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Lauren shifted her gaze to Yaya’s face. “In what way?”
“You look similar. And you’re both of a comparable temperament.” Yaya’s voice grew thin and Lauren understood why. Camilla had died after a long period of estrangement – such a pain for a mother to bear.
“I didn’t realise it at first, but it must be why I like you so much.” Then with a shake of her head. “I didn’t mean that.” Frustration clipped her tone. “Sometimes I say things now –,”
“That’s a normal side effect,” Lauren soothed. “I know what you meant.”
“Just that it’s easy to feel that I know you, because it’s like we’ve met before. But you’re easy to be around.”
Lauren compressed her lips. “I don’t know if that’s true. Most people find me too reserved.”
“People can be very stupid,” Yaya said with condemnation. “They don’t look beneath the surface often enough for my liking.”
Lauren’s heart lifted. Yaya paused a moment, catching her breath, and Lauren scanned her face. She would offer to take Yaya back to her room but knew the answer would be ‘no’. She was a woman on a mission today.
“Here,” she pointed down the hallway. Lauren moved with her, deeper into a part of the house she hadn’t spent much time in. They reached a wide door that was pulled closed.
Lauren reached for the handle but Yaya shook her head. “I’ll do it. Aspetti.”
Lauren did so, stepping to the side, keeping one arm around Yaya’s waist, though she was realising that each step was giving Yaya confidence and strength. It almost felt as though she no longer needed Lauren to lean on. It almost felt as though she no longer needed Lauren at all, but that was something Lauren would contemplate at a later point.
The door pushed inwards to reveal a large office, decorated in an eclectic, somewhat old-fashioned style. A huge timber desk stood at the centre, a leather wing-back chair behind it. Windows framed a picturesque view of the vineyards that climbed over one of the trees behind the villa. Art decorated the walls – renaissance in style and, as she looked closer, undoubtedly original.
“Here,” Yaya pulled away from Lauren, moving on her own now, shuffling quickly. Lauren stared in surprise before quickly closing the gap, putting an arm around Yaya’s slender waist.
“Don’t fuss,” Yaya warned.
“I’m your accomplice to an escape, but I still have a duty to take care of you.”
“Do I look like I need that?”
“You look – wonderful,” Lauren sai
d honestly. “But it’s still early days.”
“You’ve been watching. You see it too, I know you do. Every day I am stronger than the day before. My family is good for me. Moving is good for me.”
She paused, her face, scrunched in contemplation. “I know I am old now, Lauren. I am not stupid. But the world is waiting for me to die and I suppose it’s about time I tell everyone I have no intention of doing that, yet.”
Lauren blinked, surprised by several things. The outburst – which showed strength and determination Lauren hadn’t fully comprehended. And the truth, because yes, Lauren had seen this. Every day, she’d noticed small things, tiny details that revealed an ongoing improvement in Yaya’s condition. Had she ignored them because her brief had been the same as always – to come and guide someone towards the end? Or was there another reason she’d been blind to Yaya’s improvements?
Was it that she knew with Yaya’s progressive good-health, there was no longer a need for Lauren’s services?
It was time for her to leave.
To leave Yaya and Villa Fortune would be hard enough, but there was Raf as well, and despite everything they’d agreed to, the idea of that was like shrapnel flying fast into her chest.
But she couldn’t stay now. Not when it was so clear that Yaya was improving. There were other patients who weren’t so lucky, other people who needed Lauren. Her heart weighed heavily. She couldn’t stay. This had been a beautiful, heaven-sent respite for Lauren but her real life was out there, waiting for her, and apparently it was time for her to get back to it.
“In here.” Yaya braced her palms on the top of a sideboard, the sound of her heavy breathing filling the room. Lauren waited, watching, as Yaya wiggled a drawer open – determined to do it all herself – and pulled out a thin book. No, not a book, a plastic album, a small one that held only one photo per sleeve.
“Come,” Yaya entreated as she shuffled towards the desk, her breathing still loud as she pulled the chair back and sat down. For a moment, her shoulders hunched and a blade of worry sliced through Lauren. Perhaps she was wrong? Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea. She put her fingers on Yaya’s wrist, to check her heart rate, but Yaya shook her hand away with a croaky laugh. “I’m okay, cara. It’s just a sore heart, not a damaged one.” Her smile was wistful. “This was his office. Whenever I sit here I almost feel as though he’s with me.” She shook her head. “Living without him is – impossible to describe.”
“You miss him,” Lauren supplied quietly.
“Every minute of every day. He was a part of me. I’d had boyfriends before, but when I met Gianfelice - Oh, I was still so young, you know, just a teenager – but it was like we’d known each other forever. And it was more than that. There was an inevitability to it. I felt as though any piece in my life could be moved and he would be the one constant.”
Lauren’s heart spasmed. It hadn’t been like that for her and Thom. Theirs wasn’t a lightning-bolt kind of love. It had grown over time, over years of friendship, dependency and affection. It had been calm, measured, reasoned. Perhaps it was the fact she knew she was leaving soon, but she heard herself say, “I was married, once.”
