?t see you again.’
‘Of course you’ll see me. I’ll fly over, you can fly to see me. This doesn’t mean it’s the end of us.’
His words made her heart feel light, as though a burst of helium had been let loose in her chest. ‘It doesn’t?’
‘Do you want it to be over?’ For the first time, he faltered.
‘I want—’
The sound of the glass door sliding open silenced her. Sam jumped back, releasing her arms, and she busied herself at the refrigerator, pulling ingredients out to check their sell-by dates.
‘Sam, I thought you were coming straight back out.’
‘Hey, Izz, I was. I just needed to talk to Cesca about something.’
His sister turned to look at her. ‘What about?’
Cesca cleared her throat. ‘He was telling me you’re a pescatarian.’
‘Did Mom tell you?’ Izzy asked her brother. She flipped her dark, curly hair over her shoulder. She was the older sister – Cesca remembered that now – and at eighteen she was a real beauty. Looking at her, Cesca could imagine Lucia at the same age. A peach ripe for the picking, ready to be used by Sam’s father. Then discarded when things got tough.
Sam glanced at Cesca. ‘Yeah, she did. How long’s that been going on?’
Izzy screwed up her nose. ‘For the first two weeks we were in Paris, Dad took us out for a steak every night. I got sick of the things, so told them I wanted to be a vegetarian. Mom said I couldn’t so eventually we compromised.’
She could see Sam trying to stifle a grin. ‘So fish don’t count?’
Izzy looked guilty. ‘Of course they count, but I only eat responsibly farmed fish. I’m doing my bit, Sam.’
‘I’ll make sure you get some for dinner tonight,’ Cesca interjected.
Izzy shot her a grateful look. ‘Thank you.’ Then, grabbing Sam by the arm, she pulled him away, telling him to come back outside. This time, Sam let himself be pulled, only pausing one moment to glance back at Cesca.
‘Later,’ he mouthed.
She wasn’t sure if that was a threat or a promise.
26
Love is blind, and lovers cannot see, The pretty follies that themselves commit
– The Merchant of Venice
‘Cesca?’ Sam opened the door to her bedroom, tiptoeing in. ‘You awake?’
She sat up, rubbing at her eyes with tight fists. ‘I am now. What time is it?’ She leaned across and flicked on her bedside lamp. The glow illuminated her face, casting a soft yellow across her skin.
‘It’s about two,’ Sam whispered, sitting down on the edge of her mattress. ‘Sorry I didn’t come earlier. Foster’s only just gone to sleep. Oh, and here.’ He put a rectangular metal stick on her desk.
‘A memory stick?’
‘I remembered your play was still on Foster’s computer. I downloaded it for you, didn’t want him to delete it or something.’
Cesca was touched. She picked up the memory stick, tracing the words on it with her fingers. ‘Thank you.’
‘It’s nothing.’
‘It’s something.’ She felt a lump in her throat. ‘Even I’d forgotten about that play. I hadn’t thought of it all day. Well, not since everybody arrived.’