The burnished orangey-red sun was setting on the sea as they arrived in the beautiful bay of Santa Margherita, where the atmosphere was reminiscent of a timeless, old-world ritziness. Grace thought she could just imagine Elizabeth Taylor strolling along in a cream sheath dress and oversized shades, surrounded by paparazzi as she made her way back to a yacht moored in the harbour. The promenade was lined with palm trees and green slatted benches to sit on and admire the view. Elderly women clad in black serge dresses meandered along by a row of smart blue and white striped beach huts, with pots of pink and purple bougainvillea hooked onto the sides. Families with young children rambled over the pebbles on the beach and Grace sighed in contentment and appreciation to be in yet another wonderful part of beautiful Italy.

After checking in to the boutique hotel and admiring their adjoining rooms on the fourth floor with balconies, giving a splendid view of the coastline, they decided to take a walk to see if they could find Connie’s powder pink villa right away. Or at least get an idea of where it was so they could make a head start in the morning.

While Ellis had dealt with some work calls, Grace had spoken to an older guy on the desk in the hotel lobby; he had heard of the villa, explaining it was molto grande and set up high on the cliff top with lots of sunroofs and arched verandas, whose shape he had described with his hands, gesticulating animatedly. Grace had thought he was making a rainbow shape at first, only cottoning on when he had pulled out a mobile and shown her a picture of a villa with something similar. Interestingly, he had told her that the powder pink villa was where the artist had lived and that everyone locally knew of him but had rarely seen him. Un recluso, apparently. Until he died over twenty years ago! At which point Grace’s heart had sunk, this news making it harder to continue to harbour any hope of finding him as a living relative. And poor Connie, losing her truelove all over again. He was also able to give Grace a location for the powder pink villa … sort of – that it was beside an orange grove, at the end of a path, with the nearest proper road being called Via Arancia, which translated literally as Orange Road, she later discovered, on relaying the information to Ellis.

‘I think it’s all the way up there,’ Ellis said to Grace, looking at the maps app on his phone before pointing over her left shoulder and up a hillside far into the distance. The hotel where they were staying was near the seafront and so they could see that Connie’s villa would take some time to get to, and it would be dark soon. So instead, they crossed the road and headed towards a central piazza with a fountain in the middle and lots of narrow, cobbled lanes leading off it, which were lined with candlelit restaurants and cafés with sun-bleached striped canopies, in search of something to eat.

After choosing a fish restaurant and being seated at a lovely table under a yellow canopy with a perfect view of the fountain in the piazza where they could people-watch and soak up the evening’s atmosphere, they shared an enormous salt-baked sea bass with lemon and herbs, a Caprese salad and garlicky tomato bruschetta. Grace was enjoying a glass of white wine that the waiter had recommended from a local vineyard, when her mobile rang. On pulling the phone from her handbag and glancing at the screen to see that it was Bernie, her heart sank, and so she put the phone back in her bag and tried to ignore it. Her sister would only be calling to complain about something again, and she didn’t want anything to spoil so much as a second of the magical time she was having here in Italy.

Fortunately, the phone stopped ringing, and Grace took another mouthful of the crisp, yet fruity-flavoured wine and sat back in her seat feeling contented and relaxed. She was over her earlier embarrassment on the train, and now settled back into the easy and amicable yet professional conversations that she had enjoyed with Ellis in the café at home.

‘Everything OK?’ Ellis asked, lifting the empty wine bottle and motioning to the waiter to bring them another one, please.

‘Yes. It’s my sister …’ Grace told him, trying to sound breezy.

‘Take the call if you like, I don’t mind,’ he smiled.

‘Oh no, it’s fine. I’ll talk to her later,’ she said vaguely, helping herself to an olive from the bowl on the table.

‘Don’t you want to talk to her now?’ he asked.

‘Um, not really,’ she said, discarding the olive stone onto the side of her plate.

‘Why not?’ he asked, taking an olive too.

‘Oh …’ Grace paused, forgetting how direct he could be, but wondering what to tell him without having to explain it all and likely ruin the evening’s lovely ambience. She didn’t want anything to change the atmosphere, for she was feeling so relaxed, it was as if she had escaped to some place where nothing bad could ever happen. A bubble that she didn’t want to burst by talking about her real life. Not yet. She knew she would have to return to reality at the end of her time in Italy but, for now, she wanted to savour every second. ‘Well, it’ll be a tense conversation and I don’t want it to spoil the mood.’

‘Why is that?’

‘You really don’t want to know,’ she tried, but Ellis was having none of it.

‘Yes I do … and it might help to offload,’ he said, lifting one eyebrow.

‘OK,’ Grace sighed. ‘She’ll be calling to tell me off again,’ she settled on, hoping he wouldn’t pursue it, but of course he did.

‘Ah, does she make a habit of doing that?’ His forehead creased in concern.

‘Oh, yes.’ And Grace was just about to explain a bit more, if only to end the conversation and move it on to something else, when the phone rang again.

‘Guess you should answer, it might be important. It could be something to do with your mother …’ he said, and Grace stopped short as she hadn’t realised that he knew anything about Cora. She hadn’t talked about her in any of their previous conversations in the café, but there was no time to ask him how he’d heard about her as the phone stopped ringing, only to start up again almost immediately. Reluctantly, Grace pulled the phone from her bag.

‘Hi Bernie, how are you?’ she answered, the wine having relaxed her enough to attempt a more laid-back approach for a change.

‘Where on earth are you?’ Bernie started, skipping any pleasantries.

‘Italy. But I’m guessing you know that already or you wouldn’t be asking,’ Grace said, her buoyant mood deflating immediately.

‘Charming! And there’s no need to be flippant, Grace. It’s really not on, you know,’ Bernie huffed.

‘What do you mean? Being flippant, or me having some time off?’ Grace asked, glancing away from Ellis who was sorting out the second bottle of wine with the waiter, then topping up her glass and pouring some for himself.

‘You know what I mean. You swan off to Italy without so much as a courtesy call to let any of us know. Sinead and Mikey had no idea either. And Mum has been calling me, practically in tears. She’s devastated that you’ve gone off and left her with the neighbour. In fact, I couldn’t believe my own ears when she told me you had disappeared. What on earth possessed you to do such a thing?’

‘Stop it!’ Grace said, before gulping down a big mouthful of wine.’

‘I beg your par—’

‘Why must you always exaggerate so much?’ Grace was almost certain that their mother wasn’t devastated at all. Most likely, she couldn’t wait to see the back of Grace for all the complaining she did about everything Grace did for her. That was another thing that Grace had gained clarity of thought over since being away from her normal life: that her mother was an ungrateful, selfish cow (there, she had said the ‘c’ word again, if only in her head, Jamie would be pleased), who enjoyed tormenting the only one of her grown-up children who could be bothered to care for her.

‘Well, if you’re going to be like that,’ Bernie huffed.

‘Like what?’ But Grace didn’t wait for an answer, instead she took a deep breath and decided to stop this conversation before it turned into a row and then ruined her evening, and so changed tack with, ‘Look, Bernie. Mum is absolutely fine. I haven’t just left her with a random neighbour as you’re implying. I left her with Jamie, who we have all known for absolutely ever. He is very experienced and he’s actually a real nurse, remember, and Mum likes him, much more than she likes me, so I have no idea why she would be crying on the phone to you.’

‘What is that supposed to mean? What are you saying? That I’m lying?’ Bernie said, indignant.

‘No, that’s not what I’m saying.’ Grace mouthed, ‘sorry’ to Ellis, and he shook his head and smiled in solidarity before picking up his own phone and busying himself with looking at the screen. ‘Bernie, I’m saying that I will call Jamie later and make sure that Mum is OK.’

‘Well, if you had made an effort to call her before now, then you would know that she isn’t. She said that you left two days ago and you haven’t even phoned her once. You can’t just not bother with her, you know.’

‘That’s rich coming from you …’ Grace said, the words spilling out of her mouth before she had a chance to properly think through the consequences. She had wanted to avoid a full-blown argument, if only for her own self-preservation, and now she’d gone and lit the touch paper by confronting Bernie with her ‘lack of bother’ for their mother.

‘How dare you! I love my mother more than anyone. She means the world to me,’ Bernie exploded so passionately that, if Grace hadn’t known better, she might be convinced that her sister truly meant every single word. ‘And don’t you think I wished that I had time to look after her like you do, but I don’t, Grace. I’m a very, very busy person with a responsible job an—’

‘Sorry, Bernie. But I have to go.’ And Grace did what she wished she’d had the courage to do at least a year ago, and pressed to end the conversation with her sister, Bernadette, because there was no point in trying to make her see how far removed from the reality of the situation she was. Bernie was perpetually busy, and blinkered, and convinced that her life was a trillion times more stressful, or indeed important, than anyone else’s, and that’s just the way she was. Grace doubted if Bernie would ever change; she had been like it as a child, always trying to curry favour with their mother, to be her favourite, even if it meant telling tales or defending Cora’s criticism of her siblings. But it didn’t mean Grace had to put up with it any more. So, after dropping her phone back inside her bag, she drained the last of her wine and vowed to enjoy the rest of the evening, in fact all of the time she had left here in Italy. She would call home later. But for now she was going to work on the assumption that Jamie would, as he had promised to, let her know right away if Cora really was upset by her absence.

‘Top-up?’ Ellis said, lifting the bottle of wine.

‘Oh, yes please,’ she said, gratefully, pushing her glass towards the centre of the table.

‘I see what you mean, Bernie sounded very fierce,’ Ellis said, softly.

‘Could you hear?’

‘Sure, it was hard not to with her yelling at you like that. And sorry for probing you like I did before … guess you should have ignored the call after all. You look totally ashen.’

‘Sorry,’ Grace instinctively said, her kneejerk reaction to perceived criticism born from learning early on with caring for her mother that it was the best way for an easier life.

‘Hey, don’t apologise. I shouldn’t have been a jerk and interfered. It was none of my business.’ And he shook his head apologetically.

‘You did me a favour, I think …’ Grace said, tentatively.

‘I did?’ he asked, looking baffled.

‘Yes, standing up to Bernie isn’t what I would normally do, but I actually feel better for doing so,’ she said, nodding her head in confirmation.

‘Then that’s a good thing. Want to talk about it? I promise not to interfere again,’ he said, pouring her an extra generous measure of wine.

‘I shouldn’t really, it will only ruin a perfectly lovely meal.’ She busied herself with taking a piece of rustic bread from the basket and biting into it.

‘You wouldn’t be doing that. But I knew something was up, you’ve been …’ he paused, clearly searching for the right word, before settling on, ‘different, for the whole day.’

‘Oh, that’s not the reas—’ she muttered through a mouthful of the bread before washing it down with a big gulp of wine, but he quickly cut in.

‘Well, I’m a good listener, if you change your mind.’ And he momentarily touched his fingertips to the top of her bare arm, quickly moving his hand away seconds later, but not before Grace had felt a tingle that swirled right through her, almost making her gasp out loud. Inhaling through her nostrils, then letting out a long puff of air, she finished the wine, and then, after studying his face momentarily, their eyes meeting in a silent exchange, she told him all about it. Told him what her life was really like caring for a challenging parent and trying to navigate her way around Cora’s needs, plus dealing with her three oblivious siblings.

Ten minutes later, and Ellis was shaking his head in bewilderment. ‘Grace, I had no idea. I mean, I know that you’re a carer for your bedbound mother,’ he started, and then when she didn’t say anything, he expanded with, ‘Aunty Betty mentioned it.’ She glanced downwards at the table as he added, ‘But only in passing, and certainly not in any kind of judgemental way, I promise you, Grace.’

‘Why do you say that?’ she asked, picking at the cuticle on her left thumb.

‘Well, the way you shy away from talking about it, for starters, and the losing eye contact thing you do … that’s a dead giveaway that you feel embarrassed, or ashamed, perhaps. That others are judging you. Why is that, Grace?’ And he stared directly into her eyes.

Grace blinked and went to look away again, but swiftly brought her eyes back to meet his, determined not to prove him right about the eye contact thing. Yes, she knew she did it, but gosh, must he be so direct? Was it an American thing? Or maybe she just wasn’t used to people, men like Matthew and Phil, actually being interested in how she felt. Jamie of course did, but then they’d been friends for absolutely ages and so that was different somehow. And Grace hadn’t ever properly confided in Matthew, or Phil, about how she really felt about being Cora’s carer, so it was her own fault really …

‘Oh, um, err … I’m not really sure,’ she managed, taken aback.

‘Come on, Grace. What’s so wrong with being a carer? Other than it being damn hard work, I imagine.’

‘Yes. Yes, it is.’

‘Then hats off to you, it’s an admirable thing to do.’ And he nodded his head and laid his hands palms up on the table as if to underpin his statement.

‘I’ve never really looked at it like that,’ Grace said, letting her gaze fall now on the candle between them on the table. Ellis was looking at it too and so she figured he couldn’t really pass comment about the eye contact thing.

‘Why the heck not?’ he asked, his New Yorker accent seeming stronger all of a sudden.

‘Because … I don’t know, it’s not exactly something everyone needs to know about and, like you said, it’s damn hard work,’ she ventured, unsure from being put on the spot, but it was an answer at least.

‘Oh, I see. So it’s modesty. You’re doing a good thing, but must keep quiet about it in case people think you’re humble-bragging.’

‘Well, not exactly. I can’t just leave my mother on her own … someone has to look after her.’

‘Then tell me, because I honestly think you should be proud of yourself. What you do is amazing. I don’t think I could do it and I hope I’m never put in a position where I have to find out. But why don’t you talk openly about it? I imagine your mother appreciates you caring for her very much.’

Silence followed as Ellis waited for Grace to talk to him some more.

‘I might keep quiet about it because …’ She let her voice fade away.

‘Go on,’ he prompted.

‘Well, it might be because my mother can be very difficult and very unappreciative.’ There, she had actually said it out loud.

‘Grace, I’m sorry to hear that. In what way is she difficult?’ He raised his eyebrows.

‘Yes, I know it must be very hard for her with nothing to do except lie in bed all day watching TV, but she can be very ungrateful,’ Grace said quietly. ‘And unkind. Hurtful even,’ she added when Ellis didn’t say anything. He just listened, his eyes softening when she glanced up from the candle to look at him, wondering if she was saying too much, but he seemed interested. Really interested. And so she added in almost a whisper, ‘The stuff she says to me makes me feel utterly rubbish about myself. She knows all the buttons to push to make me doubt my capabilities, appearance, morals … everything. And it makes me feel ashamed.’

‘Oh Grace, that’s terrible, and it would be wrong of me to criticise your mother, so I won’t. But I will say that you must try not to let her manipulation and controlling behaviour define you. I imagine she is jealous of you and that’s her problem.’

‘But she’s my mother. I can’t just abandon her.’

‘Sure, I get that. But it doesn’t mean she has the right to deliberately hurt you. You are more than that, Grace. From where I’m sitting I see someone wonderful. You’re kind and compassionate – just look at how much you care about finding out the truth for Connie. And you are smart too.’ Grace felt her cheeks blushing. ‘Don’t ever doubt that. And you’re beautiful – the way your gorgeous green eyes light up when you smile. And your red curls—’ And for some unfathomable reason that Grace couldn’t explain, she interrupted him by blurting out, ‘What colour hair does Jennifer have?’ which momentarily seemed to throw him off kilter as his mouth opened and then closed before his forehead furrowed, he opened his mouth again and said, ‘Jennifer? Um, blonde. But it changes all the time. It could be pink the next time I see her.’

She nodded and pushed her chair back. ‘Err, I need the bathroom. Sorry. Be right back.’ And she dashed off inside the restaurant.

In the safety of the bathroom, she stared at her face in the mirror, wondering why on earth she would say such a ridiculous thing. Ellis was mostly likely sitting there now thinking she was some kind of fruit loop to come out with such a random question about hair colour. But she couldn’t work out where she was with him.

Is he flirting?

Or just being kind, trying to give me a boost?

If he’s flirting then he has no place to be and I should tell him so.

But I like it.

Splashing her face with water, she took a deep breath and willed herself to get a grip, telling herself he was just being friendly and kind. Of course he was.

After smoothing her sundress down and tidying her hair, she returned to the table where Ellis stood up and pulled her chair out.

‘Are you OK?’

‘Yes, I’m fine, thanks,’ Grace said, busying herself with sorting out the napkin which had dropped onto the floor in her haste to get away.

‘I didn’t mean to overwhelm you with compliments, and you don’t need my seal of approval at all, definitely not in a patronising, arrogant way … I hope it didn’t seem like that.’ Grace quickly shook her head. ‘I just wish you could see your qualities for yourself.’

‘Thank you,’ she smiled, swirling the last of her wine around the bottom of the glass. ‘Honestly, it’s OK, I appreciate you being kind.’ Ellis studied her for a moment, as if trying to work out whether to say something else, before seemingly deciding not to, then nodding and settling on, ‘Cool. And I say, more power to you for coming away to Italy. You sure need the break by the sounds of it and, from what you’ve told me about Jamie, I reckon he will take great care of your mother,’ Ellis said.

‘I’m sure he will. But I wish Bernie and the others could see it like that.’

‘I imagine Bernie probably does … deep down.’

‘Really? Why do you think that?’ she said, curious to hear his reasoning and feeling more relaxed now that he wasn’t paying her loads of compliments.

‘Because she knows that you do it all for your mother, and that she isn’t taking a fair share. And she feels extra guilty knowing that a neighbour is now taking care of Cora. That’s why she takes it out on you. Tries to make out you’re the inadequate one. They call it deflection.’

‘Do they?’ Grace marvelled, for she had never seen it this way. Only ever feeling as if she just wasn’t doing the caring for Cora well enough. But if what Ellis was saying was true, then it would make sense that Bernie, Sinead and Mikey were so keen to pack their mother off to a home or pay for her to be cared for by strangers. They would be doing their bit, albeit financially, but they wouldn’t feel guilty about leaving it all to her.

‘Yes, those psychotherapist types,’ Ellis grinned, and nodded as if attempting to convince himself that he really did know what he was talking about.

‘Ah, those types,’ Grace teased, making Ellis laugh by cupping her chin as if pondering deeply, the wine having made her a bit tipsy. But it was nice to be able to chat about being a carer, without the judgement that she had envisaged, which she had now come to realise was mostly in her head. The shame of how her mother made her feel, with the abusive comments and stuff, now eased slightly, and she felt stronger for sharing it with Ellis. Maybe she’d even look into care-home options when she got home … or at least start discussing it with Cora so they could come up with a longer-term plan for her care that worked for all of them.

Grace was determined to build on her new-found feelings of confidence and become more independent. She might even find a flat to rent. Now felt like the right time to do that; as much as she did love her mother, Grace couldn’t continue living the way she had been for the last year or so. Ellis was right, she was worth more than that. More than the daily taunts and jibes that Cora meted out.

‘Come on, you. How about we get out of here and find a gelato place,’ Ellis said, bringing her back to the moment. He pushed his chair back and stood up, then, after pulling his wallet out, he left more than enough euros on the table to cover the bill.

‘OK, I’d like that. But please let me pay for dinner,’ she said, going to hand the notes back to him. ‘You’ve paid for practically all the meals so far.’

‘No way. It’s my way of thanking you for being such great company this evening,’ he said, chivalrously. And, after helping her with pushing her chair back across the bumpy cobbles, he gently took her arm and looped it through his before leading them off towards the seafront.

*

Later, after strolling along the promenade, the lights from the boats twinkling in the warm, starry night sky, her arm still looped through his because Grace had convinced herself that he was just being friendly, in a brotherly sort of way. Or was she still secretly liking the way he was with her? Being so close to him. And so had thrown caution to the wind about Jennifer ever finding out? They had enjoyed deliciously creamy salted-caramel gelato in buttery waffle cones from a little café crammed full of locals – children too, even though it was late in the evening by the time they discovered it. And Grace had thought how marvellous it was that whole families were spending time together, socialising and laughing and chatting like they actually loved and cared about each other. Unlike her own family, which always seemed to be at loggerheads. But Cora had a lot to answer for with it being that way, as she had often set out to cause division between them all as children, often pitching Sinead, Bernie, Mikey and Grace against each other instead of fostering unity.

Grace and Ellis had eventually got back to the hotel, having laughed and teased each other all the way, trying each other’s gelato and rating it on a scale of one to ten, where he had asked if she wanted to share a nightcap in the hotel’s small bar. The way he had looked at her, brushing a stray strand of hair back over her shoulder had implied the possibility of the nightcap turning into something much more, and so Grace had politely declined. Ellis hadn’t pressured her, instead giving her kiss on the cheek and wishing her goodnight.

In her bedroom, Grace flopped on the bed and called Jamie, forgetting how late it was. He answered with, ‘What time do you call this, lady?’ in a low voice, presumably so as not to disturb Cora.

‘Oh, I’m so sorry, did I wake you up?’

‘Yes you did, but don’t worry about that. Are you having a fabulous time?’ And then not waiting for an answer he continued with, ‘Don’t tell me you’re calling to check on your mother because I can tell you that she is absolutely golden. In fact, she is currently snoring away, perfectly contentedly. I can hear her from across the landing.’

‘Really?’ Grace said, imagining Jamie in the spare bedroom trying to block out Cora’s thunderous snores.

‘Yes, really.’

‘Sorry, I know how loud she can be.’

‘Don’t you dare apologise,’ he chastised halfheartedly. ‘And her ladyship hasn’t once called out in the night since I’ve been on duty, so you might want to have a chat to her about it when you get home. All that wanting the lamp switched on and needing the loo and stuff is a ruse, I reckon. Designed to get you at it … to make a fuss of her.’

Grace fell silent for a moment, taking in what Jamie was telling her. So Bernie really had been fibbing in that case. Grace knew it, but part of her couldn’t believe it for sure, until now.

‘But why would she do that?’

‘I don’t know, and I’m not about to waste time wondering what goes on in her head. And nor should you, sweetheart. Not when you are in bella Italia.’

‘Hmm. Has Bernie been in touch?’ Grace ventured.

‘Oh, yes, that madam called the house phone and then had the temerity to tell me off when I answered … for “letting you run off to Italy at the drop of a hat”.’ And Grace could just see him doing quote signs in the air with his fingers before rolling his eyes.

‘I’m sorry, Jamie,’ she groaned inwardly.

‘Oh purlease, honey, stop apologising. I soon put her right. Bernadette Quinn doesn’t rattle my cage. And she should know that from the time she tried to lock me in the shed when we were kids.’

‘Ah, yes I remember that. Her face was a picture when you found that loose panel and escaped, only to tip a bucket of freezing cold water all over her new Sarah Jessica Parker-style perm, complete with the oversized pink bow on top,’ she laughed.

‘Yes, hilarious – howled for hours she did!’ he replied, laughing too at their shared memory.

‘And sorry about Phil turning up … he phoned me, and—’

‘Ugh,’ Jamie responded dramatically. ‘What did you ever see in that caveman? He said you were dumped so I’m presuming it’s OK to slag him off now?’ He paused and Grace could hear him drawing breath as he checked.

‘Ah, yes. Sorry if he was rude to you,’ she swiftly confirmed.

‘Grace, the guy could barely string a sentence together properly, and as for his silly alpha-male posturing when he managed to galvanise his two brain cells into action and work out that I’m gay … well, it serves him right that he tripped over his own feet when he stormed off down the street. Face-planted the pavement, he did. Trust me, he won’t be knocking on your door any time soon.’

‘Why, what did you say to him?’ Grace resisted the urge to giggle.

‘Only that he should think himself lucky you were on the rebound after Matthew, as he was punching so high it’s a wonder he didn’t get altitude sickness. Honestly, Grace, he really is a bit bottom of the barrel, to be fair. Anyway, enough about Bernie and that dollop, Phil: tell me about Italy. And Ellis. What’s he like? He’s American isn’t he? Has he made a move on you yet?’

‘Shhhussshh,’ Grace instinctively said, conscious that Ellis was on the other side of the adjoining wall. ‘That’s the other reason I’m calling you.’

‘Oooh! Have you snogged him then?’ Jamie asked, his voice full of glee.

‘Nooo. Of course I haven’t,’ Grace admonished.

‘Well, you could do worse. I heard he’s a bit of a catch, to put it in Betty’s words.’

‘What do you mean? When did you and Betty talk about Ellis?’

‘That time I was waiting for you, before we went over to Connie’s flat. Between me and you, I got the impression that she’s hoping cupid might make a little appearance while you two are in bella Italia,’ he said with a flourish.

‘Don’t be daft,’ she reacted.

‘Well, Betty said you and he would make such a lovely couple.’

‘But he has a girlfriend,’ she told him, wondering why Betty would say such a thing, or perhaps Jamie was embellishing the conversation with Betty; it wouldn’t be the first time he’d tried to engineer a hook-up. When she had first split up with Matthew, Jamie had tried to set up a blind date for her with one of the doctors at the hospital where he worked … and it had all been very awkward.

‘Really? Oh that’s a shame, Betty never mentioned it,’ Jamie said, sounding deflated. ‘Or maybe Betty doesn’t like the girlfriend? Yes, that could be it … perhaps the whole family hates her and this trip to Italy is a big plan to sideline her in favour of you. Oh Grace, wouldn’t that be amazing? You could live in LA or wherever it is he comes from. Of course, I’d have to join you, what with being your best friend and all,’ he laughed, seemingly having it all worked out.

‘New York. He lives in New York,’ Grace interjected, and then promptly followed up with, ‘but don’t get carried away. He’s getting engaged. And anyway, there’s absolutely nothing going on between Ellis and me.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes I’m sure. But …’ Grace stopped talking.

‘I knew it. Something has happened hasn’t it?’

‘No. Well, yes, he’s been a bit flirty … I think.’

‘What do you mean “you think”? Either he is or he isn’t, what’s he done?’ And Grace told him about what happened at the airport and on the train and then tonight, how attentive he was, the compliments and then the arm looping thing and touching her hair. Silence followed. Then, ‘He fancies the pants off you! A man doesn’t say or do stuff like that unless he wants you. And that’s the top and bottom of it!’ Jamie declared.

‘Must you be so dramatic?’ she whispered. ‘What if I’m just being desperate?’

‘What do you mean, desperate?’ he puffed, as if the very notion was preposterous.

‘You know, imagining it all. It’s been a while. Maybe I’m out of touch and he’s just being friendly, a shoulder to cry on as it were …’

‘Oh, Grace, please tell me you didn’t cry on him? I want you to be having the time of your life, not feeling sad.’

‘No, not literally crying, as in crying actual tears. I just talked about Cora, what it’s really like looking after her. You know, how cruel she can be. And how indifferent the others are about it all.’

‘Ah, well that’s OK. Not that it’s OK what Cora says, and I will have a word with her before you get back. But it’s OK that you feel relaxed enough with Ellis to talk to him. I’m liking the sound of him already.’

‘But what if I’m letting my neediness and loneliness or whatever you want to call it get in the way of proper, rational thought. It could just be wishful thinking, that someone like Ellis would fancy me. It’s not like real life here. It’s a bit like being in a dream, in fact …’

‘OK, Grace, listen to me. Firstly you are not desperate. You are bloody gorgeous. You are bright, caring and kind,’ he said, echoing Ellis’s words from earlier in the restaurant. ‘Plus, you can knit the longest scarves in the entire universe.’

‘Oi, I thought you liked my scarves,’ she laughed.

‘I do, but they are a bit long, to be fair.’

‘OK. Maybe I do get carried away, but there isn’t much else to do when you’re sitting up all night on watch duty with a bedbound mother.’

‘Well, you’ll be able to knock that on the head when you get home and get a proper night’s sleep, as madam does not need her lamp turning on every five minutes! Anyway, getting back to the flirtation theory: he looped your arm through his, remember, you didn’t run after him all whiny-like and pleading, “Please Ellis, please, please, please flirt with me because I’m just sooo needy” …’

‘Ha-ha, you know what I mean, Jamie.’

‘No, I don’t. Tell me,’ he said, annoyingly.

‘Well, it’s been a while, since, well, since I first dated Matthew, so what if I’m reading it all wrong and Ellis isn’t being flirty at all? Just friendly. I know how casual it can all be these days, what with “swiping right” to hook up for sex.’

‘Oh, don’t be daft, Grace. You don’t just stop knowing if someone is flirting with you. Trust me, he is flirting.’

‘But he has a girlfriend, remember!’ Grace whisper-yelled right into the phone.

‘And? You don’t know her. And she’s not there. So what happens in Italy stays in Italy.’

‘Stop it. I couldn’t do that to another woman. It’s not right. You’re terrible.’

‘Am I? Or are you just virtue-signalling?’

‘Virtue-what?’ she asked, baffled.

‘Oh never mind,’ Jamie said, letting out a long puff of air. ‘Grace, you don’t know Jennifer, you don’t owe her anything.’

‘Oh, come on, what about the girl code? You know how destroyed I was when I caught Matthew—’

‘Forget about Matthew. And forget about that awful one with the horse teeth—’

‘Horse teeth?’ Grace quickly interjected.

‘Yes, that yoga one with the great big galloping horse teeth. Honestly, Grace, I don’t know why you have her on a pedestal the way you do – she really isn’t much of a looker. Not that it’s all about looks, but you know what I mean. You are a million times more beautiful than she is. Inside and out.’ Silence followed. ‘And no, I’m not just saying that because you’re my best friend. I’m saying it because it’s true. And can I tell you something else too while I’m at it?’

‘Why not? Seeing as you’re on a roll,’ she quipped, bracing herself for what was about to come.

‘Good. Can you tell that I’m feeling brave with you hundreds of miles away and not next door like you usually are?’ And he paused to take a deep breath before launching back in with, ‘If you stopped using what happened to detach yourself from life – yes, it was disgusting and shitty and heartbreaking what Matthew did – but nobody died and now you have to let it go. Move on already, Grace.’

‘You know, I had already come to that conclusion,’ she jumped in.

‘Excellent. So we are on the same page. You can do this, Grace. You can get your life back and move on. You always could. Look at you now. In gorgeous Italy. And you travelled there all by yourself by putting one foot in front of the other without counting a single step, I trust?’

‘That’s right.’

‘Well, there you go. You are strong, Grace. Now, get your backside out there, darling, and live your best life!’

‘And that told me,’ Grace thought as she ended the call …