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‘Social media got my business off the ground.’ Stella picked up her phone.
‘Oh, I know it can be a force for good, but seriously, there’s so much rubbish on there too.’
‘Then don’t look at the rubbish.’ Stella tapped in her pin number.
‘I have to, they’re my clients.’ Lucy sighed and dropped her phone onto the duvet. ‘Right, I’m going to put some make-up on and do my hair.’ She took a handful of her thick, dark curls and pulled at them. ‘How long have we got?’
‘About ten minutes.’
‘I’d better get a move on, then.’ Lucy swung her legs round and disappeared into the bathroom.
Stella swiped at the last message, which she saw was from Caroline, a picture of the twins sitting in a restaurant with enormous pizzas and fizzy drinks in front of them, huge smiles on their faces. The caption said:
Having a lovely time! Hope you are too.
She typed a reply, saying that she too was having a lovely time, she missed them all and couldn’t wait to see them.
Stella looked at the screen on her phone. She tapped on the Instagram icon and opened the app. She did have a private account but hardly ever used it. One of her team managed the business account, but she knew her way round well enough to search for someone. Slowly, Stella typed a name into the search bar.
A list of Emily Parkers came up, just as they had before when she’d googled the woman’s name on her laptop. Stella scanned the tiny icons, wondering if she might be looking at the woman’s face without even knowing it.
Lucy came back into the room. ‘Who are you stalking?’ She peered over Stella’s shoulder.
‘I’m not really sure.’ As much as Stella wanted to carry on searching, she knew deep down it was fruitless. There just wasn’t enough to go on. Emily Parker might have changed her name by now. And anyway, she might just have been someone from Simon’s past who didn’t hold any answers for Stella at all. She shut the app and put her phone in her bag.
‘Well then, how about we go and watch the sunset instead?’
Stella got up and grabbed her cardigan from the back of the chair by the window. She looked out over the gardens, so peaceful and still. ‘I think that’s a much better idea.’
* * *
Having met in the hotel lobby and exchanged pleasantries with Ginevra, the four friends set off up the hill towards the Piazzale Michelangelo, past gushing fountains, up stone steps and finally reaching the huge square at the top, all a little out of breath.
‘God, he gets everywhere,’ said Bridget, looking up at the huge statue of David, as he gazed at city below.
They found a spot by the balustrade and stood side by side, taking in the view in contented silence. The enormous Duomo dominated the skyline, the square tower of the Palazzo Vecchio to one side, the Santa Croce to the other. The tall, flat buildings lining the Arno were in shadow, but the sunlight had thrown a magnificent orange glow over the roofs and the gently moving river seemed to change colour before their eyes, reflecting the sky as the water snaked slowly under the bridges. The sky changed from pale pink to deep orange as the sun dipped below the skyline, bathing the buildings in light before darkness crept in, fading out the cypress-covered hills beyond.
‘Well, this is quite the show.’ Sarah sighed. ‘I tell you what, though, I’m ready for something to eat.’
‘Me too,’ said Bridget. ‘To Santo Spirito?’
‘To Santo Spirito,’ said Stella, smiling.
The crowds that had gathered to watch the sunset dissipated as quickly as they’d grown and the friends set off back down the hill towards their chosen destination for dinner, a restaurant Ginevra had suggested.
‘But, first, we’re having a drink at a rooftop bar,’ Lucy said, picking up the pace at the thought of a chilled glass of white wine and a big bowl of olives.
They walked along the streets of Oltrarno towards the square, the tables filling it already busy with people by the time they arrived. They followed Lucy to a building on the corner, which turned out to be a rather smart-looking hotel, and made their way to the top floor, where the lift door opened onto a long, narrow terrace under huge stone arches overlooking the Tuscan countryside, the city behind them.
They settled on a table at the end, taking their seats on two rattan sofas topped with plush, cream cotton cushions. Stella ordered a bottle of white and moments later a bottle was brought to the table in an ice bucket, along with four enormous glasses. The waitress poured their wine and they clinked their glasses with another toast to Florence.
‘This is delicious, what is it?’ asked Sarah.
‘Vernaccia di San Gimignano,’ said Stella. ‘It’s a Tuscan white, I saw it on telly recently. Not this actual one, obviously. The one they had was from Sainsbury’s. But I recognised the name on the wine menu, and it was only about a third of the way down the list, so not too expensive.’
Lucy took a sip. ‘It’s absolutely delicious. Tastes of lemon peel.’
‘And almonds,’ said Sarah. ‘Gorgeous.’
