Chapter Thirty-One
Olivia awoke the next morning, far too late, with a horrendous hangover – the kind she hadn’t had for years.
The early morning sun was a bright butter-yellow, a beam of it slicing through the curtains to form a wide canal on the bed.
She’d never had that glass of water. And she was sure someone was knocking on the door.
‘Morning, sleepyhead,’ Leo said, standing in the doorway dressed in linen trousers and a navy-blue shirt, holding his fedora in his hand. ‘I’m driving to Siena today. Want to come with me?’
‘What?’ She rubbed at her eyes. ‘I thought you had an epilogue to write.’
‘They’ve brought the shoot forward by a day,’ he said. ‘The filming and the film set is in Siena. Would you like to come? I’ve hired an Alfa Romeo Spider; we’ll be like Audrey Hepburn and Albert Finney in Two for the Road.’
‘Didn’t Audrey and Albert drive to the French Riviera?’
‘Well, I’m not going there. The seagull, remember?’
Olivia smiled. They were both pretending they hadn’t left each other the way they had last night, with him slipping out of her door in the small hours and her leaning against it after he had gone, wondering what on earth just had and hadn’t happened.
‘I’m supposed to be here for the last day of the retreat,’ she said. ‘What time even is it?’
‘Half eleven,’ he replied. ‘You’ve missed most of it.
Surely this will be better – an Italian road trip for two?
I mean, it’s only an hour to Siena, but it should be fun.
Actually.’ He looked sheepish. ‘I wondered if I could drive you all the way to Venice, to your godmother’s, spend some time together.
Stop off at a couple of places along the way. ’
There was no reason to say yes to him, and every reason to say no.
Last night’s temptation had almost been a disaster.
She had the retreat to complete. She was in danger of liking him too much – again.
What would Sam and Henrietta say? What possible point was there in resuming their friendship that, at this moment and in last night’s moments, seemed tenuous at best?
How would she explain to Alice she had bailed out early and not finished the chapter she was supposed to be working on?
But then again, Alice was to blame for Leo turning up in the first place.
And Leo was a very tempting man, and Olivia was a lonely author who seemed to be up for saying yes.
Hadn’t she jumped in a car with him before, and driven to Wiltshire? Would it really be so bad to jump in with him again?
‘I won’t get in the way? At the film set?’
‘No, of course not. There’s always loads of people hanging around.’ He grinned at her as if to say, Don’t take offence. ‘So will you come?’
‘OK, then,’ she agreed. She was being uncharacteristically spontaneous. She was happy to miss the last day of the workshop. She wanted to go to Siena with him. She had no idea what he was doing, but somehow she wanted to come along for the ride.
‘That’s the spirit. The car’s being delivered in fifteen minutes.’
‘Right, well, I’ll pack my stuff. And I said I’d call Gillian this morning. Give me half an hour?’
‘Perfect. You won’t regret it.’
Olivia brought up Gillian’s number on her phone.
She had asked for it a couple of years ago by letter, for emergencies, she had said, and Gillian had sent it in a letter back to her, with not much else in it except some brisk business news about the Guggenheim and a photo of one of her dogs.
The visit, pressed upon Gillian by her god-daughter, had also been arranged by letter.
Gillian sounded out of breath when she answered the phone.
‘Oh, hi, Olivia!’ It was strange to hear her voice again after all this time, Olivia thought. She wondered how Gillian felt hearing hers. ‘I’m just heading off to the Guggenheim. There’s a new exhibit going up today and I’ve got a ton of things to do.’
‘Fantastic! Hope it goes really well. I’m just checking things are still OK for Friday.’
‘Friday?’ Gillian sounded distracted, half out the door.
‘Yes, when I’m coming, remember?’
‘Oh, yes, Friday. Yes, of course that’s OK. If I’m not here, just let yourself in. The key will be under the blue pot by the front door. Right, must dash!’
And the call was over. Gillian didn’t really want her to come. Gillian was suffering her. Gillian felt captive. But Olivia needed to see her godmother, so long estranged. They needed to talk.
Twenty minutes later, she was wheeling her little suitcase to the boot of a cute-looking vintage sports car – its roof down – that Leo was patting proudly like a dog.
‘Let me help you with that.’ He reached for the handle of her suitcase.
‘No, I can do it.’
Olivia placed the suitcase in the boot, next to Leo’s and a rolled-up picnic blanket. He was holding the passenger door open for her.
‘You don’t need to do that, either.’
‘No, I know. But I want to,’ he said, grinning, ‘Siena awaits.’
He closed the door and started the car’s throaty engine. They purred out of the drive, and, at the gate, Leo gave a jaunty wave to the writers on the terrace.
‘See you, guys!’ he called out. ‘I’m whisking Ms Sackville off to Siena. She won’t be back, I’m afraid, but she’ll see you in England sometime!’
Olivia gave a small, embarrassed wave from the passenger seat, especially as Leo was talking like someone from some long-ago era, and Leo roared off, leaving open mouths on the terrace.
‘On the road again,’ he said to Olivia with a smile, once they were down the hill and on the picturesque road away from the villa. ‘It’s like we just can’t help ourselves.’
Which is exactly what she worried about, that they weren’t helping themselves at all – that she wasn’t – but for now, what did that matter?
She’d never expected to arrive at a villa in Tuscany for a writers’ retreat and leave it on a road trip with Leo Greene in a vintage Italian sports car.
She’d never expected to nearly sleep with him again, and how much she’d wanted to. But life was full of surprises.
‘You OK?’ he asked as she wound down the window and let the soft breeze tickle her hair. The scent of olive groves drifted in through the window, the sun a morning concerto on the fields and the lanes.
‘Perfectly,’ she replied with a smile so warm for him it almost brought tears to her own sunlit eyes. This was dangerous, she thought. Dangerous for her heart. But her heart wasn’t giving her any other choice.
They were on the road. Their path was set. And she had no idea where the road was going to end, and with what words.