Chapter Ten #2
Daisy sighed dramatically. ‘I suppose. But I don’t see why I can’t just stay here on my own. I’m not a child.’
‘But you’re not an adult either. Plus, we all have to do things we don’t want to do at times,’ said Nick. ‘Isn’t that right, Maddie?’
Luckily I’d just swallowed my mouthful of pizza this time and didn’t have the awkward chew-watch thing to deal with.
‘Absolutely,’ I said, meaning it emphatically.
I didn’t add that, lately, I seemed to be doing things I didn’t particularly want to do approximately ninety per cent of the time.
Nick and I hung back a little as we walked the five minutes back to the hotel. He laced his fingers through mine.
‘It’s nice to see you’ve chilled out. You’re not thinking about work anymore, are you?’ he said.
‘Barely,’ I replied.
Did I really have the confidence to say no to Tim?
It felt like bad things would happen if I didn’t do what he wanted, but then rationally I knew that he’d just moan a bit and then probably forget about it.
But he’d be disappointed – I thought that was what I found hard.
Disappointing people. And yet I did anyway, probably, without trying half the time.
I paused to look in the window of one of the many boutiques along the street. They certainly loved their fashion in Florence. This particular display had dresses suspended from the ceiling, like pieces of art.
‘I’m a bit worried about this tour tomorrow. I don’t know anything about wine, as you’ve probably worked out by now,’ I admitted.
‘The fact you always buy Australian kind of gave it away,’ said Nick.
I looked at him, genuinely confused. ‘What’s wrong with Australian wine?’
He reached out and ruffled my hair. ‘Oh Madeleine. You have a lot to learn.’
I pushed his hand away. ‘Please don’t be condescending,’ I said.
He made a little huffing sound. I’d heard him do it before, when he was on the phone to a colleague usually, or sometimes to Daisy. But he’d never done it to me. ‘I was joking, Maddie.’
Joke or not, it had annoyed me and I was glad I’d said something.
It wasn’t a huge thing, but it felt huge to me, because I was usually so busy trying to please Nick that I tended to overlook the things he occasionally did to upset me.
Like inviting people round without warning me first and cancelling dinner plans at the last minute because something had come up at work.
It was normal to annoy each other, surely.
And yet, I couldn’t quite get rid of the underlying feeling that I had to be on my best behaviour for him. Or else what? I wondered.
We carried on walking, Nick a few steps ahead.
I twirled my engagement ring around on my finger, suddenly finding it even more difficult than usual to imagine my wedding day.
I’d spent a lot of my adolescence dreaming about what my special day might look like.
How handsome and besotted by me my husband would be, how voluminous my dress.
Who I’d have as my bridesmaids (this had changed many times over the years depending on who was currently my best friend – I was going to ask Lou and Daisy, but hadn’t quite got round to it).
But what I used to think about most was what my in-laws would be like.
I’d pictured this couple, still in love after many years together.
The mum loved baking and the dad loved gardening and they both loved their son and therefore, by extension, his new bride.
In my daydreams they became like second parents to me.
That is, parents who actually noticed I was there and who were genuinely interested in getting to know me.
They wouldn’t be judgemental or unkind, and they would think me extremely funny and interesting.
And while I was fully aware that this was just a fantasy, that things rarely worked out like this for anyone, Rosamund and Peter were far from the second parents I’d dreamed of and this dynamic – Nick and Daisy and Sophia – was categorically not how I’d imagined it.
‘You don’t think I’ll make too much of a fool of myself on the vineyard tour, do you?’ I asked, feeling quite vulnerable, suddenly.
For the most part, I didn’t have a problem with owning my lack of knowledge – I couldn’t be an expert on everything, could I, nobody could (although this was probably news to the Leveson-Gower family).
And at least I was getting out there and making an effort to learn.
But there was a limit to how many sneery looks I could take.
And Daisy was right – six hours sounded LONG!
‘How do you mean?’ asked Nick.
‘Well. Do they ask you things? About wine? Stuff I should know the answers to?’
‘It’s not a quiz. They tell you about their wines.’
I relaxed a bit.
‘So it’s not like they give you a glass of wine and you have to say that it’s got notes of this, or hints of that?’
‘I mean, I don’t think so. But so what if it is? You can tell if it tastes like strawberries or apples or whatever, can’t you?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Your palate’s not that underdeveloped.’
‘But all wine tastes pretty much the same to me,’ I protested.
‘Ah. Hence the Yellow Tail Shiraz.’
I threw him a look. Now I could never buy Yellow Tail Shiraz again. Or maybe I would, because I honestly couldn’t see what the problem was with it. I also thought that if Nick was harbouring these secret, snooty opinions about Australian wines, what else was he harbouring opinions on?
‘I’ve got that same feeling I had the night before my driving test,’ I said.
Nick smiled at me. ‘Nobody’s testing you. And I’ll be there. If it seems like you’re struggling – although I don’t think for a second you will be – I’ll step in and change the subject or something.’
I looked at him gratefully as we turned the corner into Via Tornabuoni. In the light from the street lamps, it looked all glowy and shiny and perfect, like a movie set.
‘Promise you won’t leave my side, not for a second?’ I said to him.
He swooped down and kissed me on top of my head. ‘Promise,’ he said. ‘Now let’s catch the others up.’
Rosamund and Sophia were just in front of us. Rosamund was clutching hold of Sophia’s arm and her feet were sort of criss-crossing over each other.
‘Is your mum drunk?’ I whispered to Nick.
‘Looks like it,’ he said, grimacing.
We quickened our pace. As we were just about to fall into step beside them, I tuned into their conversation.
Sophia’s voice was easy to hear, haughty and high-pitched and probably travelled for miles.
Rosamund’s was softer. Her enunciation was not as clear as it usually was, but even so, I could just about make out what she was saying.
‘Oh, Sophia, I wish you and Nick were still together. Do you ever think about it? Getting back with him?’
Sophia laughed lightly. ‘He’s with Maddie now, Rosamund.’
Rosamund sighed. ‘She’s a sweet girl. But she’s not a patch on you.’
‘We made a good team, Nick and I, didn’t we?’ snickered Sophia.
‘You did, darling. You did,’ said Rosamund with passion.
I stopped, right there in the street, glancing at Nick to see if he’d heard, too, but if he had, he was pretending not to.
‘Mummy, take it easy on the wine when we get to the bar, yes?’ he called.
Rosamund spun around on her kitten heels. ‘Darling! I wondered where you’d got to.’
Sophia gave me a look and I held her gaze.
She knew I’d heard, and I wasn’t going to let her off the hook by pretending I hadn’t.
She looked away first, which gave me some small triumph.
But the fact was, my suspicions had been confirmed – in Rosamund’s eyes, I was never going to be good enough for Nick, or a suitable replacement for the woman he’d married first.