‘So can I stay?’ Alex was saying. ‘Until I get myself sorted out?’
Etienne slapped him on the upper arm.
‘Of course, Al. Although we’re also sharing with an eighty-year-old man for a few weeks, so it might have to be the sofa.’
A movement across the square caught her eye. A glimpse of the back of someone as they slipped into the front door of Tutto Mio. She gasped. She’d never forget that body shape or size. She ducked out of Etienne’s arm and ran to the window, straining to see, but the front door of her restaurant slowly closed and blocked her view.
‘What is it?’ Etienne asked, peering over her shoulder.
‘I saw someone, I think– going into Tutto Mio!’ she said, already running. ‘You’d better come,’ she called over her shoulder as she tore across the square for the second time that morning in her shortie pyjamas.
Isabella ignored the calls from behind her, telling her to wait, telling her not to go in. She knew in her bones who it was, but she hadn’t expected to see him again nearly so soon.
She flung the front door open and she was right.
Her papà, standing beside a large rucksack, looking tanned and travel weary. Her mamma too, rocking a new blunt bob and an oversized pair of sunglasses, cursing a late flight connection that meant they’d missed the opening of the restaurant. Nonna was beside them, pinching cheeks and kissing them on repeat, and Isabella threw herself in between, to be engulfed in a family hug.
‘We were meant to be here yesterday!’ Mamma said, holding her away to get a look at her.
‘We were only pretending we wouldn’t make it– and then we didn’t make it!’ Papà said.
‘You’re here now!’ Isabella stuttered over the lump in her throat as she pulled them back in for another hug.
Her mamma was laughing and crying at the same time, smiling even as the tears ran down her face and into her mouth. Her father was momentarily speechless, choked with emotion. And she realised how much she’d missed them on their travels. Their never-wavering love and support were always there, but a hug in person was worth more than anything.
The front door slammed again, and Etienne skidded into the dining room, carrying, of all things, an umbrella from his umbrella pot at The Bistro which he waved in the air. Alex crashed in behind him, brandishing another one.
‘Where are they?’ Etienne said, eyes darting to the corner, the bar.
‘Who?’ Nonna asked, looking around her too.
Everyone looked at each other in confusion and for a moment it was quiet. Then Mamma giggled and Isabella tipped back her head and laughed. Etienne and Alex slowly dropped their umbrellas and shot each other looks.
‘Mamma, Papà, this is Etienne,’ Isabella said, putting her hand out for him to join them. ‘And his brother Alex.’
Realisation flashed across Etienne’s face as he stepped forward and she put an arm around his back, leaning her head momentarily on his shoulder. He extended a hand to her father first and Papà looked at it and then him, reading his face. When he saw what he wanted in Etienne’s face, they shook. It seemed a serious connection. A question and answer. A contract.
Etienne turned to her mother.
‘Pleased to meet you, Mrs Tucci,’ he said, extending his hand again. Mamma ignored the hand and pulled him in to kiss on both cheeks.
Alex filled the gaps left by Etienne and shook and kissed as if he were already part of the family.
‘Where were you, out in your pyjamas?’ Mamma asked and Isabella laughed when she saw the flush on Etienne’s cheeks.
‘Long story,’ she said. ‘It’s been a busy morning.’
‘Time for coffee and biscuits,’ said Nonna. Which everyone– except Alex– knew meant rum, and soon they were all sitting around a table, chatting in Italian and English and hearing about Mamma’s experience swimming with a whale shark in the Maldives and Papà’s white-water rafting in Croatia, when Amber opened the front door to set up for lunch.
‘Amber!’ Isabella called. ‘Come and meet my parents!’
Amber approached, grinning already, and they all turned to her. Halfway across the restaurant floor, she stopped, dead in her tracks, and the smile died on her face. Her mouth fell open. Isabella frowned; Amber looked like she’d seen a ghost.
Glancing around the table, she saw the focus of her gaze. Alex. But the expression on his face was one of amazement. Their expressions could not have been more different.
‘Amber!’ He pushed back his chair.
‘You!’ Amber said, shaking her head.
