Prologue
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A trickle of sweat made its way down Olivia Kennedy’s forehead, and she wiped it away with the back of her hand. She was struggling with the Italian heat, unseasonably warm for late May, and was beginning to find the crowds a bit overwhelming. It was only day three on her tour of the Amalfi Coast, and there were another four to go. So far she had visited Naples and Pompeii, though thanks to her current brain fog she could have been anywhere. She could barely recall any actual facts about one of the world’s most famous archaeological sites. All she remembered was people, lots of people, and cobbled streets, which frustrated her hugely and made her feel like her brain was shrouded in a cloud of dust. It was no wonder, she supposed.
This hadn’t exactly been the best place to lick her wounds, or to have some headspace to contemplate what had gone wrong with her life. Yet, if she was really honest with herself, she already knew the answer to that. It was obvious what had gone wrong. She just wasn’t ready to admit it. It was easier and safer just to run.
Naples was the first place she could get a flight to when she’d decided to leave New York. She had recently finished touringwithLet’s Dance, the US’s top-rated celeb dance competition. But with no work lined up in the immediate future, and nobody she wanted to stick around for, she decided to bolt. She had always wanted to visit Italy. It wasthedestination for romance, not to mention delicious food and wine and stunning scenery. Yet, ironically, here she was, alone. She hadn’t really thought it through before impulsively booking the flight. She took a jagged breath in and pulled her sunglasses down over her eyes as the tears started to well.Again.
Today’s excursion was to the island of Capri, and the coach had dropped the group off at the port. She fidgeted in the heat as their tour guide, Giuliano, patiently explained the procedure for getting on the boat and where to meet when they reached the island. This then led to the inevitable supplementary questions, with a particular focus on where the toilets were, from the people in the group who seemed to treat Giuliano as their teacher. The usual suspects asked the same questions every time. It was actually quite fascinating to watch grown adults become fairly helpless once out of their comfort zone.
Arriving in Naples, Olivia had signed up to the first tour she could get, hence finding herself with this party of British holidaymakers for a week. It wasn’t quite how she imagined her Italian escape. An all-female family from Glasgow had taken her under their wing when they realised she was travelling solo.
‘You stick with us, hen,’ said the woman she now knew to be Granny Margaret. ‘We’ll keep an eye on you. You don’t want to be wandering these streets on your own.’
Olivia had nodded and smiled, really not wanting to talk to anyone. But Margaret and her daughter, Isobel, and Isobel’s daughter, Bella, had persevered when they’d all clambered onto the coach, insisting that she sit in the back row with them.
‘Is this your first time in Italy?’ asked Bella.
Olivia had nodded, her stomach in knots — she hoped Bella wouldn’t probe too deeply.
‘Ours too. We normally go to Spain, but we thought we’d do something different this year,’ said Margaret. ‘Isobel’s man has left her, good riddance to him, so me and Bella thought we’d do something a bit more special to cheer her up.’
Olivia had noticed Isobel roll her eyes at her mother.
‘You don’t have to tell everyone, Mum. I mean, do you want to go down the front and announce it to the whole bus? Maybe they’ll give you a microphone so the folk on the street can hear too.’
‘Och, stop being so touchy. It’s not like I’m tellingeveryone.’
‘Aye, you are. You can’t keep your mouth shut.’
‘Aw wheesht,’ said Margaret.
Olivia was transfixed by their interactions, even though she couldn’t always quite work out what they were saying. Despite feeling jet-lagged, she couldn’t help but smile. When the bus had arrived at the port, they all clambered off and she was grateful for their company.
‘Anyway,’ continued Margaret, ‘Italy’stheplace for romance. And you know what they say about Italian men?’ She paused for good measure, looking at Isobel meaningfully. ‘A wee holiday fling could do you the world of good.’ She cackled, then turned to face Olivia. ‘What about you, dear? Do you have a man?’
Olivia shook her head. And she really didn’t want another one either.
‘Better to be young, free and single. Like me,’ said Margaret.
‘Oh, Granny,’ said Bella, with a scornful smile. ‘You’re a total embarrassment, so you are.’
Olivia laughed at Bella and then turned to admire the view of the bay, dotted with white boats and people swimming in the deep-blue waters. Despite thinking that male appreciation was beyond her right now, she couldn’t help but notice areallyhandsome local who looked like an aftershave model or maybe an actor.
‘He’s totally checking you out, so he is,’ whispered Isobel who stood next to her. She nudged Olivia and jerked her head very obviously in the direction of the tall, broad-shouldered man just metres away. He raked his hand through his hair and smiled at the women. Thank goodness for her sunglasses. She could just pretend she wasn’t looking at him at all.
‘Oh, will you check him out. He’s a total Fabio,’ said Isobel, fanning herself with a tourist leaflet.
‘Where, who?’ said Margaret, spinning around in a frantic circle.
‘Over there. You can’t miss him,’ said Isobel.
‘Mum!’ Bella said sharply to her mum. ‘Will you put your tongue back in your mouth and stop panting.’
‘All right. Just pointing out the local talent,’ she retorted. ‘I thought that was why you brought me here.’
