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‘I know, it’s a lovely thing to do but I can’t help feel… well, just not as happy about the idea as I should, really.’
Tilda stopped and turned to her friend. ‘Listen, Flo. You’ve been through the most awful time. And we can’t even begin to imagine how you must be feeling, but maybe a little bit of time away, in a beautiful place… it might just be a nice change?’
‘I know, I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. It’s just that I feel… I don’t know, really. He’s going to take me all that way and I’m still going to feel like this. I’m sorry, I sound horribly depressing, don’t I? I promise I won’t always be like this.’ Flora managed a smile for her friends.
‘I bloody well hope not.’ Tilda threw her arms around her. ‘But in the meantime, you be however you need to be. We’re not going anywhere, are we, Suse?’
‘No, we are not.’ Susie smiled at Flora. ‘No rush, Flo.’
‘Thank you. I really love you two.’
‘Love you, too. Right, who wants a hot chocolate?’ Tilda pulled a flask from her basket. ‘It might have a tiny bit of rum in it, just so you know.’
‘Tilda, it’s not even eleven o’clock.’ Susie laughed.
‘I know, but our friend here is grieving so mid-morning drinking is totally acceptable.’ Tilda plonked herself down on the pebbles. ‘Who’s first?’
‘Seriously, though, Venice. I’m so jealous.’ Susie sighed.
‘Well, I don’t know for sure. He hasn’t mentioned anything yet.’
‘Let us know when he does. We can look after the kids between us, if that helps?’ Tilda looked at Susie, who nodded back quickly in agreement.
‘Definitely, we can work something out.’ Susie took the proffered cup of hot chocolate from Tilda, the soothing, slightly boozy smell hitting her nose before she’d even taken a sip.
‘Thank you. I’ll let you know if he says anything.’
The three friends looked out at the sea, watching the small white horses on the waves riding into shore. The wind had picked up a little, carrying a chill with it. Curling her fingers around the cup, Flora closed her eyes for a brief moment and let herself think about her brother. She recalled his face, his smiling eyes, slightly lopsided grin and that mop of hair.
She was scared of forgetting what he looked like, what he sounded like, even of forgetting his smell. What if it all started to fade from her memory? She had plenty of pictures of him around the house, including favourites she’d put into frames not long after he died. But it was his physical presence she was starting to forget and that scared her. She wanted to cling to every last part of him she possibly could. She wanted to fill a memory bank with everything he’d said and done, the sound of his laugh, the way he walked.
It felt like time was taking the memory of Billy away from her and Flora couldn’t bear the thought of losing him again.
19
‘How was your day?’ Johnny came into the kitchen, laptop under his arm.
Flora stood by the oven, stirring a huge pot of bolognese. ‘Good, thank you. I saw the girls this morning. We had a gorgeous walk on the beach. It was cold, though. The kids are clearing up their rooms – at least that’s what I asked them to do. How was the shop?’
‘It was a pretty good day, actually. I’ve decided I’m going to start getting out there to drum up new on-trade customers. We’ve always relied on Mack and his contacts until now, but I need to go and knock on some restaurant doors to see if we can get in to see them properly, show them some wines. But I’ll need you or Mack to come and lead the tasting bit. That’s way beyond my capabilities.’
‘Oh, come on, you’re getting good at this stuff. It might be time for you to do a wine course next.’ Flora laughed gently.
‘You must be joking. I saw what those exams did to you.’ He smiled back at her, reaching for an empty wine glass. ‘What’s open?’
‘Actually, this is lovely.’ She held up her glass. ‘Xinomavro.’
‘Zino-what?’ Johnny looked at the red wine, taking a sniff of her glass.
‘Xinomavro, it’s a Greek red grape variety. And it’s got something of the Nebbiolo about it.’
‘The Barolo grape?’ Johnny couldn’t help but look quite pleased with himself.
‘Exactly.’ Flora nodded in approval. ‘So it should, in theory, work with this.’ She pointed at the pan on the stove.
Johnny took a sip. ‘Oh, that is good. Might have to have one myself.’
Flora swirled her glass, sniffed and took a sip. ‘Earthy, but not too heavy. Good, isn’t it?’
