Chapter 32
We mosey on over to the bistro, which is jam-packed with tourists who don’t look like they’re in any hurry to leave. I surreptitiously inspect the dishes being eaten at nearby tables. I try to avoid interrupting people’s meals to ask what they’re having, is it delicious, and can I have some.
‘Let me check what the wait time is,’ Ellis suggests, before darting off inside.
I take out my camera, determined to capture some memories that don’t just centre around the beach.
I want to prove to Naomi that I’m capable of doing more than slothing around, even though I feel that slothing around is highly underrated.
As I turn to snap my third photo of the cathedral, I hear a high-pitched laugh which cuts through the hum of the surrounding chatter.
It stops me in my tracks. I recognise that laugh.
How could I not? It’s been ringing in my ears for the past forty-five years.
My head spins around so fast, I almost get whiplash and see the back of a very blonde head.
I almost rub my eyes in disbelief, like a cartoon character. It can’t be. Surely not?
She laughs again. It absolutely is. How can this be happening? I’m a thousand miles from Whitby. I slowly walk towards her, hoping that I just have sunstroke and I’m imaging the whole thing.
‘Mum?’
Her head turns and her jaw drops. She’s just as surprised as I am. If she didn’t have such a claw-like grip on her wine glass, she might have spilled it.
‘Soapy?’ Her eyes widen but then immediately narrow. ‘I can’t believe it. What are you doing here?’
‘Me?’ I exclaim. ‘What are you doing here?’ She’s wearing a white summer dress, with a poppy print shawl around her shoulders. She looks beautiful.
‘We’re on holiday!’ she replies. ‘Remember, the cruise I told you about? This is our last day, we fly back tomorrow.’
The man beside her puts down his drink, his eyes darting between us, waiting for an introduction. He looks like the photo I found on Facebook. At least that’s a start.
‘Paul. This is my Sophie!’
‘You’re kidding!’ he replies. ‘What a wonderful surprise! Please, sit with us!’
Still stunned, I pull a chair over from the opposite table, not checking whether it belongs to anyone. Right now my need to sit is more important.
‘Nice to meet you,’ Paul says, gesturing to the waiter for another glass. ‘Good to finally put a face to the name. Are you on holiday too?’
‘I am,’ I reply. ‘I’m—’
‘You never said you were going on holiday.’ Mum looks at me with a hint of scepticism, like I’d purposefully not revealed my plans. The whole thing was so impulsive, it never crossed my mind to tell her. ‘You’re not here to keep an eye on me, are you?’
She gives Paul a little nudge. ‘She’s very suspicious of your name, you know.’
He laughs and nods. ‘I understand. Can’t say I wouldn’t be happy to look like the fella, but sadly the name is all we share.’
‘I still don’t know who he is,’ Mum says. ‘But I bet you have him beat, hands down.’
The way they smile at each other is heartening.
‘Of course I’m not keeping an eye on you!’ I reply. ‘I was due a few days off. I decided to cruise too. In fact, I mentioned it to Naomi and she thought it would be fun.’
Initially she looks pleased, but it quickly changes to confusion. ‘But Naomi’s not with you?’
‘Nope.’
‘You’re alone? Why on earth would you do that?’ She turns to Paul. ‘Don’t you think that’s a little strange?’
His eyes dart between us. He looks uncomfortable. ‘Well, these days, I think it’s perfectly normal to—’
‘It’s fine, Mum,’ I interject. ‘You know that I’m more than capable of being alone, on a cruise or otherwise.’
‘Have you eaten?’ Paul asks, subtly trying to move away from the subject. ‘The food here is excellent. They do a beautiful seabass.’
‘I haven’t eaten,’ I reply. ‘But I’m actually having lunch with—’
‘It’s about a thirty-minute wait. At least that’s what I think he said, my Italian is rusty. We might just have to get lunch somewhere else.’
Ellis smiles amiably at the strangers in front of him. I see Mum’s eyes widen. Before he can utter another word, she goes into full interrogation mode.
‘Soapy, I thought you were alone?’ she questions, studying Ellis like she’s about to appraise him. ‘Aren’t you going to introduce us?’
Hell no. I’d rather run up those stairs again than subject Ellis to the hot mess that is my family dynamic. But I also don’t want to appear rude.
‘Ellis, this is my mum Pamela and her friend Paul. Mum, Paul, this is Ellis.’
‘Your mum?’ Ellis shakes their hands, looking puzzled. ‘What a coincidence. Do you live here in Italy or . . .’
‘We’re on a cruise!’ she replies, giddily. ‘I had no idea Soapy was here!’
Ellis grins. ‘Well, isn’t that something.’
‘So you just met on the boat?’ she enquiries. ‘Or is there something I should—’
‘No, Mum. Nothing to know. We met on board, that’s all. We’re on the same excursion today.’
I see her give Paul a side-eye. She doesn’t believe a word I’m saying.
‘Whatever you say, Soapy,’ she chirps, decanting more wine directly into that disbelieving hole in her face. ‘I’m just happy that my daughter has found a . . . friend. It’s about time.’
Oh, FUCKING HELL. I want to die. Time’s up.
‘So, amazing to see you both,’ I say. ‘We should probably get going. Don’t want the coach to leave without us.’
Ellis, obviously sensing my humiliation, nods. ‘Sure. Nice to meet you both.’
‘You too,’ Mum replies. ‘Look after my beautiful daughter now, Ellis.’
Oh, for God’s sake. ‘Bye, Mum. Paul. Enjoy your holiday.’
I’m the first to leave, with Ellis behind me, trying to keep up with my roadrunner style exit. Once we’re out of sight, I begin to slow down.
‘I swear to God, that woman . . .’
‘I take it that wasn’t a welcome surprise?’ he asks. ‘Unless you normally emit unbridled cringe from your pores.’
‘That obvious, huh?’ I reply. ‘God, I’m so sorry. My mum has no filter. It’s a problem.’
‘Don’t worry about it!’ he says. ‘It’s not the worst thing in the world.’
‘True.’
‘My mother on the other hand . . . Well, my wife was white. Let’s just say that my Nigerian mom wasn’t initially open to interracial dating. Her filter is also non-existent, though at least she was polite enough to only express her concerns to me.’
‘I see,’ I reply. ‘That’s harsh.’
He remains silent for a moment while we stroll.
‘I do have a question, though,’ he says, tentatively. ‘And can you be honest?’
‘I’ll try.’
‘Who the hell is Soapy?’
We find a family-run limoncello shop and head inside to sample, and they happily oblige. From the window display to the walls inside, the store is bursting with bottles of different shapes and colours, along with souvenirs.
I take a sip from the small shot glass. It’s so cold and sweet that my face almost collapses in on itself. ‘I think I hate this,’ I whisper to Ellis, so as not to offend the friendly staff.
‘How can you hate it?’ Ellis laughs. ‘It tastes like lemon meringue pie.’
I take another sip, just to be sure. ‘Nope. It’s too sweet! My teeth are retracting back into my jawbone.’
Ellis happily takes mine, eventually buying two bottles as gifts, while I buy two little lemon Christmas decorations because I don’t want to leave empty-handed.
‘Who are you giving those to?’ I ask as we leave the shop. ‘Will you be like, “Surprise! I secretly hate you!”?’
‘I have many enemies around the world,’ he replies, ‘but I wouldn’t waste this on them. Who was the guy with your mom? He seems decent.’
‘Paul is her newest boyfriend,’ I respond. ‘First time I’ve met him, but yeah, he does.’
‘Newest boyfriend?’
I nod. ‘She has a trail of broken hearts behind her. It’s hard to keep up.’