When the captain announces we’re landing, Mum wakes up, stretches, smiles and then suddenly looks a bit confused.
‘Everyone okay?’ she asks us across the aisle.
Frowning, she pulls her hair out of the ponytail it’s been in since she came home from work last night. The band has actually left a bit of a ring around her hair, even after she’s run her hands through it.
‘We’re fine,’ Elyse says. ‘You okay? I can’t believe you slept the whole way.’
‘I haven’t been sleeping very well,’ she says, leaning forward to look out of the window as we land.
I pull everything out of the pocket on the back of the seat in front to make sure I haven’t left anything. Leonie snatches the magazine out of my hand and starts flicking through it, as I put the other bits back in and then check my phone in my pocket.
‘Did they say what the weather was going to be like?’ Leonie asks. ‘I missed it.’
‘Hot,’ Elyse says, tipping her head back and closing her eyes, ready for landing.
‘Good,’ Mum says and closes her eyes too.
I lean forward and look out of the window as the ground comes closer and closer and then brace myself for the bump as we land.
Stefano’s arranged for a car to pick us up from the airport. But we all stand outside for a few moments, just feeling the sun on our faces.
‘It smells different here,’ Leonie says, pulling her sunglasses out of her bag.
‘That’s jet fuel,’ Elyse says.
‘Pfft,’ Leonie says. She actually says ‘pfft’. ‘It’s Italy.’
‘It’s good to be back,’ Mum says quietly, her sunglasses hiding her eyes.
And it is. We first came when we were all small. I don’t remember anything about it except that it was really hot and Leonie whinged about it the whole time. Since then we’ve come almost every year. We used to stay in the hotel Dad had worked in, but since Alice met Stefano we’ve stayed at San Georgio. At least a week every summer, longer if Mum could get off work. Which she used to. Sometimes. But not any more.
In the car, Elyse texts and Mum closes her eyes again, but Leonie and I stare out of the windows. The first half of the journey is just motorway, but once we get to the outskirts of Rome, I start to feel excitement bubbling up inside. Leonie points out pizzerias and gelaterias, while I stare at the pink and peach and cream and terracotta buildings and think about Dad. I can’t believe he’s not here with us. I can hear him talking about the history, making up stupid facts about different buildings and stories about people sitting outside cafes or screaming past us on mopeds.
It’s ridiculous, I know, but I almost feel like he’s going to be here. He’ll be waiting for us at San Georgio. He’ll have flowers for Mum because he knows she’ll be annoyed that he tricked us, but we’ll be so happy to see him that we’ll all grab him and hug him and the flowers will get ruined.
I know it’s not going to happen. I know he’s gone. But part of me just can’t believe it. How can it be real that I’m never going to see him again?
I hadn’t realised I was crying until Leonie reaches out and wipes a tear off my cheek with her finger – and then she licks it.
‘Oh my god,’ I say. ‘You are gross.’
Leonie just shrugs and then rests her head on my shoulder again. I rub my face against the top of her head. She’s totally disgusting, but I love her so much.
The closer we get to the square, the tighter the roads get. I can never actually believe that cars can go down some of the streets they go down in Rome. There are cars and mopeds parked on both sides, along with tourists wandering around without looking. The streets leading to Campo de’ Fiori are cobbled and it’s the feeling of the car rattling over the cobbles that really brings it home to me that we’re in Rome. And in just a few minutes we’re going to see Alice and Toby and Stefano.
And Luke. I feel sick.
We pass our favourite gelateria – Leonie got totally addicted to their cherry meringue flavour last time we were here – and she presses her face up to the car window, making puppyish whimpering noises.
The driver stops in front of the flower stalls at the end of the square and we all clamber out of the car, waiting as he gets our luggage out of the boot. I start to look around the square, but I have to stop. It’s too overwhelming. It’s busy and noisy, but it’s just so Rome – which is so Dad – that missing him physically hurts. My stomach feels hollow and empty and I want to curl up and cry. I feel someone’s arms wrap around me from behind and then Elyse says, ‘I miss him too,’ into my ear.
I let out a sob and she squeezes me. Leonie presses up against my side. I look at Mum, but she’s got her arms wrapped around herself and the expression on her face makes my heart hurt.Then Alice is directly in front of us, flinging herself at Mum, and I can see a blurry Stefano through my tears and I wipe my face and let him hug me hello.
For a few minutes it’s all just hugging and kissing and giggling. I always forget how absolutely gorgeous Stefano is: big brown eyes, wavy brown hair, stubble, lovely lips and the accent, of course. It takes some getting used to. Plus he smells amazing, like smoke and basil and oregano. But he squeezes me and kisses the top of my head and laughs with Mum and Alice and by the time we’re inside the restaurant I’ve stopped thinking about it. Mostly. (He really is very gorgeous.)
The terrace in front of the restaurant is crammed with tourists, bowls of olives and glasses of beer on the table in front of them. We go inside through the side door and it takes my eyes a few seconds to adjust to the relative darkness. It’s much cooler inside and much less busy. The locals – people we’ve seen here ever year, but never really spoken to – are standing at the bar with their coffees. They nod and smile at us and I see a man reach out to pinch Leonie’s cheek, but she yanks her head out of the way. I laugh. She wouldn’t have done that last year; he would’ve pinched her and she would’ve complained about it for the rest of the day. I hear her mutter ‘Back off, grandad,’ as we walk on and Mum must hear her too because she gives her a sharp look.
The restaurant is always exactly the same: bare brick walls, arched mirrors that look like windows, strings of white lights on the ceiling and red tablecloths on the round tables, white napkins folded into the wine glasses. At the far end of the room, the kitchen is open and bright with chrome and non-atmospheric lighting, but it’s empty right now.
We follow Alice and Stefano right through the restaurant and out to the back garden, which is where they’re getting married. Unlike the restaurant itself, the garden has changed a bit since we were here last year. The terrace with its white wrought-iron seating now has a pergola over the top, which is covered with vines, bunches of purple flowers tumbling down, throwing the tables into shade.
‘Sit down,’ Stefano tells Mum and Alice. ‘I’ll get us drinks. Are you hungry?’ he asks and then shakes his head. ‘I’ll just bring food.’
‘We’re fine,’ Mum says, but we all know she doesn’t mean it. Stefano’s food is amazing. None of us would dream of turning it down, whether we were hungry or not.
Mum and Alice sit at the table on the edge of the garden.
‘Toby’s out there,’ Alice tells me, Leonie and Elyse, so we head down the two steps into the main garden area.
The willow trees in the corners of the garden have grown so much that the garden seems much more private. The highest wall is covered with a climbing plant dotted with huge white flowers and just in front of it is a stone fountain that wasn’t there last year.
But the most important thing is at the far end: our cousin Toby, lying on his back in a patch of bright sunshine, his hands behind his head and feet crossed at the ankles.
‘Sorry to disturb you, dickhead,’ Leonie says, dropping down to the ground next to him and immediately digging her fingers into his waist to tickle him. He’s always been ridiculously ticklish.
‘Piss off,’ he says, slapping her hands away, but then he sits up and gets her into a headlock. ‘Bloody hell, Leonie,’ he says, pushing her away from him. ‘You look like a girl again!’
Last year, Leonie had her hair cropped just before we went to Italy. It was very short and Toby took the piss out of her the entire time. Now her hair is chin length and actually suits her much better.
Elyse and I sit down on the grass too and Toby beams at us both. ‘It’s so good to see you!’
‘You too,’ I say, smiling at Leonie, who is trying to fix her hair where Toby scuffed his hands through it.
‘Where’s Luke?’ Elyse asks. And I tell myself to remember to slap her for it later.
‘Just coming now,’ Toby says, gesturing behind us.
I want to turn around, but I can’t. I won’t. I look down at the grass and focus on a single blade, longer than the rest. I tuck my hands under my thighs and feel the grass pricking the backs of my fingers.
‘Hey,’ Luke says, dropping to the ground next to Toby.
‘Stefano sent these,’ he says, holding up a cardboard carton of Coke in bottles. I think he’s even taller than last year – or maybe he’s thinner? His hair is still long; it’s tucked back behind his ears, but it’s probably as long as mine, almost to his shoulders. And he’s still beautiful. Cheekbones and dark blue eyes and full pink lips.
‘They’re cold,’ he says. ‘Just got them out of the fridge.’
‘Thanks,’ Elyse says, taking one.
My hands are still under my thighs and I’m starting to think about wriggling them out, when Luke holds a bottle out towards me. I pull one hand out from under my leg and reach to take the bottle from him, focussing on a droplet of condensation rolling down the outside of the glass, rather than looking at Luke. Some Coke bubbles over the top of the bottle and runs down the back of my hand.
‘Oops,’ I say without thinking, tipping my hand to let it run off.
‘Hi,’ Luke says, his voice low.
I force myself to meet his eyes and I feel that flip in my stomach again. The flip I always feel – have always felt – when Luke looks at me. He smiles and his smile is still the same too: slow and sexy and the flip in my stomach moves lower.
I pull my eyes away from Luke and focus on Toby. He asks us about the journey and we ask him about working in the restaurant – how busy it’s been, how much they get to go out, the wedding preparations. And then he’s off, telling us hilarious stories about dresses and food and music and the new stone fountain Alice wanted and Stefano couldn’t get right, and I listen to him and think about the first time I ever saw Luke.
It was in Aunt Alice’s garden in her house in London, before she and Toby had moved out to be with Stefano full-time. It was one of those summers when it seemed to be golden and warm and beautiful every day and Alice started having barbecues almost every evening. Neighbours and friends and family would just drop in, bringing burgers and sausages and beer and wine – and Luke was there with Toby.
I saw him as soon as we walked out through the French doors and onto the raised decking. He was down on the grass, standing in front of the impromptu goal Toby had set up with a couple of folding chairs and a yard brush. He was wearing white football shorts, a black T-shirt and white socks. His trainers were on the decking, just in front of where I was standing. Even though he and Toby were just in socks, they were having a kickabout while everyone else either stood around the edges of the garden or up on the decking where the barbecue and the drinks were.
Toby and Luke had been friends for years. Luke had been at school with Toby but then his parents split up and he and his Mum moved out of London, but Luke seemed to spend most weekends round at Aunt Alice’s with Toby. For a while I wondered if they were a couple and I hated that I hated the idea of it because I wanted Toby to be happy. But I wanted Luke more.
Dad was there; he joined in for a bit, messing about and showing off rather than playing seriously. I liked how Luke joined in the messing around with Dad. Sometimes if parents get involved in something like that, people roll their eyes or act like they’re embarrassed, but Luke and Toby just treated Dad like one of the lads. Before too long, other men had joined in and then some little kids and it was chaos.
I remember noticing Mum watching Dad and she looked so proud. I knew how much she loved him. He must have noticed her too because when he scored a goal – a completely ridiculous one that bounced off the shed door and knocked over a plant pot – he ran over and picked her up and twirled her round. Later on, just as it was getting dark, the solar lights hanging in the trees and dotted around the edge of the lawn glowing white, Alice put some music on and Dad sang along, pretending to use the barbecue tongs as a microphone. He didn’t need a microphone – his voice was more than a match for the acoustics of Alice’s garden.
‘Milly,’ Elyse says, bumping me with her shoulder.
‘Sorry, what?’
‘Are you okay?’ Elyse says. ‘I thought you’d gone into a trance.’
‘Sorry,’ I say again. ‘I was just thinking about something and I spaced out.’
‘Obviously,’ Leonie says, laughing.
‘Sorry. I’m tired,’ I say, glancing at Luke.
‘Why don’t you go up to your room?’ Toby says. ‘Get settled in and then have some food when you come down later.’
‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘Yeah, I think I will. Thanks.’
I tip my head back and squint up at the bright blue sky. A couple of seagulls squawk overhead. I always forget there are seagulls in Rome.
‘I’m staying here,’ Leonie says. ‘In the sunshine!’ She lies back down on the grass, closing her eyes.
‘I’m going to stay for a bit too,’ Elyse says. ‘Is that okay?’
‘Oh, I’ll stay as well then,’ I say, looking at my sisters.
‘Oh, god, go,’ Elyse says. ‘We’re only going to be in the garden, we won’t go anywhere without you.’
‘No, I’ll –’ I start to say.
‘Go,’ Leonie says. ‘We’ll stay here. Promise.’
I nod. I really do want to go and have a lie down. ‘Okay.’
I stand up and brush at my leggings in case there’s grass sticking to them. Leonie lies back down and says, ‘See you later.’
On the terrace, Alice and Stefano fret over me a bit too – Mum’s in the bathroom, apparently – but I tell them I’m fine, just tired, and manage to extricate myself and go up to my room. Elyse is sharing a room with Mum and I’m sharing with Leonie. We’ve stayed in this room before, but last time Elyse had to squeeze in with us too – because Dad was with Mum – so there’s a lot more space this time. I close the huge window that looks out over the square, and the room is suddenly so quiet that I open the window again to test the difference. Window open: shouting, laughter, music, mopeds revving; window closed: dead silence.
I close the internal shutters, plunging the room into darkness, kick off my shoes and lie down on top of the quilt, staring up at the ceiling where a line of yellow light shines from the space at the top of the shutters. I suddenly don’t feel as tired any more, and I know immediately that I won’t fall asleep. I put on the bedside light and pick up my bag, rummaging in the internal pockets until I find the tiny pot with Dad’s ashes. I’d been worried that they might set alarms off at the airport, but they didn’t, thank god. I run my fingers over the top of the pot and then lie back down, holding it in my hand.
Since I know I’m not going to sleep, I should probably go back downstairs and join everyone else, but I don’t. I stay in my room. I stay and think about Dad. And Luke. At Alice’s barbecue.
By the time Dad started singing I was sitting on the wooden steps, feeling a bit woozy from the heat and the one glass of wine Mum had allowed me to have, but feeling really lucky and happy. Elyse was going out with a boy called Rio at the time – he was leaning on the fence and she was leaning back against him with his arms around her waist. Leonie was sitting on the grass cuddling a little white dog someone had brought along. Luke came over and sat down next to me. He felt warm. Even though he didn’t touch me at all, I could feel the heat coming off him. He said, ‘Your dad’s really cool.’ And I laughed. It was the perfect thing to say, obviously. I think I managed to squeak out something like ‘He’s all right, yeah.’ And then we just sat there, listening to Dad singing.
I wish I could remember what song he sang. I should ask Elyse or Leonie. Or Mum or Alice. It’s the only detail I really don’t remember. When whatever song it was finished, Luke stood up and as he did his leg brushed against mine. I was wearing a dress and it was like getting an electric shock. He glanced back over his shoulder, grinned and said, ‘See you later.’ And then Dad called me to go up and sing with him. I shook my head – I didn’t even trust my legs to get me up off the steps and across the garden – and then someone changed the CD and people started dancing and the moment was gone.
I lie there in my huge bed in Rome for a while before I give up and cross the room to look out of the window and down at the square. But all I can think of is Dad standing down there, looking up at me, singing that stupid Cornetto song.
I spend the next hour or so lying on my bed and reading a book on my phone until my eyes start to get hot. I put my phone to one side and I’ve just closed my eyes to try to nap again, when Leonie bursts in. She throws herself on the bed next to me and I bounce on the mattress.
‘Wake up, sleepyhead,’ she says, her mouth right next to my ear.
‘I haven’t even been to sleep,’ I say into the pillow. ‘I literally just closed my eyes. Why are you such a pain in the arse?’
‘You love me,’ she says.
‘Unfortunately,’ I say. I roll over and scoot myself back against the padded headboard and squeeze the satin quilt in my hands.
‘So what’ve you been doing?’ she says. ‘Wanking?’ She gets up and opens the internal shutters, flooding the room with light.
‘Oh my GOD, Leonie!’ I say, squeezing my eyes shut.
‘Not my fault you’re repressed,’ she says. ‘I thought that’s what you’d come up here for. Saw Luke again, looking all hot and holding those Coke bottles with the water dribbling down them all seductively …’ She looks at me under her eyelashes and pouts. ‘I thought you were overwhelmed with lust.’
‘Stop talking now.’
‘Seriously though,’ Leonie says, swinging around the bed so her head is dangling upside-down off the side. ‘He’s ridiculously sexy. And he likes you.’
I roll my eyes. ‘He doesn’t.’
She frowns. ‘He does. I bet you … something I’ve got that you want.’
‘You haven’t got anything I want,’ I say, smiling.
‘No? Natural charm? Black toenails? Perfect pitch?’ She grins at me.
‘You haven’t got perfect pitch,’ I say. ‘I’ve got perfect pitch.’
‘Oh, yeah,’ she says, lying back down. ‘I forgot. It’s been so long since I’ve heard you sing.’
Not that again. ‘I’m going for a shower. You lie there and think about something you can bet me.’
‘Oh yeah,’ she says. ‘A shower …’ And then she does an over-the-top wink.
I throw my pillow at her.
When I come out of the bathroom, wrapped in one of the amazing fluffy cotton robes Alice bought for every room, Leonie has got the window open and she’s leaning out. The room is a mess – Leonie’s literally just upended her bag on her bed. I pick up one of her dresses and hang it up in the wardrobe.
‘Stop tidying,’ Leonie says, without looking around. ‘Come and look.’
I go and stand next to her at the window and look out. The square is crammed with market stalls, selling everything from cheese and vegetables to baseball caps and handbags. Little half-van cars are buzzing around and getting held up by the pedestrians. There’s obviously a pizza stall somewhere down there because I can smell garlic and roasted tomato and someone’s singing an Italian song I don’t recognise – it might be a busker or it could easily just be one of the stallholders. The air is warm and I take a deep breath.
‘Could you live here?’ Leonie asks me.
I shake my head. ‘No. I don’t think so. It’s too different.’
‘The first time we came – remember? – you said you never wanted to leave.’
I look at her. She’s still looking down at the square.
‘There’s a difference between saying you never want to leave somewhere when you’re on holiday and actually really wanting to live there full-time. I like home.’
‘I do too. But I’d like an adventure.’
I laugh. ‘The idea of you on an adventure scares me.’
‘Maybe that’s what I should bet you. If Luke likes you, you’ll agree to have an adventure with me.’ She turns from the window and grins at me, pushing her long fringe out of her eyes.
‘I’d need to know a lot more about the adventure before I’d agree to that.’
She threads her arm through mine and rests her head on my shoulder. ‘I’ll think of something.’