An Italian Dream

* * *

Luca traced his fingers from Stella’s bare hips upwards, pulling her close for a lingering kiss. They’d stayed in bed for so long, the sun was already setting. A pink-tinged glimmer of gold crept through the half-closed blinds. The yacht had moored up for the night, although Stella wasn’t sure where. She hadn’t wanted to drag herself from bed and Luca’s arms.

‘I’m going back to my room to take a shower.’ He kissed her again. ‘Maybe we can have dinner out this evening?’

‘I’d like that,’ she said as she watched him slip out of bed and pull on his shorts. He blew her a kiss as he left.

Stella spread out on the bed. The warmth of Luca remained on the sheet next to her. She wanted to stay within this bubble far removed from real life. She wanted to continue feeling good about herself and for life to remain simple and uncomplicated by messy relationships, both platonic and romantic. Although there’s nothing romantic about my relationship with Paul, she thought bitterly. She was a fool for having let things get to this point.

She threw off the covers, stormed naked to the en suite and let the water pummel her body. Their villa on Capri was a dream, yet she didn’t want to sail back there. She didn’t want to face any sort of reality. What had her intentions been for inviting Fern on holiday? In five days’ time, they were supposed to be celebrating their fortieth birthdays together. Her best friend. Best friends didn’t treat each other the way she’d treated Fern. Was the holiday a way of trying to make it up to her, to soften the blow? Could anything make up for what she’d done?

Stella got dried and put on another new maxi dress with a subtle leopard-print pattern in a flattering dusky blue and grey, strapless and soft against her skin. She spritzed on her perfume and gazed at herself in the full-length mirror. Everything about her life felt shiny and new, the possibilities of so much money and the freedom it could bring bubbling beneath the surface. Yet she felt cowardly and a fraud, because she was living a lie and had been for a long time. When they got home, she would put things right, however hard that would be.

* * *

There was a party atmosphere on the main deck. A couple of the crew were serving drinks, and nibbles had been laid out on the large circular table. Laughter sprinkled the night air, Chloe’s unmistakable giggle soaring above the others. While Stella had been below deck, some serious drinking had been going on.

Desi winked as he walked past. So her and Luca’s disappearance hadn’t gone unnoticed. Why should she care? Chloe would roll her eyes and fake gag at the idea of her mum’s extracurricular activities with a hot Italian, but she was single and deserved to have fun.

Luca spotted her, took a glass of bubbly from a tray and walked over. His stubble tickled her cheek as he kissed her. He handed her the glass. ‘We have a drink here and dinner out. Just the two of us.’

Stella glanced towards Chloe and Amber.

‘The girls are happy to stay,’ he said, anticipating her next question.

‘I think they need to eat something rather than just drink.’ She realised how much of a mum she sounded. She may be acting as if she had few cares in the world and behaving as if she was the same age as her daughter, but her mothering instinct was alive and kicking.

‘There will be food. I have asked the chef. You don’t need to worry.’

Luca took her arm and she allowed herself to be enveloped by the evening, their last one on the yacht before they returned to Capri. The Silver Spirit was the largest in the marina and was lit like a beacon. It wasn’t the only party boat. There were others too, with people out on the deck drinking and enjoying life to the full. Twinkling lights decorated the marina, reflecting in the gleaming white of hulls. The beat of music, the thrum of voices and drifting laughter filled the starlit night.

The drinks flowed as easily as the conversation. It had been a gamble saying yes to joining four strangers on a yacht. Stella had warmed to them all, Luca in particular, and not just because she’d slept with him. They talked, and he had treated her like an equal even before he knew that she had money. She’d never spent time with anyone who was genuinely rich. She would have liked this before she’d come into money, but now, seeing the ease of Luca’s life and that – at least on the surface – he was happy, gave her hope that she could be too.

Luca slid his fingers between hers, his thumb caressing as he had a conversation across the table with Giovanni about New Year plans of all things, on a balmy evening in late May. Their conversation was fast and good-humoured, both laughing and teasing each other, often slipping out of English and back into Italian. She would miss Luca, but only because what they had right now was perfect. An actual relationship would spoil that. Having sex with him was uncomplicated and they got on well. Goodbye would only be hard because she would have to face up to reality again.

* * *

Luca had made a reservation for nine at a seafood restaurant. Stella nipped below deck to reapply her lipstick. Alcohol had taken the edge off her worries. She gave a little turn, liking what she saw. Luca’s attention had buoyed her. She felt good about herself. She grabbed her purse and made her way back up.

Amber was on the lounge deck, holding onto the back of an armchair, looking worse for wear.

‘Hey.’ Stella caught hold of her arm. ‘You okay?’

‘Uh-huh. Just making my way back from the ladies’…’ she slurred in a put-on funny voice.

‘Just take it easy tonight, yeah.’ She leaned closer and lowered her voice. ‘Make sure you use protection too.’

Amber was swaying in front of her. ‘You’re not my mother, Stella. You can’t tell me what to do.’

Stella folded her arms, taken aback at the animosity streaked through Amber’s words. ‘I’m reminding you to be careful, that’s all. I don’t want you to end up regretting anything.’

‘What, like you regret Chloe and my mum regrets me and Rubes.’

‘Oh wow, Amber. How can you even think that? We absolutely do not regret any of you. Your mum asked me to look out for you, so that’s what I’m doing. A friendly reminder to not get knocked up won’t go amiss, considering how much you’ve had to drink.’

Amber stabbed a finger in Stella’s direction. ‘My goddamn mum has no right to tell me what I can or can’t do any longer.’

‘Maybe not, but she’s not here and I am. And no one’s trying to tell you anything. I’m only suggesting you go a little slower with the drinking, with Desi…’