Chapter 43
“Bye!” I shout. “Have a brill time!”
I’m dropping Theo and Callum off at Lucca train station, where they’re catching a train to Florence.
They’re off to watch a football match: Fiorentina, our local team in the Serie A—apparently Italy’s equivalent of the Premier League—are playing Lazio at home.
It’s the first game of the season and Theo surprised Callum by buying tickets from a friend of Stefano’s.
Seeing the look on Callum’s face was pure joy.
As it is to watch the two of them bounce into the station, Theo wrapping his arm around Callum’s shoulders.
I can’t help thinking of my own relationship with my dad. If I’ve been too hard on him about his response to Mum’s death, have I also been too hard on him about his response to having a gay son? What if I’ve been punishing him all these years and he doesn’t deserve it?
Well, I’ve emailed him now, offering to visit him in Umbria. I’ll just have to wait for his reply.
When Mabel, Archie and I arrive back at the house, Mabel and I spend a few hours recording videos for social media.
I do tours, share some of the property’s history, and even explain that it used to belong to my great-uncle and his Italian partner—although I don’t reveal any of the more personal details of their story.
By late afternoon, I’m worried I’ve neglected Archie, especially as he was upset about not going to the football—although Theo did explain that Stefano’s friend only had two tickets, so it would have to be a “big boy” trip.
I suggest the three of us go to the beach in Viareggio and he perks up.
Then I remember seeing the packaging for Mabel’s sanitary towels when I was emptying the bins.
I quickly add that I won’t be taking my swimming shorts: I just fancy breathing in the sea air while Archie has a run around. I’m delighted when she agrees.
As we arrive, we see the beach is busy with the usual Sunday crowds.
We weave our way to the shore and I do have a run around with Archie, but he spots some Welsh boys building an elaborate sandcastle and they invite him to join in.
I quickly introduce myself to the boys’ mum then spread our towels out a few meters away.
Mabel and I sit down, facing the sun but protected by a layer of cream as well as our hats and glasses.
“I’m glad Archie’s making friends,” I tell her. “I do worry he hasn’t been around anyone his own age all summer.”
She nods. “Would you think I’m mad if I said I had a dream about being friends with Taylor Swift?”
“No!” I burst out. “I used to dream about being friends with Kylie all the time!”
She smiles. “Really? What happened? In your dreams?”
“Well, we’d be sitting together in my room and talking about school and boys and who we fancied. And it all felt so real. It didn’t matter that I was only a kid. I was convinced that if we ever met, we’d be best friends.”
Mabel’s eyes glitter. “That’s exactly like my dream. Oh my god, it was incred. Me and Taylor were talking about skincare and she was looking at my clothes and saying I’m gorgeous and I should have more confidence.”
I waggle my eyebrows. “She’s right. You are gorgeous and you should have more confidence.”
Mabel looks a little bashful. “Thanks.”
I decide not to push the subject.
“I’ve also been thinking about Sharita and Aurora,” she goes on, plunging her hand into the sand. “They flew to Corfu yesterday and snapped some pics of their hotel.”
I sit up. “So that’s why you had the dream!”
“Probs, yeah.” Mabel lifts up a fist and lets the sand slowly fall out of it. “Anyway, Sharita messaged me this morning. Apparently, her and Aurora have fallen out.”
“Already?” I say. “That didn’t last long. Do you know what it’s about?”
“Something to do with a boy. She says she wishes I was there instead of Aurora.”
“I bet she does.”
Mabel bats the sand from her hands. “I wouldn’t want to, though. I’m happy here.”
I smile. “Brill.”
I watch Archie playing with the two boys. They seem to be digging a moat around the castle and laying a trench that connects it to the sea.
“But I’m not going to fall out with her,” Mabel adds. “I’ve been thinking, and I was probs a bit panicky at the start of summer.”
My eyes settle on a kite bobbing in the sky. “We’ve all been there—or at least I have. You may have been thinking you’d lost your dad and then the whole thing happened with your mum and you were worried about losing her.”
I realize I’ve brought up Kate’s lie about having a job. I didn’t intend to, especially as Mabel has made a great effort to avoid the subject ever since she told us the truth. I hope it doesn’t backfire.
“You know, I was devo about Mum,” Mabel confesses, gazing out at the horizon. “About her pretending to have another job and going away without us.”
I’m pleased she’s confiding in me but am aware that what I say next is very important.
“Mabel, I don’t know your mum very well,” I begin. “But I do know breakups can be very difficult. Especially when it’s not what you want.”
She plunges her hand back in the sand. “I suppose so.”
Into my head flashes an image of my mum, spotting Gary with another woman and bolting into the road.
“People can behave irrationally when they’re emotional,” I continue.
“But we shouldn’t judge them because we can never really know what’s going on in their head—even when we’re very close to them.
The important thing is it wouldn’t have been about you: your mum wouldn’t have lied because she wanted to leave you.
She’d have been angry and wanting to get at your dad.
That doesn’t change the way she feels about you. ”
I pause as I remember the one thing Mabel needs to hear most.
“Your mum loves you.”
Mabel pulls out her hand and lets the sand fall from her fist. “That’s what she says.”
“And …? Have you forgiven her?”
“Not yet.”
I watch the sea rush into the trench Archie and the boys have dug, filling the moat around the castle. The three of them cheer and Archie looks up to check I’ve seen. I give him a wave.
I turn back to Mabel. “Take it from me, keeping resentment inside you is like storing rotting fruit in the fridge: it’ll only go on rotting and the badness will just spread.”
I wonder if my metaphor could be applied to my feelings about my dad.
I check my phone to see if I’ve received a reply: I have.
“Sorry,” I say to Mabel, “I just need to read this.”
I shield my screen from the sun and give the email a quick scan.
Great news, lad! Wud love to see u. We arrived today but the campsite is quieter than we’re used to. Why don’t u come tomorrow? Our address is … Dad.
I feel a jangle of anxiety.
But I know the answer has to be yes.