Chapter Eighteen
I waited with Daisy in the courtyard of the Uffizi Gallery.
It was a stunning building – two long corridors, three stories high, supported by a series of marble pillars.
Then, at the end, overlooking the Arno, a shorter series of archways and corridors connecting both sides.
And on the top, I noticed it now, the Vasari corridor Aidan had told me about.
I let myself imagine Cosimo de’ Medici striding through it on his way to work in fifteen hundred and something, avoiding the minions swarming the streets below.
Daisy was in her own little world and had had her earphones in with her music on full-blast since we’d left the hotel.
On the walk here – back across the Piazza della Signoria – I’d asked her what she was listening to and she’d pretended not to hear me.
Something told me things were not going to go smoothly this morning.
I sort of hoped that Aidan wasn’t serious about turning up now, too.
And then at the same time, after the night I’d had with Nick, when we’d barely spoken and I realised I’d started to develop a pathological hatred of Sophia, it felt like the grounding, familiar presence of somebody who didn’t find me intensely annoying (Aidan) might be just what I needed.
‘You are here for the Uffizi tour?’ asked an attractive, blonde-haired Italian woman in her late-thirties.
‘Yes, that’s right,’ I said, thrusting the booking voucher they’d given me at the hotel into her hands.
‘Very good,’ she said, checking something off her list. ‘You are Madeleine, yes? And you are Daisy?’
I nudged Daisy, who reluctantly took her earbuds out.
‘I am Francesca and I will be your guide today,’ said the Italian.
Aidan chose that moment to appear, striding across the cobbled courtyard like Mr Darcy striding out of a lake. Even Daisy noticed him.
‘There’s that guy,’ she said. ‘From the wine-tasting tour.’
‘Oh yes,’ I said, feigning surprise.
‘Hope I’m not late,’ he said, coming to a stop next to us, giving Francesca one of his smiles. ‘You must be our guide for the morning.’
To be fair to her, she didn’t seem fazed by him.
I decided to channel this composed, earthy Italian woman who seemed like the sort of person who wouldn’t put up with crap in a relationship.
It had dawned on me last night that perhaps this wasn’t how things had to be – perhaps I didn’t have to feel the way Nick’s family made me feel, and even Nick, sometimes.
And my parents. And Tim at work. Perhaps there were people out there who would respect me.
Perhaps I could feel good about myself regardless.
It felt like Francesca, whatever her situation, probably already felt that.
‘And you are Aidan, yes?’ she said.
‘Yes,’ he confirmed.
‘Do I really have to come on this tour?’ said Daisy.
‘Yes, you do, because your dad booked us on it,’ I replied. ‘Anyway, it’ll be fun.’
‘This isn’t my idea of fun,’ she remarked.
‘You do not like art?’ said Francesca, surprised.
Daisy shrugged. ‘I do. But I like shopping more.’
‘But shopping you can do any time, anywhere,’ commented Aidan. ‘It’s not every day you’re standing in the courtyard of the Uffizi Gallery.’
‘I’m just not into it,’ shrugged Daisy. ‘And I don’t see why I should be forced to spend two hours of my life doing something that I don’t want to do.’
‘I did suggest you said all this to your dad,’ I pointed out.
Because there wasn’t much I could do about it now, was there, and, to be honest, it would have been much nicer for me to have come on my own if she was going to moan the entire time.
I didn’t know why Nick had insisted that she come, the poor girl seemed to have been forced to do things she didn’t want to do the entire trip.
‘Can’t I go shopping and meet you back here after?’ she asked, looking at me hopefully.
‘Daisy, I’m responsible for you. I can hardly let you go wandering off on your own, can I?’
‘But I go out on my own all the time in London. What’s the difference?’
Francesca gave me a sympathetic look. ‘Here,’ she said, pulling several headsets out of her bag. ‘While you decide, you can put these on. Then you can hear me wherever you are. It is very busy in there and it can be hard to hear me without.’
Aidan and I each took a headset, but Daisy didn’t even make a move to take one.
‘You could call Dad and ask him?’ suggested Daisy.
‘How old are you, Daisy?’ asked Aidan, who already had his headset on.
‘Fourteen, nearly fifteen.’
‘Wow. So you like fashion, do you?’
‘Yes,’ she said, as though she was sussing him out. ‘I want to be a fashion designer, actually.’
‘Really?’ said Aidan. ‘Florence must be heaven for you, then, with all these shops. Have you checked out the Gucci Garden, I hear it’s very good?’
‘We went there the day before yesterday. It was amazing. I got this bag,’ she said, showing Aidan the leather shoulder bag that Nick had treated her to.
‘Beautiful,’ he said. ‘Can I touch it?’
Daisy shrugged. ‘Sure.’
Aidan stroked his hand across the bright yellow leather. ‘So soft!’ he said.
I smiled, despite myself. Aidan did have a way of making people feel noticed.
‘I didn’t know bags were your thing,’ I said.
Aidan shrugged. ‘I appreciate fine goods when I see them, that’s all.’
Only then did I realise that I’d been overfamiliar. If Aidan and I were the strangers we were supposed to be, it would have been a very odd thing to say. How would I know what he was or wasn’t into?
Luckily, Daisy didn’t seem to have noticed. She just appeared to be over the moon that somebody was actually listening to her. Aidan had a knack for doing that. When he spoke to you, you had his full attention.
‘Fine, I’ll call your dad,’ I said, taking my phone out of my bag and getting in a massive tangle with the earphones.
I dialled Nick’s number, mouthing a ‘sorry’ at Francesca, who thankfully was good-natured about it, waving away my apology with a wry smile.
Nick didn’t pick up, of course. He never seemed to, lately. I left him a message.
‘Nick it’s me. I’m with Daisy at the Uffizi. She really doesn’t want to go in and says she’d prefer to go for a walk around the shops instead. Is that all right? She says she’s allowed to go off on her own in London? Call me back asap because this is holding everybody up.’
I ended the call.
Daisy looked at me expectantly. ‘Well? Can I go?’
‘I haven’t got permission from your dad yet, have I?’
‘I can call my mum, let her know,’ said Daisy. She twirled her own phone around in her hand. ‘She won’t mind, honestly.’
I didn’t know what to do. Making decisions about what other people’s children were allowed to do was not my forte.
‘Florence is a very safe city,’ said Aidan. ‘There’s hardly any crime, isn’t that right, Francesca?’
‘Yes,’ Francesca agreed enthusiastically. ‘I have teenagers myself and they come here alone and sit at a café or meet their friends.’
‘They do?’ I said, feeling better about it all.
‘Of course,’ said Francesca.
I looked at Daisy.
‘And you swear you’ll call your mum, right away, to tell her where you are and where you’re planning to go?’
‘I promise,’ said Daisy, brighter now she knew she’d pretty much got her own way.
I was still worried, but the evidence suggested it would all be fine. If Nick had answered his phone, I’d know for sure, but he hadn’t, so I had to work out what to do myself.
‘You’d have to meet us back here. Right by this statue of Donatello. At eleven thirty sharp.’
‘Sure,’ said Daisy. ‘Back here in two hours. Got it.’
‘And don’t go too far. Stick to the busy areas. The main streets. Don’t wander off down any quiet alleyways or anything.’
Aidan gave me an empathetic smile.
‘Promise,’ said Daisy, already backing away.
My stomach swirled as I watched her walk away. I really, really hoped I was doing the right thing.