Chapter 5
NICK
What the hell was I thinking? As soon as I realised True North’s error, I should have been on the next ferry to Naples, then a flight to Iceland, instead of waiting for them to fix this. Who runs an international tour company without a twenty-four-hour hotline?
Pip’s going to be devastated.
The news instantly sobers me and, while I mull over how to break it to Pippa, Delaney grills Vittorio on the contingencies.
‘Surely we can catch a ferry to the mainland before the ash cloud descends?’ she asks – her third variation of the same question.
‘No, signorina, is not possible – I tell you,’ Vittorio counters.
I feel for him. She’s not taking no for an answer and he’s only the messenger.
Apparently, the ferry companies and the harbour master are prioritising day-trippers.
If they don’t evacuate in the next few hours, there won’t be enough accommodation for everyone, and people will be forced to camp out. On the streets. Under an ash cloud.
Delaney goes to speak, but Vittorio lifts a hand. ‘Please, signorina.’ It’s the plea of a weary man – and soon to be a very busy one – and Delaney finally backs down.
Vittorio slips out the door, then it’s just the two of us. She looks at me, chewing on her lower lip, her brow knitted.
‘That’s a look of determination,’ I say.
She releases her lip. ‘There must be something we can do.’
She crosses to the balcony doors and goes outside. I go with her and we stand at the railing, looking down at the marina. Delaney groans at the streams of people filing onto the ferries.
‘Organised chaos,’ I say.
‘Or chaotic chaos,’ she retorts. I glance over and she meets my eye. ‘I’m going down there,’ she declares, abruptly turning and going back inside.
I rush after her.
‘You’re going to the marina?’
‘Yes,’ she says, her head buried in an enormous handbag.
‘This is what I do. Stuff like this happens all the time on location. Well, maybe not a volcano erupting,’ she concedes, ‘but a lot of my job is handling unforeseen issues. Ah, thank god.’ She shows me her passport, and I nod – always good to know where your passport is – then shoves it deep inside the handbag.
‘I figure I’ll leave my luggage here. I can always send for it when everything opens back up.’ She looks around as if she’s missing something.
‘Delaney.’
‘Mmm?’
‘Delaney.’
She stops looking. ‘You coming?’ she asks, her eyes wide.
‘To the marina? No.’
‘But what if it’s our only chance to get off Capri? We could be stuck here for weeks.’
A slight exaggeration, which I don’t mention.
‘You heard what Vittorio said – they’re prioritising people with day-trip tickets,’ I say. ‘I don’t have one and my guess is neither do you.’
‘Ah, yes,’ she says with a confident smirk, ‘but I’m an incredible negotiator. If anyone can get us on a ferry out of here, it’s me. I once convinced the mayor of Medellín to appear in our movie – as himself. You know how much sweet-talking that took?’
‘I can only imagine.’
What I can’t imagine is the harbour master wanting tickets to the next premiere at Leicester Square – or whatever Delaney plans to use as leverage.
But if that glint in Delaney’s eye’s anything to go by, she’s on a mission and I’d better stay out of her way.
Besides, if she does get on a ferry, I’ll have the place to myself.
‘You don’t believe I can do it,’ she says, the smirk widening as if she’s accepting a challenge.
‘No, no, it’s not that. It’s just… Vittorio seems like the sort of bloke who would help us if he could. If it was a matter of him calling in a favour, he would’ve done that.’
‘Hmm, maybe.’ She slips the straps of her handbag onto her shoulder. ‘Last chance,’ she says, with a hopeful tilt of her head.
‘You go. And good luck.’
She steps closer, her hand extended. ‘Nice to have met you, other Nicholas James.’
I shake her hand. It’s tiny and my meaty paw swallows it completely. ‘And you, Delaney. I hope things work out with your Nicholas.’
Something flashes behind her eyes, and her smile falters for a fraction of a second before returning full force.
‘Thanks. See ya ’round.’
‘Bye.’
I watch her go, releasing a long, slow breath when the door shuts behind her.
She’ll either be back in half an hour or gone for good.
Most likely, it’s the former but it really would be nice to have this place to myself, even if I’m forced to stay inside.
It’s been ages since I had a proper break.
People think being on location is glamorous, but the truth is I’m either on set shooting or poring over plans for the next day’s stunt.
There’s never any time to see the sights, and the days of late-night, boozy cast and crew parties were over long before I came onto the scene.
I stoop to unzip my duffel, digging around for the Switch I’ve been carrying with me for months. It was optimistic to take it to Norway – I only played a few times – but I’m glad I have it now, especially under the circumstances.
But I really should phone Pippa first.
A stifling weight descends and I stand perfectly still, my gaze blurring.
I don’t want to phone her.
The admission is like taking a gut punch – and I should know.
But why don’t I? Besides the obvious – that our trip’s completely ruined and I’ll have to console her – there’s another reason I can’t quite put my finger on.
I plop onto the sofa, replaying my earlier conversation with Delaney – the part about relationships and marriage. Twelve years is a long time to date someone, which is why, five years ago, I finally proposed.
Finally. What a loaded word. I suspect it’s a clue to what’s really going on, only I’m not in the right frame of mind to delve deeper. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
Before I talk myself out of it, I take my phone out of my pocket and make the call.
‘Heya,’ Pippa chirrups, sounding much cheerier than she did a few hours ago. That won’t last.
‘Hi. So, you have your room sorted, I hear?’
‘Yes, they’ve been brilliant. We even got an upgrade – very kind of them considering it wasn’t their mistake. And the view! Oh, Nick, you’re going to love it here.’
She obviously doesn’t know about the volcano. And I did tell Delaney that if Pippa’s heart is set on Iceland, then I’d go. But is it fair of her to assume? It’s not like we’ve discussed it – we haven’t even been in touch with True North yet.
‘You are coming, right?’ she asks, filling the silence. I’ve done it again – let my thoughts get away from me. ‘Capri’s supposed to be beautiful,’ she continues, a slight waver in her voice, ‘but we can go next summer.’
My mind snags on next summer – and I feel like a right shit for making her doubt me – but I set both aside and get to the reason I’m phoning.
‘Pip, you mustn’t have seen the news.’
‘What news is that?’ I can picture the exact expression on her face.
‘Mount Etna erupted. They’re expecting an enormous ash cloud across southern Europe, impacting boat traffic and grounding flights. I’m afraid I’m stuck on Capri for the foreseeable future.’
‘What?’ she squeaks. ‘But you can’t— They can’t. I’ve got all these plans, Nick. You have to come. Please tell me you’re having me on this time.’
My chest tightens at the pleading in her voice. ‘I’m not, Pip, I prom—’
‘Wait a tick – I’m putting you on speaker. Oh god,’ she says a few moments later, ‘you’re being serious.’ She must have checked the news.
‘Yes.’
She sighs loudly. If only I was there to give her a hug – she says they’re better than a warm bath and a cup of tea for making everything right – but if I were there, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.
‘It’s a good thing no one’s been hurt,’ she says eventually. That’s Pip – always considering others. She’ll be donating to the Red Cross the moment she gets off the phone.
‘I really am sorry, Pip. I know you’ve been looking forward to this for ages.’
‘Yes, I have – for a very long time,’ she replies, her voice low and gravelly. ‘Look, I’ve got to go. Phone me if anything changes.’
She ends the call without saying goodbye and I take the phone away from my ear and stare at it, stunned. In all the years I’ve known Pippa, she’s never once been that abrupt with me.
Something’s going on. And it has nothing to do with a volcano.
* * *
After the call with Pippa, the room became stifling, so I’ve taken myself for a walk, ending up at the marina. A lot of the chaos seems to have died down, and there are only a handful of smaller ferries waiting to depart.
Funnily, Delaney is at the restaurant where I had lunch earlier, a half-drunk Aperol Spritz in front of her.
‘Mind if I join you?’ I ask.
She looks up, her mouth falling open before stretching into a smile.
‘Be my guest,’ she says, and I take the chair next to hers, then signal for the waiter to bring me the same.
‘So, change your mind?’ she asks with an amused lift of her brows.
‘I wanted some air.’
‘Ah.’
‘Although I did bring this with me, just in case.’ I lean forward and take my passport out of my back pocket.
‘Hah!’ she laughs. ‘But never keep your passport in your back pocket – travel safety 101.’
‘I’ll keep that in mind for next time.’
‘Next time you have to evacuate a tiny island in the Bay of Naples because a volcano erupted?’
‘You’d be surprised how many times it’s happened before. This isn’t even the first time this year.’
‘Is that right?’ she asks, the smirk returning.
The same waiter from lunch sets my drink on the table and disappears – again, before I can thank him.
Delaney reaches for hers. ‘To Mount Fucking Etna,’ she says, drawing each word out.
‘To Mount Fucking Etna,’ I reply. I take a long pull, but it’s mostly Aperol and I use the straw to mix in the prosecco and soda water. ‘So, I take it you didn’t have any luck?’ I venture.
‘Oh, no, I’ve got a ticket on that boat right over there,’ she says, pointing to a derelict fishing boat. ‘Leaves in, oh’ – she checks her naked wrist – ‘a half-hour or so.’
‘Half an hour, or when the tide goes out and it goes with it?’
‘That,’ she replies with a pointed finger.
‘I’m sorry it didn’t work out, but I admire your determination.’
‘Thanks.’ She stares at me for a long moment then looks away. ‘By the way, I did talk to the harbour master.’
‘Really?’
‘Yeah. Nice guy – calm, considering. But then, he lives on Capri – with his husband and their Pomeranians, Luca and Lola.’
I start laughing. ‘Are you pulling my leg?’
She crosses her heart and holds up three fingers. ‘Scout’s honour. They live up there somewhere,’ she says, motioning behind us.
‘I’m impressed.’
I thought she’d have no chance getting anywhere near him at a time like this. Of course, I’d never say that. I’ve learned the hard way that women don’t want to be talked down to – who’d have thought?
Delaney shrugs again as if it’s no big deal.
‘The thing is, it’s not up to him,’ she continues. ‘All of the ferry captains live on the mainland – that’s why they’re hustling to leave, even though there’s no sign of…’ She looks to the sky and gestures.
‘Right, that makes sense. They don’t want to get stuck here.’
‘Exactly – perfectly happy to strand us here, but…’ She trails off and drinks her spritz through the straw, finishing it with a noisy gurgle. She lifts her head and signals for another round.
‘Oh, unless you don’t want another one?’ she asks.
‘I suppose we should take advantage while everything’s still open.’
‘That’s what I was thinking,’ she says, playfully slapping my bicep. This may not be her first spritz.
She shakes out her hand, her scowl deepening. ‘Ow. Like slapping a block of marble,’ she says softly to herself.
I stifle a laugh – apparently women don’t like being laughed at either, even when they’re being unintentionally cute.
‘Hey, Nick, let’s get gelato after this.’
Definitely not her first spritz and this time, I can’t stop myself from laughing.