Chapter Thirty-Nine
‘I can stay,’ Stella had insisted in a muffled voice. ‘I don’t have to go.’
‘No, go,’ said Olivia, releasing herself from their hug. ‘I’ll be OK.’
‘I’ll call you,’ Stella had whispered, propping open the door and reaching for the handle of her suitcase. ‘And you call me if you need me, day or night. Promise?’
‘I promise.’
‘What are you going to do about Leo?’
‘Honestly, I still don’t know. But I will. I promise you that, too.’
Olivia got out of bed, her body like lead, her heart like a stone.
She quicky showered and eased on jersey joggers, a sweatshirt, her big coat and her beanie hat.
She would go to the lobby to book a few more days at the hotel so she could do what she needed to for her godmother.
She would head for the hotel grounds afterwards, maybe; walk around, and send a large, sad piece of her heart up to the Venice sky, for both Gillian and her father.
Grabbing her bag and her keycard as she left the room, she glanced briefly at the pale yellow dress, hanging on the front of the wardrobe, then let the door close behind her.
The lift to the ground floor was empty. Her reflection in the mirror best ignored.
She was experiencing a light-headed circle of emotions.
Great sadness about Gillian. Great relief about Gillian.
And the greatest indecision about Leo Greene.
He had done a wonderful thing in prompting Gillian’s note.
He had given her the lovely idea of writing her father into a book.
He had become a better man, he had told her so.
He had taken all the right steps, eventually.
He had learned how to forgive and be forgiven, and how to express that to her.
It made up for so much. It made her wonder if they could move on from the past, and into the light. It made her wonder, was it enough?
Olivia turned the corner to head to reception and, clumsily wiping her eyes, bumped straight into Tanya.
‘Oh, God – sorry, Olivia!’
‘No, I’m sorry!’
Tanya had dropped her handbag, scattering make-up, a purse and other expensive-looking detritus all over the floor. Olivia saw she’d also dropped Leo’s A4 notebook, the one with the matt orange cover. A sheaf of papers had slipped from it and fanned themselves rather prettily over the marble.
‘Oh, dear!’ Tanya cried. ‘I’ve only just had reception tape up the spine for him . . . Are you alright?’ she asked, looking at Olivia with some surprise.
‘Of course, I am. Let me help you . . .’
Tanya was on the floor, retrieving her make-up. Olivia bent to pick up Leo’s notebook, its spine indeed repaired with Sellotape, then the papers. The first had Leo’s unmistakable handwriting and an underlined heading: Gratitude List. Then a sub-heading: Things I Appreciate in the World.
It was dated Monday 9 October 2017, and Olivia couldn’t help have her eyes skim down the page.
Lemon butter
A good whiskey
Clouds
Freshly mown grass
Badgers
Umbrellas
Sunshine on a rainy day
Hyde Park in the springtime
Olivia Sackville
She picked up another sheet. It was dated 12 July 2016.
Apples
Rainbows
The morning mist when it clears
Steak and chips
Garlic
Robins
Seals
Olivia Sackville
And a third. 2 December 2015.
Butter chicken
Bounty bars
Cherry blossom
Cats
Coldplay
Olivia Sackville
Crouching down, Olivia quickly flicked through the remaining pages and there, at the bottom of each and every page – and there were more than a dozen of them – was her name.
The very last sheet she picked up was dated yesterday, 12 January, with the time added – 11.
45 p.m., and Leo’s gratitude list only had three entries:
Olivia
Olivia
Olivia
‘Where’s Leo?’ Olivia stood up. ‘Is he in his room?’
‘No,’ said Tanya, dropping the last lipstick back in her bag with a soft click. ‘He’s gone to Inizio’s, where the old boys go. For coffee.’
‘Can I take his notebook to him?’
‘Sure.’ Tanya looked bemused. She watched as Olivia stacked the lists together, slotted them back inside the notebook with the orange cover, slid it into her bag and hitched the bag over her shoulder.
‘You look like you’re on a mission,’ Tanya commented. ‘Are you sure you’re OK?’
‘I hope to be wonderful!’ Olivia replied. ‘If wonderful will still have me.’ And, blinking back fresh tears, she started to run.