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‘I love that we’re heading to a city filled with some of the most incredible art in the world and all we’re thinking about is what we’re going to eat and drink.’ Stella was laughing now too.
‘Obviously.’ Lucy winked at her cousin. ‘We couldn’t possibly admire David on an empty stomach.’
11
They arrived before sunset, the taxi speeding towards the city centre and crossing the Arno before weaving its way through increasingly narrow streets towards their hotel. The sun bounced off the water, glinting as the river beckoned them on towards the heart of Florence. Stella took in the glorious skyline with the unmistakable orange dome of the cathedral, the bell towers and surrounding hills. It looked almost dreamlike.
Bridget and Sarah had settled on a small, family-run place on the south side of the river. They’d managed to bag the last two rooms and the location was perfect. As the group of friends spilled from the taxi into the entrance of the hotel, they took in their surroundings with excitement. They were in an old converted private house, complete with impossibly shiny, wooden parquet flooring and enormous chandeliers hanging from the high ceilings. A mix of antique furniture alongside more modern pieces made the space inviting rather than grand and when they walked through to the lounge, two enormous windows overlooked an exquisite garden at the back, a great swathe of green bordered by cedar, oak, horse chestnut and cypress trees. At one end, a large bell tower rose above the trees like a lone candle left on a cake.
The owner, a stylish woman in her sixties, greeted them warmly. ‘Hi, I’m Ginevra. Welcome to Florence.’ She had a wide smile, her grey hair swept up into a neat bun at the back. ‘Let me show you straight to your rooms so you can drop your bags, then we can sort out the paperwork afterwards.’ She led them up the stairs and along a narrow corridor to their rooms. Although small with sloped ceilings, both had a free-standing bath, much to the friends’ delight. Lucy and Stella took one room, Bridget and Sarah the other, and they agreed to meet on the terrace overlooking the garden to discuss their intended plan of action for the evening.
The sun still shone in the early-evening sky, clouds scudding gently by.
Sarah made her way up to the terrace to find Lucy already sitting at a table, sunglasses on, her fingers quickly swiping at her phone screen.
‘I’ve got drinks coming. Goodness, isn’t this glorious?’ Sarah looked out across the garden below.
‘Stunning,’ said Lucy, without looking up. ‘I’ve found somewhere for us to go for pre-dinner snacks, too. It’s a tiny square not far from here.’ She peered at the screen, ‘Piazza della Passera. Then I thought we could head up to the Ponte Vecchio to see the sunset over the river, then a quick spin around the outside of the Duomo before heading back this side for dinner.’
‘Sounds perfect,’ said Sarah, though she didn’t like to say she would be happy just sitting exactly where she was for the entire evening with this view. Sarah glanced behind her, then back to Lucy. She lowered her voice. ‘How do you think Stella’s doing? Do you think she’s all right?’
Lucy looked up, perching her sunglasses on her head. ‘I think so. Obviously, there’s the whole brave-face thing going on. I honestly can’t imagine how she must feel, but I’m just hoping this break really does help take her mind off everything, even if just for a little bit.’
Sarah pulled a chair out from the table, taking a seat next to Lucy. ‘I know. I do remember how awful this bit of the process is, not that mine was anything like as bad.’
‘Oh god, of course you can. I’m so sorry, Sarah.’ Lucy looked mortified. For a moment, she’d totally forgotten that Sarah had been through a divorce years before.
‘Please don’t apologise, it’s really fine. And anyway, that was a long time ago, now.’ Sarah sat back in her seat and put her face up to the still warm sun. ‘Also, he was a massive arsehole, which kind of helps, to be honest.’ She laughed.
‘I know, but still, it must have been hard deciding to leave in the first place.’
‘You’re right, it was. There were so many times when I told myself life would be easier if I stayed. Things weren’t that bad. But that was the problem, really. They weren’t bad, but they weren’t that good, either. They were just… OK. And I didn’t want to feel just OK for the rest of my life. I knew I didn’t love Stuart enough and I still think, if he was completely honest with himself, he would say he didn’t really love me enough either. We’d just drifted along for so long. Which is bonkers really, because we ended up both being unhappy but not honest enough to admit it.’
‘So, what changed?’ Lucy had always wondered, but Sarah was usually so private about her relationships, they’d never really discussed the circumstances of her divorce in detail.
‘Hurtling towards my mid-forties and realising I was, touch wood,’ Sarah looked around for wood before briefly touching the side of her head, ‘around halfway through my life and I didn’t want to sleepwalk through the rest of it. We so easily could have done, but I knew it was better for both of us to part as friends, not stay together until we really hated each other, you know? And it’s not like we had children to worry about.’
Lucy nodded, but they both knew Lucy didn’t know. In fact, Lucy had absolutely no idea how that could happen, given she was married to a man she clearly adored and who, in turn, seemed to love her with all his heart. Lucy had met Al in the first week of her job when he’d held the door of the lift open for her and they’d talked all the way to the sixth floor. Turned out he’d pretended to be going to the sixth floor just so he could find out where she sat (she later realised he worked in the finance department on the second floor). He’d regularly invented reasons to be on the same floor as Lucy in the hope of bumping into her (without success) until a few weeks after that they’d once again been in the same lift going down. Sadly, that time they hadn’t been alone and despite having mentally rehearsed asking her out for drinks, Al hadn’t had the chance to speak to her before she’d left the lift.
Eventually, their paths had crossed at an impromptu drinks party thrown on the fourth floor by a team celebrating a particular signing and, this time, Al went straight over to Lucy as soon as he saw her. They’d gone out for drinks after work that evening and became firm friends for almost two years before Lucy looked at him one day and realised her feelings were a lot stronger than friendship. When she finally plucked up the courage to tell him, helped by two enormous glasses of warm Pinot Grigio at a book launch she’d dragged him along to, he’d asked what had taken her so long, although frankly she could have said the same to him. Nearly twenty years of marriage and two children later, despite being quite different on paper, they were entirely complementary as a couple. A formidable team with a relationship built on respect and the fact that Al made Lucy laugh like a drain.
‘Anyway, this trip’s definitely not the place for me to talk about my ex-husband,’ whispered Sarah, nodding her head towards Stella and Bridget, now making their way across the terrace to join them at the table, followed by a young waiter bearing a tray with glasses and an unopened bottle.
‘Well, this is a bit bloody all right, don’t you think?’ Bridget took in the view before grinning at her friends and taking a seat on the other side of the table.
‘Look at you, Stella,’ Lucy whistled.
Stella smoothed down her pale blue cotton dress. Her hair was still wet and her skin pink from the shower she’d just taken. She folded herself into the free chair and crossed her legs, the silver espadrilles on her feet catching the light. ‘Stop it.’ She smiled at her cousin across the table.
‘Skin and bone, though.’ Bridget reached across and gently pinched Stella’s arm. ‘I’ll make it my personal mission to fatten you up over the next few days.’ She picked up her glass of Prosecco as the waiter finished pouring the other glasses.
Sarah frowned at Bridget. ‘Hey, don’t make her feel worse, she looks great.’
‘No, I know she’s right. The heartbreak diet might be the only one I’ve ever done with instant results, but I really don’t recommend it. Bloody nightmare.’ Stella laughed at her own understatement. ‘Anyway, here’s to us being here. Thank you for making this happen.’ Stella looked each of her friends in the eye and clinked their glasses in turn. ‘Here’s to getting lost for a few days.’
‘To getting lost,’ they chimed, before taking their first sip under the Tuscan sun.
* * *
