Under a Tuscan Sky Read online

  ‘But I don’t believe it; you’ve never done anything so impulsive. I can’t believe you finished with Will. Are you sure?’

  Olivia clenched her teeth, gazing at her friend. ‘Oh, Chiara, I’ve gone mad haven’t I?’

  ‘No, not at all. I’m surprised, just totally surprised.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know now. I’ve had a somewhat strange but liberating weekend, that’s all. And I didn’t want to disturb you and Liam. If you really want to know, it started on Friday night when I got out my passport and stuff to organize my next trip. I was going to phone Will for the hundredth time to try and get an answer about our flight to Italy, but I found some photos my mum gave me of Nonna and Nonno, and her and dad. God, it now seems so … what’s the word, fatalistic, something along those lines. I’m not sure what affected me exactly but their photo captivated me.’

  Olivia bit her lip, looking serious. ‘Their eyes always seemed to lock together rather than at the person taking the picture or the camera, which is sweet and so suggestive of their own little world entwined in love. It made me think of the story you told me when you and Liam went to stay at Nonna’s farm in May, you know, when she told you they used to hide under the vines to make out. Seriously, it’s haunting.’

  ‘Oh, you sound as though you have given this lots of thought.’

  ‘You could say that. I did lots of mulling over at the weekend. Well, I’ve naturally been doing lots since Nonna’s death, but seeing those photos made me take a good look at myself, a bit of soul-searching if you like, and …’ Clicking her fingers and lifting her chin, Olivia burst into a loud song, ‘I’m “gonna make dat change.”’

  She waited for Chiara’s response, but her friend didn’t speak. ‘Do you think I’ve lost it? I’ve been dreaming, no I’ve been deluding myself I was in love with Will. But it’s not love. There was never any magic. And, if I’m honest, I don’t think he really loved me.’

  Chiara stared, hands on hips. ‘Whoa! Sounds deep and … so sudden. Liv, you haven’t lost it. But, what have you done? Poor Will, I expect he’s hurt? And, well …’

  Olivia scrunched her face and shook her head as she impulsively continued to dance. Chiara was probably as confused as Will had been. This change of heart had come out of the blue. She had never acted so impulsively before and she knew why Chiara found it difficult to comprehend.

  ‘His pride maybe hurt, but he didn’t seem too bothered when I told him. Although he may have been half asleep when I rang. I think he was tanked up with alcohol. He’ll get over it. I’m being true to myself for once in my life, and what’s more I’m going to Italy on my own.’

  ‘Look, I’m with your decision – I’m just not sure where my friend, the overly cautious Olivia is and, well, the other factor. I don’t know, perhaps grief has the answer. You must be upset, stressed.’

  Raising her nose in the air, Olivia tittered. ‘Maybe, but it’s actually quite refreshing as well as liberating. But really, do I need need a man in tow?’ Olivia picked up her coffee and boogied into her office, proud of her commitment to herself.

  Darling Chiara, her pseudo-sister, her rock as always. Since school from four years old, their relationship was solid since they’d both discovered they had Italian families. Olivia heard their younger voices chattering inside her head. Chiara had started the friendship. ‘My daddy is in a country called Italy. He’s staying with his mummy and daddy because he’s there for work. He is going for …’ Chiara counted with four fingers ‘… four days. He comes home on a aeroplane on the Friday.’

  ‘So is my daddy. He lives in the Italy but I don’t think he wants to come home … ever or ever. Mummy had to go to find him and then …’

  ‘No you can’t have both your daddy and mummy in Italy – you’ll be all on your own.’

  ‘Well I do,’ four-year-old Olivia told her matter-of-factly.

  ‘So, I’ll have to look after you then.’ Chiara was like a lioness to her cub, and so generously had made time for her ever since those early days. They had become like sisters.

  As she strolled into her office, her mind leapt back to the present, and she squinted as the sun glistened brightly on her desk. She still felt proud of her practice, five years on.

  Chiara raced behind her, taking off her jacket and placing it on the coat stand by the door before following her. ‘Just be careful. Surely with everything you’ve been through with your nonna’s death, the funeral, and everything to sort out, you aren’t feeling yourself? Think about it, Liv, it’s been a terrible few weeks. And, I’m sure Will probably thinks you need some space after all the stress. I think you’ll miss him, and what’s more …’ Chiara licked her lips ‘… remember, you’re now forty, and the biological clock is ticking. You’ll have to meet someone and …’

  Olivia shut her eyelids for several seconds. Those words. Chiara knew she detested them. ‘That can’t influence it. I’ve thought it through. I’ve already come to terms with the fact that I’ll never be a mother. It’s not the be-all and end-all. Clearly, I’m like my mum: I don’t think I have maternal bone in my body. And, like her, I could find myself wanting to abandon my child.’

  It was shameful to think it had been another reason for staying with Will for the last three years, especially when there were so many doubts in her mind about motherhood. If she couldn’t have that someone special to help her bring up children, what would be the point? It was better to make a clean break, make different life choices.

  And Will would have the freedom to find a richer relationship for himself. Besides, there could be a reason he spent weekends and evenings at work and football. Chiara may fight her over it, but that much was true. He didn’t want to be with her.

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous. You’re making excuses. It was probably circumstance rather than something from your mum’s genes. You love my Sophia and I’m sure you’ll love this one,’ Chiara said rubbing her rounded tummy with her hand. ‘Just because she left you in England with your dad’s parents doesn’t mean you would do the same. That’s absurd. She was young and must have had her reasons. Liv, surely you don’t want to be on your own for the rest of your life. Perhaps the romance just got a bit lost, like it did with me and Liam for a few years. Perhaps a break to Italy is what you both need right now to rekindle that romance.’

  Olivia smiled affectionately at her friend’s persistence and at the memory of Chiara and Liam’s trip to her nonna’s farm in the spring whilst she looked after eight-year-old Sophia, their daughter. The excitement they both exuded on their return had been palpable. It had definitely reignited the romance in their relationship. In fact, it had prompted both a wedding date and plans for another baby. The latter had emerged sooner, but the order was of little consequence to them – the difference being that Chiara was deeply in love with Liam, as he was with her. Italy had certainly worked its magic for them.

  Olivia took out her phone from her handbag, punched in her PIN, and tapped something on her ‘Wedding’ list for her future chief bridesmaid speech at Chiara and Liam’s wedding. ‘Chiara, it’s done. Will and I are finished. I may regret it but I don’t want to think in that way. He did ask to see me yesterday but I refused. I don’t want him to persuade me. I know you care, but I’ve dug deep and taken a big leap of faith in myself.’

  Olivia placed her coffee mug on a coaster on her desk. It had a picture of a skier in a bikini, and underneath it read, “At your age, people expect you to be mature, wise, and sensible – Disillusion them.” She smirked as she lifted her head and looked at the clock. ‘Who knows, maybe I’ll have some fun.’

  She looked at the clock. ‘I need to get ready for Mrs Getts.’ Olivia opened her cupboard and took out a hanger containing a clean uniform: a pair of white trousers and a white tunic with navy piping. She headed for the cloakroom door inside the spacious office, but – like a dog with a bone – Chiara needed to scrape out the marrow, and as Olivia washed her hands in the modern square washbasin, her friend p
ersisted.

  ‘Please, Liv. Take some time to think. You deserve to be happy, of course you do, but give Will a chance to put things right. You’d be stupid to let him go and him, you. I do feel sure you can make it work. I’m the same age and having a child.’

  With wet hands, Olivia grabbed a paper towel and peered around the door. Chiara was finding all this hard to accept. ‘Don’t feel responsible. A decision is made and I will manage. It’s not going to work with Will – ever. Accept it. What is the point of having a child anyway if our relationship isn’t sound now? He’ll take a few weeks off football and go back to it; I know he will. That’s what he did before.’

  Chiara stood gazing at her with her cheeks puffing out. ‘Really? I still can’t believe it. In just a few days, you seem so resolved.’

  Gazing at her reflection in the mirror, Olivia pinched her cheeks. She didn’t look or feel forty – a few lines, but barely any signs of grey in her hair. She kept herself fit by running every day and according to Will, she was still attractive. She smoothed her chin, running her hands up to her ears. Doubt nibbled. Was she capable of looking after herself? Was she really prepared? Was Chiara right? Should she just settle for Will and try for a family?

  ‘I am resolved, really. Trust me. I was probably only in love with the idea of being in love.’

  ‘Liv, one photo and you’re being dramatic. You barely knew your Italian grandparents compared to Nora and Ronnie, here. I can’t understand how they are influencing you so much. And Will … I just hope you don’t live to regret it. Jesus, you’re no spring chicken.’

  Turning to face her friend, Olivia took a deep breath before the sting hurt. ‘Thanks for that, dearest friend. The least you can do is respect my wishes.’ She marched over to a fitted wall cupboard.

  Chiara skipped close behind and stepped in front of her. ‘I’m sorry. That came out wrong. I love you, I like to tell you straight, and I care.’ Chiara then opened her arms, leaning forward to give her business partner and close friend a hug. ‘Oh God, I hope you haven’t gone mad, Liv? I’m sorry.’

  Liv squeezed Chiara’s shoulders. ‘I’m only letting you off because you’re hormonal. I’ve woken up, that’s all. Will was forever making excuses and pulling delay tactics. It needed addressing and now I need to move on. I’m making a fresh start and going to Italy without him. It will do me good, I’m sure. Besides, clearing out Nonna’s house could be therapeutic. It might take me longer on my own but I have to do it – the agent emailed this morning. He has people waiting to see it.’

  ‘Oh, Liv. I wish I could be more use but with two of us away, the business doesn’t work. I suppose I sort of understand. If your heart isn’t in it. And poor you having all that crap to deal with; you haven’t even been over there long enough to be fluent in the everyday language, let alone the legal jargon.’

  ‘Stop worrying about me. You have your own expanding family to think of now, soon-to-be Mrs Watts.’ Olivia gently pressed her hand on her friend’s baby bump before picking up and pulling her trousers off their hanger. ‘Mrs Chiara Watts, sexy wife to Liam, marvellous mother to Sophia and bump, and unarguably the most amazing domesticated goddess that ever lived.’

  ‘Of course. And still pseudo-sis to the amazing Olivia Montague. Just be sure to call me if you need help in Italy.’

  ‘I will, silly.’

  ‘And I want to know everything. The lawyer will know; grill him. It still strikes me as odd that your mother doesn’t take responsibility for the estate or want her inheritance. I mean, at least you lived with Nora and Ronnie – you knew much more about their affairs.’

  ‘Yes, well we both know my mum has always been odd. That will never change.’

  ‘Yes, but then dragging you away from the funeral like that, and me. She’s totally gaga.’

  ‘Well, like we said before, maybe she has remarried and doesn’t want her new husband to know about me. I don’t know. Maybe she is ashamed to let any of her friends or Nonna’s friends know she has a daughter. Who knows? She flits around so much I don’t suppose she had anyone long-term in her life. None of what she does makes sense to me. Never has.’

  Chapter 3

  The next few days flew by and Olivia was beginning to feel and act like she was more in control, like a bird inching out of the nest. She had taken the first step and, somehow, she would manage clearing Nonna’s possessions and property, even drive without relying on Will or Chiara’s input.

  Emptying and tidying her desk late Thursday afternoon, before her flight early Friday morning, she realized fate or instinct had intervened – just like it had when setting up the business with Chiara five years ago. Back then she’d received the inheritance from her London grandparents who had virtually raised her.

  Olivia had insisted they go equal partners in the business when Chiara wasn’t able to equal the funding she had put in. But to her, the guiding principle was she wished to share the good fortune with her friend, after all Chiara had shared with her. She’d told her that sharing the skills and burden of a new business was equally important. Eventually Chiara was convinced, and so their Osteopathic Clinic was born. It was a fifty-fifty commitment.

  Like that obligation, there was no doubt sometimes she would get it wrong and find herself struggling, particularly – she imagined – when driving in Italy. Chiara had aired concerns again during the week, Olivia recalled.

  ‘Naturally, I worry you’ve been stressed and you’re still grieving. I wouldn’t want you to go into one of your panics,’ Chiara had said.

  ‘It’s very kind of you, but honestly, I’ll have a satnav in the car and I need to work at it,’ she’d told her. ‘I’ll take it slowly.’

  She loved Chiara, but wondered if she was becoming overprotective, or whether it had become such a habit she couldn’t shake it. Nonetheless, she was beginning to feel like a child. Unless, of course, something in her had changed.

  ‘I’m sure clearing Nonna’s things will help. It’ll be therapeutic, certainly less emotionally draining than Gran and Grandad’s. At least I wasn’t so attached to Nonna.’ Olivia had hugged her friend. ‘OK. Appointments reshuffled where necessary. I should be a couple of weeks max.’

  Chiara had stepped back and leaned against Olivia’s desk. ‘We’ll miss you. Skype or DM me if anything changes,’ she’d said folding her arms, ‘and don’t do anything outrageous. My heart and hormones won’t take it.’

  ‘I’ll try not to. Let me grow up, sis.’

  ***

  Leaving the office a little early allowed her to pop in to the Bureau de Change, and Boots the chemist on the way, for euros and last-minute toiletries. She was arranging small piles of clothes on her freshly laundered bed when she heard Will’s key in the front door and his familiar kick of the door.

  ‘Will?’

  ‘Yup.’

  ‘I’m upstairs packing.’

  ‘Is it OK to come up?’

  ‘Don’t be facetious; of course it is.’ She picked up her phone with her ‘packing’ list and ticked off two items. ‘Charger and spare,’ she mouthed, heading for the bedside table. ‘Oh, best put that in in the morning,’ she muttered, leaving a charger beside her bed.

  She then opened the drawer, picking up her passport and two small purses. Taking them around to the bottom of the bed, she opened an envelope and, removing half the notes, stashed them into one purse, placing it into a pocket in the side of the suitcase, then stashed the other wad of notes into the other small purse and inserted it into a side pocket of her handbag and zipped it up.

  Turning and straightening up, she saw that Will – out of breath – was at the door, dressed in his grey suit. He looked so handsome in a suit. She sighed. ‘You’ve not been home yet?’

  ‘No. Thought I would drop this in before you leave. Wouldn’t want you obsessing about your key and security whilst you’re away.’

  ‘Thanks. That’s very thoughtful of you,’ she said, reaching for the front door k
ey in his hand, and curling back her tongue to keep the sarcasm contained. ‘I’ve got packing to do but would you like a coffee? Beer?’

  Sucking in his breath as he observed the various piles on her bed, he said, ‘No, I’ll let you get on. I know you have a lot to do.’ He signalled with his head and transferred his weight from one foot to the other before he said, ‘Just one thing. I would like you to give me another chance. I’m sorry I let you down when you needed me. I would really like to join you in Italy and offer my support.’

  Glaring at his apologetic face for several seconds, her resolve briefly weakened. He did seem to care. But then she remembered all the discussions and excuses that she’d heard over the last few weeks and how those photos had captivated her. Now, it seemed, he felt the need to show his hand and it wasn’t the hand she wanted.

  ‘It’s too late. I’m not going to change my mind,’ she said, swiping her phone and selecting a list. Then concentrating with her tongue licking the side of her mouth, she said, ‘Ah, here we are: “door key”.’ She tapped the screen to strike through the item. Having the phone to hand was a comforting distraction but she had to be firm. There was no use giving him any snippet of hope. ‘I made it perfectly clear, Will,’ she said glancing back at him, and watching his Adam’s apple as he swallowed. ‘It’s for the best.’

  ‘How do you know it’s for the best? You’re still upset about your nonna and I appreciate it isn’t easy for you, but you know I love you and I want to be with you, marry you. You’ve made a split-second decision that will affect us for the rest of our lives. All those plans … Now that Chiara is having a baby, I thought you might change your mind too. I wasn’t going to mention it yet, what with your nonna just passed away.’

  Fighting back a sad but not sorry tear, Olivia slid the phone into her jeans pocket. ‘Will, that just proves to me that you really don’t know me. What makes you think you always know what’s best for me? What do you know about what I need? Why would I want to start a family when I’m not even in a relationship with a man who loves and supports me, who makes the effort to see me? I’m not going back on my decision, so if you don’t mind, I will get on with my packing. I still have lots to do.’