Briony hoped the trip into Tuana would answer some of her questions. Again, it was just the three of them, she, Luke and Aruna, and they’d come because Luke had cracked a tooth on an olive stone, but had managed to get an emergency appointment with a dentist in the town. The sun was high in the sky by the time they dropped Luke, so after buying some supplies and poking about in a gift shop, Briony and Aruna had fallen gratefully into chairs at a pavement café with an aspect across the main square. Icy lemonade revived them, though not to the extent of encouraging anything energetic.
‘Is the church open? The guidebook said there are wall paintings.’ Briony counted coins onto the table and nodded towards the sand-coloured Romanesque hulk that dominated the small paved square.
‘I’m too hot to even stand.’ With sunglasses, carmine lips and a gauzy scarf over her hair, Aruna looked like a film star travelling incognito and was drawing curious stares.
‘It’ll be cool inside,’ Briony coaxed. ‘And we have to see a bit of the town or there’s no point us all having come.’
‘Do we? That’s a difference between you and me. I’d be quite happy to collapse here till Luke’s ready. Have you finished with this?’ Without waiting for an answer she swallowed the last of Briony’s lemonade and grinned lazily at her. They’d been friends for so many years that they knew each other intimately. They’d shared a student flat and later a house together in London before getting places of their own. Aruna had been generous, drawing Briony into her huge circle of friends. She could be lazy about housework and had always been a great borrower of everything from shampoo to books, less good about returning them. Still, Briony had never really minded.
‘The church, come on, Aruna.’
‘OK, you bully.’ They collected up their bags and returned the waiter’s flirtatious ‘Ciao’ then drifted off across the square, Aruna still complaining about the heat.
It was open, and Briony was right. The shadowy interior of the building provided blissful relief from the fierce sun and she was surprised they were the only ones taking advantage of it. Aruna pulled off her scarf, pushed her sunglasses into her hair and dumped herself down on a chair in the nave from which to view her surroundings. Briony was more methodical, following the perimeter to study the statuary and the memorial slabs on the whitewashed walls. She came across the famed frescoes in a side chapel. They were a pair of simple scenes of saints standing amid flowers and trees, the colours still thrillingly bright after many centuries. She pondered the rapturous faces and tried to imagine how treasured the pictures must have been in their time by ordinary people, not for any financial value, but as visual aids to worship and prayer.
She was turning to go when a beautiful memorial slab on the wall near the altar lured her across. It was an oval of white marble etched with trails of gold-leaf flowers. The name on it was Antonio Mei and when she calculated the dates it touched her heart that he’d only been fifteen when he died. 1944, it had been.
She walked away with a feeling of melancholy and went to sit beside Aruna. ‘Have you got the guidebook?’ she whispered, her voice echoing in the space.
Aruna felt in her backpack. Briony flicked to the entry about the church and held the guide between them.
‘I love the translation.’
‘It’s great,’ Aruna said. ‘This bit, for instance: “A shell in 1943 destroyed part of the south aisle, but it has since been most happily restored.” Isn’t that a lovely phrase?’
They glanced along the right side of the church, but there was indeed no sign now of the bomb damage. Briony drew the book towards her. Her eye had snagged on the name Antonio Mei. She read on, quickly. Fifteen-year-old Antonio had lied about his age and tried to join the army. Later, he’d been killed in an accident and his grieving family had raised the money for the memorial.
She was brooding on this tragic story when a sudden sound made her look up. An elderly priest had entered the church through a door near the altar. He nodded at the two women and set about preparations for a service, so, after a minute, they got up, thanked him and left.
Outside, they sat on the steps in the shadow of a tree, taking turns to sip from Briony’s bottle of sparkling water. Briony studied the pictures in the guidebook. There was a town hall, apparently, but no mention of a museum.
‘So, Briony,’ Aruna interrupted. ‘Are you being “most happily restored” by this holiday?’
A bolt of panic shot through her. She waited and it passed. ‘In some ways, yes.’ She gave a short laugh. ‘It will take more than a couple of weeks to sort me out.’
Aruna surveyed her sternly and Briony, used to her friend trying to organize her life, rushed on. ‘Sorry, I don’t mean to sound rude. It’s so lovely of you to have invited me here, but . . .’
‘I know, it’s all been a bit tense, hasn’t it. Mike’s a total ass. Why do girls as sweet as Zara end up with such men?’
‘That’s one of the world’s eternal questions.’
‘I bet you feel a right spare part.’ She shot Briony a glance full of sympathy.
‘Not really. You know me, Aruna, happy to wander off on my own. And Mike’s not that bad.’ He had been helpful over the film, at least. ‘You and Luke have been brilliant. Really, Luke’s been incredibly nice, given that he hardly knows me.’
‘He likes you, Bri, so it’s not difficult.’
Briony was pleased to hear this. ‘You’ve picked a good one there!’
‘I have, haven’t I.’ Aruna beamed at her and confided, ‘I think he may be, you know, The One. I hope so, anyway. Even Mum and Dad like him and you remember how difficult they are to please.’
‘I wondered if that was the way things were going!’ Briony said. She felt happiness for her friend, but had to confess that a teeny part of her felt forlorn. Would this be how it would continue to be as she grew older, her remaining single friends pairing off?
Aruna touched her arm. ‘Oh, Briony, I wish there was someone for you, I honestly do.’
‘Don’t worry. I don’t. It’s like my dear old dad says, if something’s meant to happen . . .’
‘You should make it happen. Give fate a nudge. What about that dating site Louisa swears by? She says it’s brilliant.’
‘Brilliant for Louisa, yes. She’s tougher than me.’ She tried not to sound sarcastic, but while their outgoing friend Louisa thrived on the excitement of meeting men she’d only previously talked to online, Briony was appalled at some of her stories. And the very idea of advertising herself in that horribly public way made her feel cold with horror. The possibilities for rejection seemed endless.
‘Is there really no one at the college you like, Bri?’
She thought about it. There were several men who were the right age and, so far as she knew, single, but one was probably gay, and the only one she fancied of the others wasn’t interested, she could tell. She shook her head and mumbled, ‘Not really. And if it went wrong, I’d still have to go on working with them.’
‘You’re looking at the downside all the time. I think you should try online.’
Briony didn’t have time to respond before Aruna’s phone burst into a jaunty pop tune. Luke was calling to say his tooth was fixed and that he would meet them by the car in a few minutes.
‘What will you do the rest of the summer?’ Aruna murmured, as they set off. ‘Some of us have to go straight back to work, of course, but you academics . . .’
‘Same here, actually.’ Briony sighed. ‘I’m teaching on summer schools for two weeks – you know, for visiting students – and then I’ve got the rewrites of my book to do. The new publisher is brilliant, but, blimey, it’s more difficult writing for a non-academic audience than I thought. My editor’s come up with so many suggestions. Anyway, once I’ve tackled that, I might take a week or two off.’
‘Sounds good. What will you do?’
‘I don’t know.’ She paused. ‘Actually I do. I’d really like to see what I can find out about Grandpa and what he was up to here. Maybe I’ll try to trace the woman who wrote those letters.’
‘Sarah, you mean?’
‘Yes.’ She’d given the matter some thought. It wasn’t simply Sarah, it was the whole new vista of the past that fascinated her. There was the spell of the ruined villa and its garden, the grainy images on the film of the man she was sure was her grandfather, Mariella’s story, all these were mixed up together somehow and she was curious about how and why.
‘Great idea. And, Briony, I know we shouldn’t be talking shop while we’re on holiday, but I can’t let a good chance go by. If there’s some amazing story in it you will let me know? It’s exactly the sort of programme I could interest the commissioning board in.’
‘I suppose so.’ Briony sighed. Once, before her horrible television experience, she’d have been pleased at Aruna’s suggestion. She’d worked at the same college since doing her PhD there and had reached a plateau regarding promotion. She supposed her new publisher would expect more of the kind of media exposure that had been so disastrous for her. After her ordeal by Twitter the thought was terrifying.
When she mentioned her plans to Luke, sitting in the back of the car as he navigated the tight winding roads back to their holiday villa, she was touched when he said, ‘You know you said Sarah lived in Westbury? Well, I googled it when I was waiting in the surgery. Westbury is not far at all from my parents in Norfolk. I’m sure if I asked nicely they’d have you to stay. They love having visitors. Dad misses London gossip.’
‘I’ll bear that in mind, Luke, thanks.’ She’d rather be somewhere on her own than staying with strangers and having to be on time for meals, but it was sweet of him to offer. ‘I can’t go anywhere for a while, though. There’s too much I need to do in London.’
This last bit was true, but she spoke wistfully. She could already feel the pull of the Norfolk past.