An Italian Dream

‘Oh for fuck’s sake, Amber. I know you’re trying to do what you think’s best for her, but your dad showing up is not going to help things at all.’

Stella stormed from the room. She leant on the banister at the top of the stairs. The blue and white tiled floor below blurred though her tears, the pattern shifting, making her head woozy. She felt nauseous, that all too familiar feeling of everything closing in overwhelming.

She fumbled for her phone and scrolled through until she reached Paul’s name. It rang and rang, then went to answerphone. She didn’t leave a message. She tried him again but on his other phone, the one Fern didn’t know about. It was switched off. She swore and pressed end call.

The banister was firm and smooth beneath her fingers. Her knuckles were white, her breathing ragged. She tried to take long deep breaths to slow her thudding heart as she thought things through. She’d made one mistake and it was about to ripple through everyone’s lives. There really was only one option. She should have done this a long time ago. She took the stairs two at a time and headed outside.

The day was still and humid. The pool glistened beneath the midday sun, and the green of the garden was welcome with shady spots. Stella found Fern at the furthest reaches of the grounds, standing by the stone wall that ran the length of the property, separating it from the soaring island view. Red and white wallflowers grew from the gaps in the stone.

Stella joined Fern and tried to steady her breathing. ‘Do you like him, this Matteo?’ she asked quietly.

Neither of them looked at each other, their focus on the view over Capri.

‘We got on well. He’s a nice guy.’ Her voice was clipped.

‘But do you like him like him?’

Fern turned to her. ‘What if I do? What difference would it make? It’s not like I would ever cheat on Paul.’

A coldness swept through Stella at the truth of Fern’s words; her faithful friend, a loyal wife and mother. Everything Stella wasn’t. Fern was right to hold her head high and be angry with her for suggesting she’d do something with a man she’d met on holiday. But she sensed how conflicted Fern was. She could imagine the sorts of thoughts tumbling around her head. The right thing to do might not always be the right thing. Good advice for herself too. Long-held secrets needed to come out, but it was the impact on other people she feared the most. The impact on her friend.

‘I don’t doubt you, Fern, but I know you’re not happy with Paul. And for good reason.’

‘What does that even mean?’

‘He’s not worth it.’

Fern spun round, her lips pursed, eyes flashing with anger. ‘My marriage isn’t worth it? Is that what you’re honestly saying?’

‘Well… I’m sorry… but, yes.’

‘Why? Why do you think that?’

‘I think you know why, deep down. You know what Paul’s like… You know he’s not faithful.’ Her heart shattered as the words tumbled out.

Fern turned away, her shoulders hunched as she leaned on the wall. ‘How do you know?’ Her voice was faint and she looked smaller and more vulnerable than Stella had ever seen her before.

‘Because I do.’ She gingerly placed her hand on Fern’s arm.

Fern shrugged her off.

‘Amber knows too. I’m so sorry, Fern. She caught Paul with another woman. She’s wanted to tell you, but he made her promise not to…’

‘He did what?’ There was an iciness to Fern’s voice that sent a shiver through Stella. It was as if the warmth of the sun had vanished, the birdsong had been muted, the colour drained from the flowers, trees, sea and sky. There was just her and Fern left standing, emotions and lies bound tight around them.

Somehow Stella managed to find her voice. ‘There’s something else I need to tell you.’