An Italian Dream

‘These late-night chats, that’s all it was, talking?’

‘Of course! I’m married.’

‘I know you are.’ It was Stella’s turn to feel embarrassed. She’d witnessed it for too many years, Fern plodding through life being the dutiful wife and a perfect mother, keeping the house clean and tidy while muddling along, working jobs her heart wasn’t really in. The spirited friend she remembered, who used to throw all caution to the wind, who drank too much, snogged strangers, was passionate and funny, naughty and courageous, that Fern would have done more than just chat.

‘Why would you even insinuate that I’d do something like that?’

Her embarrassment had seemingly turned to rage. Stella glanced towards the hallway, concerned Fern’s rising voice would filter through the villa.

‘I really didn’t mean to upset you.’

‘It was a thoughtless thing to say.’ Fern scrambled to her feet, stalked across the living room and went out through the patio doors.

Stella sat quietly for a moment, contemplating what she should do. It was an impossible situation. Fern was bound to get hurt, the one person who didn’t deserve to and the person most likely to. Whatever this Matteo meant to her, it was obvious that he’d ignited something. Stella believed that Fern hadn’t cheated, but she sensed her anger was there because she’d at least thought about it.

She made a decision and went upstairs to find Amber. Chloe’s door was still closed. She leaned in close but couldn’t hear anything. She wandered along the landing and knocked on Amber’s door.

‘Come in!’

Amber was sitting on her bed, a stack of pillows wedged behind her. Her room was probably the best one, overlooking the pool with its own private sun-flooded balcony.

Amber glanced up. ‘If you’re looking for Chloe, she’s getting a shower.’

‘I came to talk to you.’

Amber frowned but put her phone down.

Stella perched on the edge of the bed.

‘Why didn’t you talk to her this morning? When we spoke on the yacht we thought it would be better coming from you.’

Amber folded her arms. ‘It’s just Dad—’

‘Screw your dad and what he made you promise. He’s the one in the wrong.’

‘You need to tell her.’ Amber shook her head. ‘I can’t do this. I can’t break Mum’s heart; she hates me enough as it is.’

‘Your mum does not hate you.’

‘That’s what you think. I’ve given her every reason to.’

‘Only because your dad put you in a terrible position.’

Amber swiped angrily at her eyes. ‘I should never have agreed to not say anything. The longer it’s gone on, the harder it is to tell the truth. I just wish Mum would open her eyes and see what’s staring her in the face.’

‘I think she’s beginning to…’ Stella gazed towards the balcony and wondered where Fern had gone.

Amber sniffed. ‘Well, with Dad and Ruby coming out tomorrow, it might all kick off. Will be about time too.’

Stella’s attention snapped back to Amber. ‘What do you mean your dad’s coming out?’

Amber avoided her gaze. ‘I messaged him when we were on the yacht that if he didn’t fess up to Mum, then I would. I was drunk and angry.’ She shrugged. ‘It was after you gave me that bollocking about using protection and going easy on Mum. Think I freaked him out a bit. He told me yesterday he’d managed to book a ticket.’

The walls were closing in. Panic pulsed through Stella. One way or another, the truth was going to come out before they left Capri.

‘Does your mum know he’s coming?’

Amber shrugged. ‘He asked me not to tell her. Don’t know if Ruby has.’