‘Remember when your Uncle Jim passed away, God rest his soul, and your Aunty Morag upped sticks and went to live in Spain? She regretted it. I knew she would.’
‘This isn’t the same, Mum.’
‘I’m just saying you should wait a wee bit longer before chucking in your job and going abroad. If, in another year—’
‘Mum, I’ve had more than enough time to think about this. Even before the wedding fiasco, I felt I needed a change – a big change, and as soon as I saw that ad something told me this was my chance and that I should grab it before it was too late. I’m not going to change my mind.’
Lucy decided now was not the time to tell her mum that on the same day she’d applied for the job in Italy, she’d discovered she’d been shortlisted for the Deputy Headteacher post.
‘They’re building some lovely wee houses near the town centre. I’ve talked to your father about it and we’re happy to cash in some of our Premium Bonds to help with the deposit. But you’ll have to get your name down quick. Mark my words, they’ll go like hot cakes.’
‘How many times must we have this conversation?’
‘I could murder Stewart. Still, plenty more fish in the sea,’ her mum ploughed on over-brightly. ‘And with all this online dating, it’s only a matter of time. Your Aunty Morag has just met a lovely man through something called…Tender. Why don’t you give it a go?’
‘Tinder,’ said Lucy. ‘I don’t want to meet anyone right now. Ineed to be on my own for a while – travel, experience new things, try different food, meet new people, improve my Italian…’
There was a long silence as they both stared into their coffee.
‘I see.’ Lucy’s mum put down her cup, voice registering defeat. ‘And you’re going to live in, you say?’
Lucy nodded.
‘But you don’t know these people.’
‘We’ve spoken on Zoom lots of times.’
‘Zoom? They could be posing as anyone.’
‘Says you, who’s desperate for me to try my luck onTinder.’
‘And I’ve heard Naples is a dirty and dangerous city, what with the Mafia and a volcano about to blow any minute…’
‘Mum, you’re being dramatic.’ Lucy groaned and rolled her eyes. ‘You’ve been watching too many Robert De Niro films. And as for Mount Vesuvius, the last time it erupted was… was…hundredsof years ago. Hundreds.’
Taking her phone from her pocket, Lucy scrolled through her photos and leaned towards her mum. ‘Look, this is where I’m going. Isn’t it beautiful?’
Mrs Anderson lowered her glasses onto her nose.
‘It’s a beautiful old villa, converted into flats. We’re on the first floor. It’s situated in a quiet spot off the main road, near the shops. There’s a garden here, at the side,’ Lucy continued excitedly. ‘My room is at the back, which faces directly onto the sea. And look, I’ve even got my own balcony.’
‘I’m sure it’s lovely, pet, but you’ve got everything you could wish for here: the beach, nice restaurants, a good job, your friends, beautiful countryside –andit’s safe.’
‘I’m going, Mum. Please be happy for me.’
Lucy had felt an easy, natural connection with Elena during those Zoom meetings. She had talked a lot about her son, Stefano,but there had been no mention of a husband or partner. But then, why should there be one? Lots of women chose single motherhood, didn’t they? Perhaps she too should have gone it alone, instead of hanging around for Stewart. Oh well, no point in thinking about that now. She didn’t want to concentrate on what life lacked, but what it offered – like this opportunity to live and work in Italy – a dream which didn’t now require anyone’s validation or approval.
Lucy paid the taxi driver and hauled her bags onto a trolley. Entering the airport terminal, she was sharply reminded of the day when everything changed – just four, or was it five months ago now, on her way to The Wedding That Never Was.
How unpredictable life could be, she thought. If things had gone to plan, she’d now be a Glasgow housewife, doing the weekly shop, taking the bins out, buying plants at the garden centre, ordering a Friday night takeaway, going to the pub or the curry house on the corner on a Saturday night – and maybe even pregnant.
Boarding card and passport in hand, Lucy made her way to the departure lounge and ordered a coffee. Having holidayed mainly in Scotland, international travel was still a big adventure for her.
With plenty of time to spare, she leaned back in her chair and indulged in a little people-watching: there was the suited businesswoman on her Apple Mac, phone clasped to her ear, cabin bag on wheels, a copy of theEconomistpoking out of her leather briefcase; the young family, parents juggling excited children, a pushchair and enough luggage for a round-the-world trip, looking like they wished they were back home; a noisy hen party at the bar, wearing pink cowboy hats and sashes, knocking back shots, duty free bagsat their feet; a dashing pilot sporting aviator shades, followed by a bevy of glamorous cabin crew in stylish uniform and vertiginous heels, striding confidently through the terminal, like a scene fromCatch Me If You Can.
It surprised Lucy how quickly she had come to terms with her new reality; single, about to move to a new country, to start a new job, to live with people she’d never met. She felt empowered, and secretly proud she was now drawing a line in the sand and moving on. She had told herself that she was stronger than she thought.
‘Cabin crew, prepare for take-off.’
