Chapter Twenty-Two
The restaurant had a beautiful view of the Duomo, which was hands down the most impressive cathedral I’d ever seen.
St Paul’s had been my favourite when I was younger and when I’d daydreamed about getting married to whichever unobtainable local boy/boyband member I was currently crushing on, I’d imagined the ceremony taking place there.
I’d be brimming with joy as I walked down the aisle on the arm of my new husband and we’d walk through the huge doors at the front and there would be well-wishers on the steps (I wasn’t sure who) cheering and throwing confetti.
This daydream was heavily inspired by photos I’d seen of Princess Diana on her wedding day.
And if (strange to think it might be an ‘if’ now) I actually was to get married, the reality was likely to be much less idyllic than it had been in my fantasy.
My family would have to meet Nick’s for a start and I couldn’t imagine two sets of people less alike.
And my mum and dad would have to be in the same room, which had only happened a couple of times since they’d split up and was never easy.
‘Impressive, isn’t it?’ said Rosamund, who had clearly been watching me watching the Duomo.
I didn’t think it was actually called that: the church itself had a name.
But it was the huge dome with its terracotta roof that was most memorable.
I’d read a bit about it in my guidebook: something about the revolutionary way they’d created the ceiling.
And about the huge gold orb on top once falling off and crashing onto the pavement below, somehow managing to avoid killing anyone in the process.
‘Stunning,’ I said. ‘It must have taken hundreds of years to build. All that detail.’
Rosamund nodded. She poured us each a glass of water.
‘Have you and Nick travelled much together?’ she asked.
I thought this was possibly one of the most normal conversations we’d had since I’d arrived.
Which was ironic, because I was full of doubts in a way that I hadn’t been at the beginning of the trip.
About Nick, but also about Aidan, who had come back into my life at the worst possible moment and yet had brought a lightness that I’d forgotten existed.
‘A little,’ I said. ‘But, as you know, Nick’s reluctant to fly, especially long haul.’
‘Yes, he’s terrified, poor thing. Always has been,’ remarked Rosamund.
I was pretty sure Nick had told me he’d been skiing every year in some pretentious-sounding resort, and had clearly been forced to fly then, so why couldn’t he force himself now? I’d even offered to book him on one of those fear-of-flying courses the big airlines do, but he’d point-blank refused.
‘So how does it feel to have been married for forty-five years?’ I asked.
Rosamund dabbed the corner of her mouth with a napkin. I wasn’t sure why, because we hadn’t eaten anything yet.
‘I’ve been very lucky,’ she said. ‘But I knew very early on that he was the one. You just know, don’t you?’
‘Mmmn,’ I said, nodding enthusiastically and trying to ignore the curl of fear in my stomach.
Bloody Aidan’s face came into my head, of course.
He was absolutely not my one. When you meet ‘the one’ things go smoothly, don’t they?
You don’t have one person ghosting the other, or one of you getting engaged to somebody else.
It should be smooth and obvious from the beginning.
No drama. No massive ups and downs, just a constant stream of it feeling nice and safe.
Like it was with Nick. Except that maybe not being able to be myself didn’t feel that safe.
And, recently, it hadn’t even felt particularly nice.
‘Lost any teenagers lately, Maddie?’ piped up Sophia from the other end of the table.
I looked at her. Was she really doing this, in front of everyone? Nick was no help, he wouldn’t even look at me.
‘I’ve already apol—’
‘I’m only joking!’ trilled Sophia, guffawing at her own non-joke, even though it was clear to us all that she was still absolutely livid with me.
‘Oh hahahaha!’ joined in Rosamund.
‘What have I missed?’ asked a baffled Peter.
‘Nothing, Peter. Maddie managed to … mislay Daisy earlier, that was all,’ said Rosamund, being uncharacteristically tactful.
‘It wasn’t Maddie’s fault, anyway,’ said Daisy, loudly enough that everyone stopped their chortling and looked at her. ‘I wandered off and lost track of time.’
‘You shouldn’t have been given the opportunity to wander off, Daisy, really,’ remarked Sophia, looking pointedly at me.
Daisy, who must have been feeling guilty (either that or she just wanted to spice up the evening by causing a huge row), wasn’t letting it go.
‘Yeah, but I basically lied to Maddie and told her I went out in London all the time on my own and that Mum and Dad were fine with it. And I told her I’d call Mum to tell her where I was.
Maddie tried to ring you, Dad, but you didn’t answer your phone. As usual.’
‘As usual?’ repeated Nick.
Daisy shrugged. ‘I can never get hold of you when I need to.’
‘That’s ridiculous, Daisy,’ said Sophia, her eyes blazing. ‘Daddy always puts you first.’
Daisy didn’t look convinced. And it made me wonder that if Daisy didn’t feel she was Nick’s priority and I certainly didn’t, who was?
Himself, I supposed. There was a definite vibe that people looked after number one in this family.
I couldn’t believe I’d never noticed that about Nick before.
I mean, he was generous and giving and loving in many ways, but now I came to think about it, he would also never do anything that he didn’t want to do for the sake of somebody else.
Peter seemed to be finding the whole thing hilarious. ‘So you’ve caused a bit of a drama today, have you Daisy Boo? Attagirl!’
‘Don’t encourage her, please, Peter,’ said Sophia, who was clearly pissed off that everyone except Rosamund seemed to be missing the point, which was that I was a terrible, useless and incompetent person.
‘Anyway, Maddie,’ said Daisy, ducking into her bag, ‘I made this for you.’
She passed me an A5 piece of cream card with something sketched on it in fine, grey charcoal. I recognised it immediately: the Piazza della Signoria.
‘Daisy, did you draw this?’ I asked, touched.
She nodded, her cheeks flushing pink. ‘I noticed how much you like that square. And I just wanted to, you know, say sorry for getting you into trouble.’
I reached across the table and squeezed Daisy’s hand. ‘Thank you, Daisy. I think this is the loveliest gift I’ve ever received.’
As I looked at the sketch, I could feel several sets of eyes on me. I wondered what they were all thinking. And I wondered how a fourteen-year-old had managed to make me feel more ‘seen’ than all of them put together.
Dinner had thankfully come to an end and I was relieved to be away from Sophia and her stream of snippy comments as Nick and I made our way back to our room.
I’d half been expecting him to say he was going for a walk or something, anything to avoid being alone with me.
Things had been frosty between us since we’d argued about Daisy and whereas I’d usually be doing everything I could to smooth things over, I hadn’t this time, and so it had gone on and on because I didn’t suppose Nick was going to back down.
Which wasn’t great because it meant we had basically stopped communicating.
I pressed my lips together and went for it.
‘Nick, can we talk?’ I said, as we made our way down the corridor towards our room.
‘I’m not ready to just at the moment,’ he replied, sounding all stiff and distant.
‘Is this still about Daisy?’
‘Of course it’s about bloody Daisy!’ he snapped. ‘You’re going to be her stepmother. How do you think it looks when you can’t even keep tabs on her for a couple of hours? It’s embarrassing.’
I stopped dead. ‘I’m embarrassing you now, am I? Really?’
Nick tutted. ‘I didn’t mean it like—’
‘Of course you did.’
I was seething. I must have apologised about twenty times and still he was punishing me for doing such an awful job of caring for his daughter.
Nick tried to open the door, but the keypad kept beeping insolently, flashing red instead of green.
Not that I felt like going into the room with him anyway.
I was on the verge of turning around and going out myself.
A solo walk along the Arno sounded preferable to being holed up in a hotel room bickering about something that I couldn’t change.
Obviously, if I was in that situation again, I wouldn’t let Daisy go, but couldn’t Nick cut me some slack?
Daisy had convinced me it would all be fine and she’d admitted that herself at dinner.
‘Jealousy doesn’t suit you, by the way,’ said Nick.
I frowned, genuinely confused. ‘Who am I supposed to be jealous of?’
‘Sophia,’ he replied. ‘You keep looking at her apparently, every time she tries to talk to me. We’re always going to have Daisy in common and we will always need to talk, so I’m sorry if it makes you uncomfortable, but that’s the way it’s going to have to be.’
Nick went into the room and I hung back, using my foot to prop open the door.
I didn’t want to go in. Every part of me was telling me to leave, that this person was not the Nick I’d first met, who’d been so chivalrous and easy to be around.
If this was what being with his family did to him, I wished it had happened sooner so that I would have known.
‘This has come from Sophia, hasn’t it?’ I said, still hovering in the doorway. It would feel too claustrophobic in the room. ‘She’s putting these ideas in your head.’
I heard the lift ping open and glanced down the corridor.
Aidan was walking towards me. He was wearing a pristine white polo shirt and black jeans and his eyes sparkled as he smiled at me, as though he was genuinely happy to see me, something I hadn’t felt from Nick for what seemed like ages.
I felt like taking my foot out of the door, letting it close behind me and walking into Aidan’s arms. I had never forgotten how it felt to be held by him.
And then I took a deep breath and tore my eyes away. I went into our room, dropped my bag on the floor and sat on the end of the bed. Nick was in the bathroom; I heard the shower turn on. I listened hard to the beep of Aidan opening his door and the slam as it shut behind him.