Chapter 28
The lads’ only night at Villa Capparis was like the stag do, but in a more sophisticated setting than a city-centre bar and without as much drunkenness or a punch-up.
After a few jolly hours of chatting, sensible drinking and games of pool and cards, by midnight Fabs’s family were in taxis on their way back to Villa Sereno and the friends were all heading to bed, with Fabs crashing on the sofa bed in the pool house.
Not that Rhys could get to sleep with his mind whirring.
He presumed Lola had returned with the others when footsteps sounded along the hallway.
The door to Zoe and Freddie’s room opened and closed.
He briefly wondered how Zoe had coped with a whole evening spent with Mirabel and her friends.
Not so long ago, it would have been Zoe returning to his room.
To their room. Not that he actually cared any longer.
He rolled on to his back and stared up at the dark ceiling.
The anger he’d felt at the stag do and then again at the restaurant when Freddie had announced their engagement had dissipated because he knew he was better off without Zoe – he had been since the moment she’d walked out, chucking away a three-year relationship along with their friendship, but it had taken him being in Sardinia to realise.
It had taken Lola to open his eyes to the truth.
Lola.
He sat upright in bed. He’d left the blinds open and he could see across the dark garden. The shadowy trees were backlit by moonlight. Lola would have a similar view on the other side of the villa; he wondered if she was still awake, her thoughts churning as much as his.
Rhys took his phone from the bedside table and scrolled through his photos.
There were a few more of them together since that first-night selfie.
Had his smile become more genuine as the days had gone by?
Because of Lola’s influence? He certainly felt lighter inside and his heart brighter, as if he was worthy of being in a relationship again, that he had something to offer someone and space in his heart.
He clicked into messages and onto Lola’s name.
As his thumbs hovered over the keypad, he was torn about inviting Lola to his room.
Could he be as forward and brave as he’d been last night in the Airbnb?
Just because he had enjoyed the hell out of their passionate kiss and fumble, that was all it had been.
Perhaps she’d been relieved that it had been cut short.
And perhaps he was now overthinking things and worrying about what she thought, when the simple truth was she made him happy in every way.
What he was certain about was not leaving it any longer to make contact, not when he’d been dying to talk to her all day. He wrote a message and sent it before he could chicken out.
Hey, hope your night was good. Ours was actually quite sophisticated and not at all drunken. :)
He stared at his phone like a desperately lovesick teenager, his heart only returning to its normal rhythm when he could see that she was typing something.
Hey there, ours was completely mad and you should see the photos of Giada, Felicity and Fabs’s nonna in feather boas and sparkly tiaras to understand just how crazy crackers it was, but also not that drunken either. We were all being sensible, not wanting wedding day hangovers.
Sounds epic.
Rhys paused typing, uncertain whether he should say more or simply wish her goodnight. He took a deep breath and decided on the first option.
Sorry I didn’t get a chance to talk to you earlier today, you seemed caught up with your friends, but distracted too. Hope everything’s okay?
He sent the message, but kicked himself for not being more specific.
Talk to you about last night was what he didn’t say but wished he had.
Neither of them had talked about what had happened in that tiny Airbnb room, at least not with each other.
Who knew what she may have said to her friends, while he hadn’t told anyone.
Fabs hadn’t asked about it, but then Fabs had a million other things on his mind.
With his wedding tomorrow, Rhys’s love life was not a priority.
Minutes later when there was no sign of Lola replying, Rhys snuggled into the pillows and pulled the cover around him with a sigh. He was about to put his phone back on the bedside table when a message pinged.
I need to tell you something about Jarek in the morning. Stuff happened.
You can tell me about it now if you want?
Was that a roundabout invitation for her to come to his room? He wasn’t sure what he’d meant by it, but when he saw Lola typing, he assumed she hadn’t seen it as a loaded question – or at least had ignored the underlying suggestion.
It took a while for her message to come through, and when it did, she’d pretty much written an essay.
His heart dropped at her words. The image she’d attached of the note her ex had sent with the flowers made his heart still.
Was Jarek really watching her every move?
Was he out there now creeping around in the darkness?
Before Rhys had a chance to reply, another message popped up, adding to her previous one.
I should have said something earlier, it’s just I told Sarah because she’d brought me the flowers, then Polly and the others arrived and I got swept up in everything.
Are you okay?
Yes and no. I’m relieved Polly’s here to keep me company – even if she’s fast asleep already, I’m not on my own.
And Sarah and Deni know about Jarek. And you do too.
I keep thinking what else he’s prepared to do, then tell myself off for even giving him a second more of my time, because it’s exactly what he wants.
I’m done with him. It’s the big day tomorrow, we should sleep. Night, Rhys x
Night Lola x
Whether she’d have preferred his company, she didn’t say.
She was right, they needed sleep and he would see her in the morning.
Except it took him ages to drift off because his head was filled with puzzling thoughts about that note and whether Lola had wanted him to suggest they spend the night together.
Attempting to read between the lines was futile, and all it did was leave him tired and confused.
* * *
Rhys woke with a start, worry about Jarek gnawing at him.
His second thought was that it was the day of the wedding, an exciting prospect but one he realised marked the beginning of the end of their time on Sardinia.
In a couple of days, Fabs and Mirabel would be heading off on honeymoon, while not long after, the rest of them would be leaving too, scattering back to different parts of Italy and the UK.
He stretched, yawned and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, grateful that he hadn’t really drunk last night.
The idea of leaving Sardinia left him with an odd feeling.
It had been strange to not start back at school at the beginning of September, to not inherit a new Year 5 class.
He’d be returning home for only a short time, just long enough to unpack, wash his clothes and repack for his European adventure.
Would putting his life on hold and running away from his problems really be the best use of his time?
And what was he actually hoping to find or achieve?
The most troubling thought he’d woken up with was that he’d be unlikely to see Lola again. Even the chance of spending time with her this morning would be fleeting when she’d be heading to the family house with her friends to join Mirabel for pre-wedding prep.
For those of them remaining at Villa Capparis with Fabs, breakfast had been scheduled for ten thirty – late enough to see them through to the wedding dinner once Fabs and Mirabel had tied the knot.
Rhys was awake early, so he showered, shaved and got dressed in the petrol-blue suit he’d bought specially for the wedding, which was the most expensive piece of clothing he’d ever owned.
As he got ready, he couldn’t stop mulling over the messages Lola had sent last night.
He kept coming back to the implausible idea that Jarek was actually spying on her.
The villa was gated, secure and backed by the sea, so unless he was out in a boat in the bay with binoculars, then there was no way he could see if she was here or not.
And how on earth had he known where to spy on her?
And if he’d known she hadn’t come back to Villa Capparis the night before last then?—
Realisation slammed into him, so obvious that he cursed himself for not thinking of it last night.
Pocketing his phone, he raced from the room. The main communal areas were quiet; the only sign anyone was around was the movement on the terrace where the table was being laid out for breakfast.
Rhys didn’t pause as he flew round the open door of Lola’s room, breathless as he said, ‘I know how Jarek knows where you are. Your phone, he’s tracking it!’