Chapter 13
‘You agreed to do what? Stella, have you gone stark, raving mad?’
Stella stopped coiling her linguine around her fork. She’d thought it best to let Joe relax with a couple of glasses of wine before broaching their change of plan but judging by the way he was raising his voice, the alcohol hadn’t had the effect she’d hoped for.
‘I’m only going to look after the shop for a few days until Luisa’s husband can arrange to take time off to look after their grandkids. Then she can come and hold the fort.’
‘Well, you’ll just have to tell her you can’t do it. We’ve got a private car taking us to Portofino tomorrow, everything’s booked and paid for.’
‘They’re family,’ Stella said.
‘Not exactly close, are they? In all the months we’ve been together you’ve never mentioned them. In fact, you implied you’d no family left in the village.’
‘I didn’t realise Domenico was still alive.’
Joe forked up a great coil of pasta. ‘I think that rather proves my point.’
Stella stared at the remnants of her linguine ai frutti di mare. Were they really having their first argument? She hadn’t expected him to be overjoyed at the turn of events but she had expected a calm discussion, not an outright ‘no’.
‘You were the one who wanted to come here. You were the one who said I should pop into the shop and see him.’ It was a pretty pathetic argument to make but she couldn’t think what else to say.
‘You haven’t thought this through, have you?’ Joe said patiently. ‘Where would we stay? We’ve only got the apartment here for one night. And I’m sure your uncle wouldn’t want to ruin the holiday of a lifetime.’
Stella frowned. Joe had already been abroad three times this year, he could afford to jet off whenever he felt like it.
‘I know it’s not what you planned but we can stay at Domenico’s place. It’s a funny little house but this is just a short trip, it’s not like it’s our honeymoon. We can go to Portofino anytime.’
‘I spent hours planning a special treat for your sixtieth and that’s all this is to you? Nothing important?’ His voice was getting louder. The other diners at Da Luca were beginning to stare.
‘Joe! You know I didn’t mean it like that.’
The waitress was approaching. Stella gave her an extra-big smile, trying to make up for the tension radiating from their table. The woman cleared away the plates from their first courses. Joe poured himself another glass of rossese, not bothering to offer Stella any.
They sat in awkward silence until the main courses arrived.
Stella had chosen fresh fish with creamed peas but her appetite had gone, her stomach as tangled up as her linguine starter.
Joe shovelled his steak down, ignoring her attempts to lighten the atmosphere.
He finished the last of his potatoes and drained his glass.
‘We’ll need to have breakfast early, Stella, our taxi comes at nine thirty.
We won’t be able to get into our room in Portofino until two but we’ll drop our cases, take a look around and have a long lunch at this very special restaurant I’ve booked.
’ He spoke as if their earlier conversation hadn’t taken place.
‘I can’t do that, Joe, I have to help out, even if it’s just for a day or two until Luisa can arrange someone else to cover the shop. I know this is a special trip but we’ve got a lifetime of holidays to look forward to.’
Joe leant across the table, dropping his voice to a whisper. ‘You just don’t get it, do you, Stella? You and I are getting the taxi I booked. You’re not going to work in that shop, not for one day, not for one hour. We’re leaving in the morning and that’s that. Have I made myself clear?’
Stella stared at his closed-up face, the glower that marred his good looks. She looked down at her lap and picked a piece of squid off the new dress he’d bought her.
Joe signalled to the waitress for the bill. ‘I’m beat, I could do with an early night. You didn’t want dessert, anyway, did you?’