the decorations – if it’s not too late,’ Nathaniel said.
Toni knew exactly what Sophie would do in this case: rush out and find some turtles. If she could, Sophie would find a way to make the turtles hatch on demand.
Her phone rang – an unknown Italian number. She stepped away from Donatella and the bridal couple with a quiet apology and answered the call.
‘Ciao, Toni. It’s Cristina. From Procchio beach – you remember?’
Of course Toni remembered the mortifying moment she’d asked Gabri’s sort of ex to pretend to be her friend so she didn’t have to admit the truth to her mother. She’d hoped never to see Cristina again – for a variety of reasons.
‘Gabri asked me to give you a call.’
‘He did?’
‘About the turtle nest at Innamorata. I am a volunteer with the environmental group. We have a webcam on the nest now. I understand there is a wedding taking place there this week and I should come and help you decide where to place the ceremony to ensure nothing is disturbed?’
‘That would be great – as soon as you can come by. The wedding is on Friday.’
By the time she’d arranged to meet Cristina the next day and ended the call, Alison and Nathaniel were ready to head to the restaurant for dinner and Donatella told her to go with a gentle squeeze to her shoulder.
‘We can talk more tomorrow, but I showed them a local artist who makes turtle ornaments, not expensive, and they like the idea of putting them on the tables. Gabri will be able to add something to the arch and voila – we have our light turtle theme. Everyone is happy.’
‘That sounds good.’
‘Go. Your son will want to see you.’
Donatella’s assumption that Cilli would want to see her turned out to be an understatement. He leaped out of his chair and wrapped his arms around her in a choking squeeze when she returned to their little cabin.
‘I’m sorry I’m late, sweetie.’ She pressed a kiss to the top of his head.
‘It’s all right. I was doing a crossword with Granny.’
Daphne smiled from where she was wiping her hands on a tea towel. ‘This apartment is just perfect, Tone. There’s a mini-market at reception and we found everything we needed for Cilli’s favourite tuna pasta, since even he can’t eat pizza every day for a week.’
‘I could try!’ he piped up from where he’d returned to analysing the grid of words in Daphne’s magazine.
‘How’s it all going?’ Daphne asked with a concerned look as she dished out a plate of pasta that looked like everything good in the world right now.
‘Okay – I think. There’s just a lot to prepare for a wedding on the beach.’
‘Especially since you can’t disturb the turtle nest,’ Cillian added.
Toni blinked at him in surprise. ‘Oh, you saw it on the beach today.’
‘Yep,’ was all he said in reply.
‘Well, we do have to be very careful of the nest. The bride and groom seem to be happy with the development – baby turtles on the lovers’ beach,’ she continued, speaking to Daphne in between mouthfuls.
Cillian looked up, his brow furrowed. ‘But it’s not really a very nice place. Maria threw herself into the sea and died because they killed Lorenzo.’
Toni stopped eating, looking between Cilli and Daphne in confusion. ‘What’s this?’
‘The pirates,’ he explained earnestly. ‘They took Lorenzo and then Maria was so sad, she threw herself into the sea. That’s why this is called the lovers’ beach. Gabriele told me.’
Goosebumps whooshed to Toni’s hairline at the sound of his full name. ‘Who?’ she asked cautiously.
‘That’s right!’ Daphne said emphatically as she took the remaining seat at the table. ‘There was a strange man on the beach, talking to Cillian. He seemed harmless, but he did go very quickly once I confronted him.’
The lump in Toni’s throat threatened to spoil her hard-earned dinner. ‘He approached you?’ she asked Cillian.
‘I was digging near the nest,’ he said with a grimace. ‘I thought I was in trouble, but then he told me about the eggs; there could be a hundred down there. Did you know the mamma turtles return to the same beach where they were born?’
She could imagine Gabri explaining it with his light Italian lilt, calling them ‘mamma’ turtles.
He’d said he didn’t like children, but he’d apparently taken the time to explain to Cillian about the life cycle of the Loggerhead turtle.
Or were there any number of men called Gabriele hanging around the lovers’ beach?
‘Then he told me about the pirates from the Middle Ages, about Maria and Lorenzo.’
‘You had quite a conversation. Did he say what he was doing at the beach?’
Cilli just shrugged in reply.
‘Did he know your name?’
‘I’m so sorry, I left him outside the toilets—’ Daphne began, but Toni cut her off with a shake of her head.
‘I told him my name,’ Cillian answered, forcing Toni to stifle her own grimace. ‘Right after I asked his, as we were saying goodbye. He said I wasn’t in any trouble.’
Toni fluffed his hair and gave him a squeeze before picking up her fork and making her best effort to pretend nothing was amiss.
‘Of course you’re not in any trouble. I’m sure it’s nothing,’ she reassured her mother, whose worries were obviously racing off in the wrong direction.
‘I just thought it might be someone connected to the hotel. What did he look like?’
Cillian gave another shrug. ‘He was a grown-up.’
‘About your age – and your height. Dark hair, blue eyes,’ Daphne answered in more detail. ‘Typically handsome Italian, I suppose.’
As though Toni had had any doubt. She only wished she weren’t so curious about what he and Cillian had thought of each other – why Gabri had taken so much time with him.
‘Funny, his name was Gabriele. I thought that was a woman’s name – like your friend! I suppose she’s Gabriella.’
Toni couldn’t bring herself to share Daphne’s laugh. ‘Yes, very funny,’ she said instead.
She made a note to look up the wind forecast as she made her way to the beach the following morning. The stiff breeze was still blowing in, strong enough that everything would require anchoring for the ceremony. It wasn’t the gentle maestrale she remembered from Procchio.
When she reached the cordoned-off stretch of sand, Cristina was already waiting for her with a bright smile and a polite kiss to her cheek.
‘I’m so glad I can help.’ She appeared sincere so Toni forced her lingering embarrassment from her mind.
‘This spot is where we’ve held weddings in the past,’ Toni explained, gesturing to an even portion of sand, set apart from the rows of umbrellas.
‘With the guests sitting in rows here and the wedding arch near the sea. We already know the last rows of chairs will come too close here, but we have some alternative suggestions that I want to run past you.’
Toni took notes on her tablet as they formulated a plan, then checked her watch.
She had some turtle ornaments to buy and then she wanted to drop in on Gabri to see his progress with the flowers – as well as asking him what on earth he was thinking, spinning local legends to her son.
She needed to ignore the little thrill that came with the prospect of seeing him for the first time in two days.
‘I hope you’ve had a nice time on the island?’
Toni glanced up to find Cristina watching her with a smile.
‘With Gabri?’
‘We’re friends,’ she insisted. ‘Thank you – again – for the other day,’ she continued, when the silence felt too awkward.
She was interrupted by a shout of, ‘Mum!’ as Cillian came running along the sand, his swimming shorts dripping and his hair askew.
She was thankful to see he was wearing his beach shoes.
‘You should see the beach around there!’ he continued, his face alight with enthusiasm.
‘There are some old mining buildings and you can swim to the islands and climb on the rocks.’
Cristina blinked in surprise to see the boy as Daphne followed, picking her way more carefully along the red dirt path around the headland. Toni wasn’t quite quick enough to avert what happened next.
‘Oh, hello Gabri. We do get to meet you. How lovely!’ Daphne gushed. ‘Thank you so much for looking after our Toni for the week. She had such a wonderful time at your house.’
‘My… Yes, my house.’ Cristina shot Toni an amused look. ‘We did so many girly things – drank wine, at-home facials, watched classic Italian romantic comedies. She’s in love with Raoul Bova now.’
Toni wasn’t sure whether to laugh or hold her head in her hands. ‘Gabri is super busy, Mum,’ she said, hoping her attempt to end the conversation wasn’t too obvious, ‘what with the wedding in two days.’
‘Gosh, yes! All those flowers to prepare. It must be a huge job on your own,’ Daphne said.
‘Yes, in fact I have an assistant who you might see around at the wedding, because I have so many jobs to do,’ Cristina continued, ignoring Toni’s alarmed look. ‘He’s a man, very handsome, very charming. Toni met him and they went very well together.’
Toni groaned inwardly. She wouldn’t have been surprised if Cristina had punctuated her statement with a wink, but she thankfully left it there.
‘Lovely to meet you, Mrs… Toni’s mother, but I have to get back to my many, many flowers. Have a wonderful time on the island.’
‘Well,’ Daphne began as her gaze followed Cristina’s progress back in the direction of the car park.
‘I didn’t imagine she’d be so stylish. What did you…
?’ She wisely didn’t finish that sentence, although it was too late for Toni to miss the hint that she must have little in common with a stylish Italian woman. ‘Who is Raoul Bova?’
Toni had no idea, but now she’d have to spend twenty minutes reading the Wikipedia summaries of some Italian romcoms, which was time she didn’t have. ‘Look him up,’ she managed in reply. ‘I have to go to the other side of the island for some errands. Are you two okay here with your new beach?’
‘The other side of the island?’ Cillian repeated eagerly. ‘What’s it like?’
She thought of the smooth rocks on the coast at Sant’Andrea and even though she was ready to pull out her hair from all the balls she was juggling, and she now had even more reason to keep Cilli and her mum as far away from Gabri as possible, there was only one thing she could say to her son: ‘It’s beautiful. Do you want to come see?’