Chapter 32 Fenna – Day 8
There is a pop of a Champagne cork and a whoop of joy.
Fenna longs to be holding a chilled flute up on the top deck of the luxury yacht with the others.
Instead, she is in a small windowless bathroom holding the baby and telling Alba to wash her hands or they’re going home.
For some reason, Luke decided to give Alba a syrupy red ice lolly in the car on the way to the lake.
Fenna has been having mild heart palpitations every time Alba goes near anything.
Everything inside the yacht is pristine cream.
Marianne is sulking, making a point of not coming to help with the kids.
Things are still frosty between the two women.
Despite Fenna apologising for raising her voice at her mother-in-law for giving Raffi a bottle of formula, she’s clearly still cross about the whole thing.
Luke said sorry for his part. He promised it was a lapse in judgement and he didn’t mean to upset Fenna.
For the sake of the rest of the holiday, if nothing else, they need to try and make peace.
Fenna takes a deep breath and mentally counts to ten, wishing Julietta was here to lend a hand. When she asked if she could join the family for the day out, she was told that ‘Julietta doesn’t like going to the lake’.
It seems a lot of the locals have superstitions about coming here. What started as rumours that Danielle Dixon is somewhere in the waters has since become an urban legend. Nothing has ever been confirmed by the police, but it was enough to drive tourism away and steal livelihoods.
But for Fenna, this opportunity to get onboard Dolce Vita was too good to miss. It reminds her of the shoots she did in her early twenties. Except back then she had bad-tempered photographers to manage instead of children with sticky fingerprints to worry about.
Richard gleefully gave everyone the tour when they arrived.
Most of what he said went over her head – thirty-two metres long, something about a cruising speed of twenty-six knots – but she did pay attention to where the wine fridge is located.
A quick Google search reveals that chartering the yacht for the week costs a cool sixty thousand euros.
The opulent boat has touches of luxury Italian design everywhere, from the gold-plated door handles to the sumptuous fabric on the plump sun loungers on the upper deck.
The clang of the bell calls everyone to lunch.
The rich scent of barbequed meat and smoked fish skewers hits her as she carefully climbs the steps with the children to the upper deck.
The men have congregated at one end of the dinner table and the women at the other.
Luke helps strap Alba into the travel highchair beside him.
Fenna cradles Raffi in her arms, finding a shaded spot to rock him to sleep.
Richard is pointing out their holiday home to Rosie, waving his arm in the direction of the dense woodland on the other side of the water.
‘So, what else has been happening on your holiday?’ Evelyn asks, passing over the bread basket. Her many gold bracelets jangle on her wrist. ‘Apart from the exciting engagement news, of course.’
‘We’re all having a wonderful time so far,’ Gerry replies.
‘Good to hear it.’ Richard raises his glass in the air and proposes a toast, ‘To loyal friends and precious family.’
‘Well . . .’ Marianne draws a breath once everyone has clinked their crystal flutes.
She’s declined the plates of food being passed around.
Fenna looks on longingly. If she can get Raffi to have a nap she might be able to eat in peace.
‘The slightly worrying news is that one of our members of staff has gone missing.’
Fenna is surprised Marianne has brought this up.
Evelyn tries to frown through her Botox. ‘Who? What’s happened?’
‘Carla hasn’t been seen for five days and we’ve had no news about where she could be. The police are involved,’ Marianne explains.
‘That’s terrible. Carla? Isn’t that the one we recommended to you?’ Evelyn asks. ‘The name rings a bell.’
Luke coughs loudly. ‘Sorry, it went down the wrong way.’
The sound startles Raffi from his drowsy slumber. Fenna throws daggers at the back of Luke’s head.
‘Shhh, it’s ok,’ she says to her son, patiently, eyeing up the delicious spread that’s out of arm’s reach.
Everything is drenched in sunshine and olive oil.
Plump tomatoes sit against generous slices of mozzarella, there’s warm figs and rustic slices of bread, and a large bowl of spaghetti alle vongole, her favourite.
She can practically taste the gleaming strands of pasta and glossy clams garnished with red chillis.
Luke hasn’t thought to get her a plate ready.
‘Carla worked for you, too?’ Rosie asks Evelyn.
‘Sort of. She temped for us when one of our regular team was off sick. Common.’ She mouths the final word. ‘If you know what I mean?’
‘Do the police think it’s serious?’ Richard asks.
‘No idea. We are completely in the dark with it all,’ Gerry sighs.
He sounds nonchalant but the fact the police are involved proves this is more significant than they are letting on to their friends.
‘She’s been spotted in Pisa,’ Fenna cuts in. ‘Well, her bank card has. Maybe her phone, too.’
They turn to face her.
‘How do you know that?’ Luke asks.
Her heart thrums. She shouldn’t have shared the information Giovanni told her. She did it without thinking. She quickly swallows. ‘Julietta told me . . . Maybe she heard it from one of the locals?’
‘She did seem flighty.’ Evelyn purses her lips. ‘But you’d hope she would have the decency to hand in her notice. I know how hard it is to find the right staff that you can trust.’
‘Pisa, huh?’ Gerry muses. He dabs a napkin around his mouth, leaving an oily mark on the linen fabric.
‘That’s all I know.’ Fenna shrugs and focuses on the baby.
‘Wherever she is, I bet it’s brought back a lot of bad memories having a girl go missing during the anniversary week of Danielle Dixon disappearing?
How terrible,’ Evelyn soothes. ‘That was an awful time, wasn’t it.
Did you hear about this, Rosie? Danielle was a schoolgirl who snuck out in the middle of the night – supposedly to meet someone – and never came home. ’
‘It sounds like a terrible tragedy,’ Rosie says.
Theo draws her attention away and tells her the name of Italian delicacies on the table that she’s not tried before. They giggle over her pronunciation of certain words.
‘You can say that again. It’s been the worst PR for this amazing town,’ Evelyn continues.
Fenna glances over at her mother-in-law, bracing waiting for her to shut this conversation down. But Marianne sips her glass of wine and stares over the water. She looks as if she’s lost in her own world.
Richard clears his throat. ‘I don’t know why we’re all still talking about this case.
The foreign exchange teacher was behind it.
He had Danielle’s mobile phone on him when the police interviewed him.
And he was seen arguing with her.’ He starts to tick each piece of evidence off his tanned fingers.
A gold signet ring catches the light. ‘They were in a secret relationship and Danielle wanted to end it. The guy was married and double her age, don’t forget.
He had the strength to kill her and move her body .
. .’ He trails off, his eyes falling to the water.
‘Jeez. This chat’s gone heavy.’ Luke raises his eyebrows. ‘Theo, pass the wine.’
His brother looks up from the antipasto platter in front of him. Fenna’s stomach grumbles.
‘People think she’s in the lake because her things were found somewhere on the shore, if I remember rightly,’ Evelyn says.
‘A Polaroid camera and a denim jacket, covered in blood.’ Gerry wafts his fork.
Evelyn shrugs. ‘It doesn’t make sense to me.’
‘When someone disappears, a lot of things don’t make sense, darling.’ Richard puts the salad bowl on the table with a clatter.
‘Well,’ Gerry holds up his glass, ‘if I’m brutally honest, Danielle’s background has had a huge impact on the investigation.’
Fenna frowns. ‘What do you mean?’
‘If she was middle-class, instead of from a single income working-class family, more people would care that she’s still missing.
It came out that she was on a bursary at that private school, remember?
If anything, I’m pleased the local coppers are still trying to get answers.
I know the British police sees it as a closed case because it happened on Italian soil.
They’ve washed their hands of her,’ he concludes.
‘Maybe it’s about class, maybe not. You’ve got to agree that the police are clutching at straws if they think they’ll find something new fifteen years on,’ Richard says. ‘The money investigating this could be better spent elsewhere.’
‘Hmm. Well, someone knows. Someone has this on their conscience.’ Evelyn picks up the vinaigrette and offers it to Luke. ‘Would you like some, darling?’
He shakes his head.
‘Anyway, I’m sure Carla will show up. At least that pervert teacher isn’t a problem anymore,’ Gerry adds. Richard nods in agreement.
Rosie clears her throat. ‘But what if—’
‘Can we change the subject, please?’ Theo snaps.
Rosie flinches. Fenna’s never heard Theo raise his voice before. To anyone.
‘Theo?’ Richard says, frowning.
There’s an awkward pause. Rosie narrows her eyes, clearly irritated at the way Theo spoke to her in front of everyone.
‘We’re only making conversation,’ Evelyn says, with a light laugh.
‘Sorry.’ Theo dips his eyes. ‘Luke’s right, it’s a bit heavy.’
Marianne shifts in her seat. The leather crackles as she moves. ‘Carla will turn up, everything is fine. Now, let’s have a nice day.’ She lifts her half-empty glass to her lips. Fenna is sure she sees her hand trembling.