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Chapter Fifteen
‘Don’t be shy, Sophia,’ said Fran, feigning innocence. ‘Come on, you’re amongst friends here.’
For the last ten minutes, she had been using every trick in her extensive arsenal to get me to dish the details on my night with Lorenzo, but I wasn’t having any of it.
I’d seen how she’d skilfully coaxed information from Erica and even Lorenzo himself. But as much as I was bursting to share every detail because I was still on such a high from what had happened, I wasn’t about to do it in front of this new driver, who would no doubt report everything to Erica and the rest of the Taste Holidays team. I didn’t want to get Lorenzo into any trouble.
‘You came up to bed at three twenty-seven a.m.,’ Fran stated, giving a knowing smile, ‘so he must have been anexcellentlover for you to be downstairs for so long together…’
I knew she’d be listening and checking her watch. Forget the NHS. I reckoned Fran was one of M15’s top agents. Her speciality was sure to be interrogation. Who needed waterboarding or the threat of chopping your fingers off? Just send in Fran and she’d get even the most hardened criminal to talk.
I could tell she wasn’t going to give up, so I thought I’d throw her a bone. Make herthinkI was giving her something, but not actually tell her anything. It probably wouldn’t work, but it was worth a shot.
‘Francesca,’ I said formally, ‘as you know, I am alady. And aladynever tells,’ I added virtuously. ‘Especiallyin a car full of people which includes a driver that could go back and blab to all and sundry. But what Iwillsay is that I had awonderfultime last night, and let’s just leave it at that.’
Fran raised her eyebrows as if to sayseriously?There was no way I was going to get away with my PR spiel.
‘Oh, come on, Soph,’ she said, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms to show she meant business. ‘You’re not at bloody work now. Stop feeding us that spin shite. Don’t worry about the driver, he probably doesn’t even speak English.’
Right on cue, the driver, a man in his early sixties who had been smiling to himself throughout Fran’s interrogation, suddenly went all stony-faced as he pretended to play deaf and dumb.
‘Trust me, Fran, our lovely driver probably understandseverythingwe’ve been saying,’ I said, nodding my head in his direction, hoping she’d catch a glimpse of his ‘busted’ guilty face in the rear-view mirror. ‘Let’s save this story for another time, shall we?’
‘No!’ Fran screamed in frustration. ‘I’ve been itching to find out what went on since you came up to bed at all hours, and I can’t wait any longer!’ she said, eyes widening like a crazed gossip junkie who desperately needed her fix. ‘Youoweme, madam,’ she huffed. ‘If it wasn’t for me spotting that something was going on and clearing the room for you, you probably wouldn’t have got any action atalllast night.’
She had a point, but I wasn’t going to be broken.
‘So you guys actually did the deed last night, then?’ asked Dan brazenly. ‘Get in there, my son!’ he shouted, thrusting his hips backwards and forwards suggestively. ‘I knew that Lorenzo would score. He’s a filthy one, he is, I can just tell! And I bet you’re a bit of a screamer, aren’t you, Sophia?’ he added crudely. ‘You know what they say about the quiet ones! IthoughtI heard noises downstairs. Grace? Can you enlighten us? You must have heardeverything!’
So bloody cheeky…
‘I’m with Stella on this one, Nathan,’ said Grace respectfully. ‘What happened between her and Luciano is a private affair. The only thing Iwillsay on the matter is that they seemed to be having alovelyevening with each other.’
‘Thank you, Grace,’ I said. At least someone knew how to act tactfully. Then again, she also owed me one after interrupting us. ‘Dan, happy birthday by the way,’ I said, changing the subject. ‘Got any plans for celebrating with your wife tonight?’
And just like that, I managed to steer them away from asking about my love life. As if it wasn’t bad enough having my mum, Roxy and Monique grilling me at home, now I had Fran and Dan submitting me to an interrogation on my holiday too. I had to admit, if the shoe had been on the other foot, I’d want to know all the goss. I would tell them, but just not right here and right now. In any case, I wouldn’t have a choice as, just like Liam Neeson inTaken, you could guarantee that Fran would track me down and tie me up until I’d revealed every last detail.
I watched from the window as the plane soared higher into the clouds.Ciao, Italia.I’d certainly had fun. I took a moment to reflect on everything that had happened over the past four days. It was nothing short of a miraculous transformation for me.
I’d come on holiday on my own, lived with three strangers who I now believed would become lifelong friends, learnt to cook dozens of amazing dishes, eaten food I previously would never have touched with a hundred-foot bargepole, and drunk from a ‘dirty’ glass (not an achievement for most normal people, but a major one for me). I’d also put my obsessive fear of germs on the back burner and had happily eaten food cooked by many different hands without freaking out about how clean they were. And guess what? I was still alive.
I’d stayed in accommodation that didn’t have a spa attached and that wasn’t five-star. I hadn’t checked my emails since Saturday—a whole four days. I’d worn very basic clothing (much of it high street, which I hadn’t done since my uni days) and zero pairs of high heels, had applied at least seventy percent less make-up than I normally would, and on the whole, I still felt confident and had received dozens of compliments.
Oh, and of course, there was also the small fact that I’d hooked up with a hot Italian chef…
I grinned from ear to ear. I was finally allowing myself to have fun and starting to live my life a bit more.
I pulled my handbag from underneath the seat and rummaged around to find my notebook. I flicked through the pages until I got to the MAP section.
1) Stop being a workaholic…
Probably a half check. Four days without checking emails had to count for something. More to be done, but we were making progress.
2) End my relationship.
Yes.
3) Experience passion.
