Chapter 30 Fenna – Day 7
With a grunt of effort, Fenna pushes the pushchair up the steep driveway. She needed to get out of the house this morning. What a week it’s been. They’re halfway through this trip and it feels less like a holiday every day.
Luke is in bed, nursing another hangover. She’s only seen Marianne this morning. They had an awkward moment in the kitchen where neither of them mentioned the formula milk incident, which got lost in the drama of Alba going missing. Fenna is still silently seething.
Marianne made polite small talk and tried to hide her embarrassment at not knowing where anything went.
If this was my house I’d be a lot more organised, Fenna had thought, watching her mother-in-law open and close cupboards at random, blaming the staff for putting things where they weren’t meant to be, muttering about how standards were slipping.
It’s a relief to be by herself and out in the fresh air.
Miraculously, Alba and Raffi are both napping in the double pushchair, so Fenna decides to take a gamble and stop at the small cafe in the town.
Hopefully both children will stay asleep long enough for her to have a drink in peace.
She orders an iced coffee and a pastry from a young waitress and takes a seat at an outside table.
As she settles back in her chair, something catches her eye over the road.
Rosie is coming out of the church.
Perhaps this is her chance to speak to her about yesterday?
The dramatic events churn around her mind.
She still doesn’t understand how Alba made her way to that lower garden.
Or what Rosie was doing down there in the first place.
She should call her over and see if she wants to join her. They need to talk.
She starts to lift an arm to wave her over but drops it. Rosie’s not alone. Giovanni has followed her out of the church. There’s a funny twist in her stomach at the way Rosie is acting. She seems nervous, shifting on her feet as the police officer says something to her.
The waitress returns with her drink, momentarily blocking her view. Ice-cubes clink in her tall glass, the sugar glaze on the pastry glitters in the sunlight. Fenna glances back at the church as the waitress goes to get the card machine.
Rosie has gone.
Fenna twists in her seat. She looks down the street. There’s no sign of her. Both Rosie and Giovanni have disappeared.
‘Grazie.’ Fenna taps her card against the screen, distracted by a rush of thoughts. What was she talking to Giovanni about? Why does Rosie seem so nervous all the time? Has he picked up on something too?
‘Scusa, non funziona,’ the waitress apologises, bringing Fenna back to the present.
Her card is declined.
She must be using the wrong bank account. Luke hasn’t sent her any information yet. Has she got enough cash on her? She rummages to find her purse in her bag; perhaps she has some loose change in there. Her clammy fingers push nappies and spare clothes out of the way.
‘Solo un minuto,’ Fenna mumbles. She’s sure she saw cash in here, didn’t she?
‘I’ll get this,’ a reassuring, deep voice says in Italian from behind her.
Giovanni hands over a twenty euro note and orders a double espresso to take away. He tells the blushing waitress to keep the change.
‘Are you alone?’ he asks Fenna, gesturing to the empty chair opposite her. ‘Would you mind if I sit for a moment?’
‘Sure. Be my guest.’ She brushes hair from her face, aware of how warm it has gone all of a sudden. ‘Thank you for paying.’
‘My treat. How long are you staying this time?’ he asks, smooth, authoritative.
‘One more week.’ Fenna runs her tongue over her teeth, unsure if she remembered to brush them before she left the house.
His legs touch hers. Neither of them move.
Luke doesn’t know that Fenna and Giovanni have met before.
No one does.
It was when they were here on holiday last summer.
She was in the hire car, distracted by Alba crying in the back, and drove the wrong way down a one-way street.
Two police officers pulled her over. Giovanni was one of them.
He could see it was an honest mistake and let her go with a warning, persuading his colleague not to issue a fine.
She never told Luke about the embarrassing incident.
If she had tried to tell him how kind Giovanni was her husband wouldn’t listen.
He has some stupid teenage rivalry with this man.
What would Luke say if he saw them together now?
She’s suddenly grateful that Rosie has vanished.
Not that Fenna’s doing anything wrong, she’s just a woman sitting in a cafe, talking to a friendly police officer.
However, her hands are suddenly slick with sweat being so close to him. She forgot how handsome he is.
Her sex drive is non-existent since having Raffi, so this unexpected tingle of desire takes her by surprise. It must be the uniform. Get a grip. She brushes the rush of illicit thoughts away, grateful that he can’t read her mind.
Fenna picks up her glass, pleased to have something to help her parched mouth.
The waitress returns with a coffee for him in a tiny takeout cup.
They must know one another as they talk briefly about the state of the church allotment.
Giovanni says he has volunteered to help clean it up in a few days’ time.
‘Did I see you talking to Rosie? She’s Theo’s girlfriend – I mean, fiancée. I saw you by the church,’ Fenna says, when they are alone.
‘The English girl? Sì, I bumped into her inside.’ He leans forward and fixes his dark eyes on her. Her heart beats quicker. ‘She was looking at Signorina Dixon’s memorial. I wasn’t sure if she was about to do something like your husband did.’
She remembers him coming to the house to talk to Luke about pulling the appeal poster down the night he went to the bar with Theo and Rosie at the start of the holiday.
‘Boys will be boys,’ she says, taking another sip, hating herself for echoing Marianne’s words, and for defending her husband when she wasn’t there and doesn’t know what happened. It doesn’t sound like something Luke would do, but then again, he has been acting strange recently.
‘Hmm. I remember your husband as a young man. Be careful of him, he still thinks he owns this place.’ He sips his coffee, not breaking eye contact.
‘Any news on Carla?’ she asks, wanting to change the subject and not be dragged into some teenage drama that they should have left in the past.
‘Maybe.’
‘What do you mean?’
He glances around. ‘This is confidential information.’
‘You can trust me to keep a secret.’
Is she flirting with him? Is that what’s happening right now? She presses her cold glass to her lips, hoping the heat in her face subsides.
He clears his throat. ‘Carla’s bank card has been used in Pisa so we’re trying to track her down there.’
‘So she’s ok?’ Fenna says, remembering the theory that Carla had a row with her boyfriend and went to visit family. ‘That’s a relief.’
Giovanni gives a half shrug. ‘We’ll know more soon. But if you do think of anything that might help us find her, here is my number.’ He hands her a business card that she tucks into her pocket. ‘You had another baby?’ he asks, peering at Raffi, his features softening.
‘Yes, a little boy.’
Her phone chimes to life with a call from Luke. She jumps and is instantly embarrassed at her reaction. Why does it feel like she’s been caught doing something she shouldn’t? Giovanni smiles.
She silences her phone – she’ll call Luke back when she’s alone – and finishes the rest of her coffee, wrapping the pastry in a napkin to have later. She gets to her feet, knocking the table in her haste.
‘I should go. Thanks again.’
‘Of course. Anytime. Take care, Fenna.’ He leans over and kisses her on the cheek. ‘Ciao.’
Her clammy hands grip the pushchair handle as she rushes away in the opposite direction, praying that her heart will stop pounding.