Chapter Eighteen #3
When the three sisters emerged, they found the sun had given up altogether and clouds piled up in the sky like misshapen grey pillows caught on the mountain tops.
Jade’s hair whipped into her face. At least, that’s where she put the blame for her stinging eyes.
‘Feels stormy.’ Her voice echoed oddly in her ears.
Erin ignored her attempt at small talk and regarded her narrowly. ‘How do you feel?’
‘All over the place.’ Jade swallowed.
Rosalie slipped her hand into Jade’s and squeezed. ‘We could apologise for being born, if you like.’
That surprised a half-laugh from her. ‘That’s probably going a bit far. But I do think you ought to buy me lunch.’
Rosalie gave a small skip. ‘Yes! Let’s go to that café near the lake and watch to see if we do get a storm.’
‘We’ve had such a dry August that we’re due serious rainfall. You might get soaked,’ Jade said wryly. ‘Lake Como dishes up spectacular squalls.’
She was soon proved correct.
As they ate insalata dello chef and split a bottle of rosebud-pink Franciacorta Rosé under the parasols of Cavalla, they watched the lake ruffle and moored boats switch from a slow waltz to a lively jig.
The clouds bloomed from pearl grey to charcoal and purple.
The trees on the mountains swished as if stroked by an unseen hand, and a few of last year’s palm fronds cartwheeled past the café as the wind funnelled between the sheer slopes.
A man in an apron appeared and hurriedly stacked tables and chairs.
Another began furling the flapping parasols.
Jade slugged back the last of her wine. ‘Let’s go, or we’ll be drowned when the rain arrives.
I’ll get a taxi.’ Luckily, she was so well-known to a local company that a car appeared in a few minutes.
They’d barely begun along Lungo Lario Trento when the first rain flung itself against the windscreen as if from a bucket.
‘Wow.’ Erin sounded elated. ‘The weather’s angry.’
At Three Sisters, they ran from the open car doors, wiping raindrops from their faces as they tumbled indoors.
The storm raged all afternoon, thunder rolling and forked lightning setting fire to the sky.
Soaked guests scurried into Reception to trail disconsolately to their rooms, complaining loudly about the weather.
Jade gave her usual excuse of work awaiting her, left her newly minted business partners to their own devices and shut herself in her office.
She’d get used to the new situation more readily when two of the pensione’s three sisters returned to the UK and Jade could continue to manage the place she loved.
In addition to posting occasional friendly remarks in the Joey’s kids WhatsApp group, each year she’d send them the business accounts, with a recommendation as to what could be taken out as profit share.
Probably, they’d come out once or twice a year to stay in Gran’s old room.
Who wouldn’t take advantage of free accommodation in a gorgeous, sought-after destination?
Despite such pragmatic thinking, occasionally she wiped her eyes or blew her nose, awash with the knowledge that today’s transaction had been a final goodbye to darling Gran. ‘Forgive me for missing you,’ she whispered. ‘Because I’ve more or less forgiven you your secret.’
It was the middle of the afternoon when someone tapped at the office door. She lifted her voice. ‘Sì? Prego?’
The door swung open and, hesitantly, Sheenagh edged in, bedraggled by wind and rain, her brow puckered. Hesitantly, she produced a box of Swiss chocolates from behind her back. ‘Olive branch.’
Jade uttered the kind of sound that didn’t know whether it was a sob or a laugh. Leo must have passed on her comment about peace offerings. Jumping up and rounding the desk, she opened her arms.
Sheenagh raced into them. ‘I so apologise, Jade.’ Her breath was hot against Jade’s shoulder. ‘I was shocked and upset, and misdirected that at you. Leo talked to me and I realise I was interfering. I’m ashamed, when you’ve had so much to cope with. Can you forgive me?’
Squeezing Sheenagh tighter, Jade was glad and relieved. Huskily, she said, ‘Of course. Let’s celebrate by opening those luscious-looking chocolates.’
Soon they were seated on each side of Jade’s desk, ignoring work and dipping into the white-and-blue box of Cailler chocolates while Jade recounted what had happened this morning.
Outside, the rain hissed even above the noise of the traffic, as if September intended to provide all the rain that August had forgotten to deliver.
‘Bring your new sisters for dinner at Lounge Panorama tomorrow evening,’ Sheenagh suggested.
‘I’d love to meet them. And, of course, you already know that Leo’s funds are being returned to him, which is a massive relief, so we can call it a celebration.
’ She pulled a face. ‘I feel sorry for Isabella, though, despite everything she put Leo through. It does sound as if her dad’s at the bottom of it all.
’ A speculative gleam entered her eyes. ‘Leo said you and he . . . ?’
Colouring, Jade realised she was pleased that Leo had told Sheenagh about them. She’d have understood if he hadn’t, given their history, but his doing so made whatever they were doing seem less casual. ‘Seeing each other,’ she replied airily and was rewarded by a brilliant smile.
‘Will eight-thirty be OK tomorrow evening?’ Sheenagh gathered up her raincoat.
‘I’ll check with the others and confirm.’ Though Jade and Sheenagh shared a parting hug, Jade couldn’t help noticing that her friend didn’t mention Geneva. How would she have reacted if Jade had asked to bring her?
And how would Jade have felt if Sheenagh had said yes?