An Italian Dream

STELLA

‘A package has arrived for Fern,’ Violetta said. ‘I left it in the hall.’

‘Thanks, I’ll take it to her room.’

Stella wandered through the villa, noticing how it seemed even more peaceful than usual. Chloe was still in bed and Amber had taken Fern out for breakfast in Capri. That in itself didn’t bode well. Stella sighed. Someone had to come clean to Fern; perhaps it was better it came from Amber.

She reached the entrance hall and spotted a large flat parcel leaning against the wall. It was beautifully wrapped in brown craft paper with green and white striped string tying it together. Stella took it to Fern’s room. Unlike her own room, Fern’s was tidy, with everything put away and no clothes left scattered across the bed. All the make-up on the dressing table was neatly laid out, organised like Fern’s house was. Everything had its place; home was somewhere she was in control. On the outside, Fern seemed perfectly happy. Stella had lost count of how many times Fern had said that Paul and the girls were her life, but it was becoming more and more evident just how unhappy she really was.

Stella was about to put the package down when an envelope caught her eye. It wasn’t stuck down. She faltered, momentarily torn between doing the right thing and a desire to find out who it was from. She slipped the envelope from beneath the string and held it in her hands. Fern wouldn’t have a clue if she opened it. She glanced behind her at the empty room and, without another thought, pulled out a postcard with a painting of a tropical garden on the front. Turning it over, she read it, then read it slowly two more times.

Dear Fern,

You left your painting here; I thought you might like to have it. You have talent.

I miss our late-night chats so much.

I miss you.

Yours, Matteo x

Stella read it for a fourth and final time before sliding it back in the envelope and tucking it beneath the string. She left the package on the end of the bed. There was an awful lot Fern hadn’t told her about her few days on the art retreat. And from that note alone, Stella wasn’t surprised. It accounted for her reticence and why she seemed so distracted.

Good for her, Stella thought. It was about time Fern finally lived a little.

* * *

Stella was sitting in the living room reading when Fern and Amber returned a couple of hours later. She was certain that Amber wouldn’t have been able to keep her secret any longer, but from the relaxed chatter coming from the entrance hall, they seemed quite happy. Was she cowardly wishing for Amber to break the news about Paul’s infidelity? Not that it would soften the blow in the slightest when the whole truth came out.

Amber paused in the doorway of the living room. ‘Where’s Chloe?’ she asked.

Stella put her book down. ‘Still in bed as far as I know. Go wake her up, otherwise she’s going to miss lunch as well as breakfast.’

Amber disappeared in the direction of the stairs and Fern wandered into the living room.

‘Everything okay?’ Stella asked.

Fern sat on the opposite end of the sofa. ‘Yes, surprisingly it is. We just had a really rather lovely breakfast and chatted about Amber’s course and what she’d like to do once she graduates. Admittedly, this is the first time she’s been friendly with me the whole time we’ve been here, but I’ll chalk that down as a win. What have you been up to?’

‘Oh, just chilling.’

‘Good book?’

‘Uh-huh. A parcel arrived for you.’

‘Oh, really?’ Fern frowned.

If the only way to get Fern to confide in her was to initially piss her off, then so be it. Stella couldn’t hold her tongue. ‘Who’s Matteo?’

Fern looked at her sharply.

‘I wasn’t sure who the package was for, so I read the note,’ Stella lied. ‘Sorry.’

‘He’s the owner of the art retreat.’

‘Uh-huh.’ Stella watched Fern carefully. She knew the look, the flush of embarrassment because there was something there, because whoever this Matteo was, Fern really liked him. ‘What’s going on with him?’

‘Nothing.’ She was too quick to answer. The redness of her cheeks deepened.