The Heavenly Italian Ice Cream Shop Part 17

Matteo shook his head and Anna saw that he was trying hard to keep his fury under control.

'You're sure?' Anna asked.

'Yes. I knew something was wrong. I looked through his credit-card bills and saw that he'd been staying in hotels and having expensive meals out when he had told me he was away on business.'

'Did he admit to it?' Matteo said.

'No, of course not. That would have made life far too easy.' She shook her head. 'He told me I was being paranoid, that I was wrong to have been looking through his things.'

'That's terrible,' Anna said.

She shrugged. 'It's hard. You doubt yourself. I've lost sight of who's right and who's wrong. Maybe I did something to push him away.'

'Nothing you did would mean you deserve to be cheated on,' Matteo said. 'You're going to divorce him, right?'

Anna gave Matteo a stern look, hoping that he'd understand and go in a little bit more softly.

Carolina looked up, tears in her eyes.

'You're too good for him, Caro.' Matteo said.

'I just need time to think clearly,' she said. 'That's all.'

Chapter 23.

In the early hours of a warm July morning, Imogen checked over the contents of her suitcase: summer trousers, three bikinis, flip-flops and a sunhat on top of some other clothes. Then she got her camera bag ready. Everything that she'd need for a trip to the Amalfi coast.

She couldn't wait to see Anna, and feel the sun on her face again. It was the right time for a trip away. Over the past few weeks, Evie had proved herself to be a complete natural at Vivien's; and, at the guesthouse, Martin had found his feet. So Imogen wasn't leaving anyone in the lurch. She had just one reservation, linked to the guesthouse: she was concerned about Clarissa. After seeing her father's descent into depression, she didn't want the same thing to happen again. Imogen had asked her mum to check in on Clarissa while she was away, to make sure that she was OK.

There was just one more thing to pack. She got a folder out of her top drawer and slipped it into her hand luggage. Inside were the letter and photos she'd found, along with the map from the guesthouse, folded up. In Italy she would find out what had happened. She would make some sense of the muddle everything seemed to have become.

She looked over at Finn, still sleeping in bed. The man she loved, but now felt so distant from. A few days and she'd be clearer about everything, she reasoned. She closed her suitcase and checked the time.

Finn stirred. 'Are you going?' he asked, drowsily rubbing his eyes. He looked so adorable like that, still half asleep.

'Yes,' she said. 'The cab's going to be here any minute.'

'Have fun,' he said. 'I'll miss you.'

She bent down beside him and kissed him, then pressed her face into the warm skin of his shoulder and neck. For that moment everything felt all right.

'I'll call you when I get there,' she said.

'Sure. Give my love to Anna and Matteo and a hug for Bella,' he said. 'Tell them next time I'll be there too.'

A text buzzed through to Imogen's phone announcing that the cab was there. 'Taxi.'

'I love you,' Finn said, simply and clearly.

'Me too,' Imogen said.

The words caught. It wasn't that they weren't true they were. But it felt as if they weren't the only thing that mattered any more.

Part Three.

Chapter 24.

That Sunday, Anna smiled with delight as she saw her sister walking into the arrivals hall, in a bright-orange, patterned sarong and strappy black top, her sungla.s.ses perched on top of her head. She dashed over and hugged her.

'I can't believe you're really here,' Anna said, holding her tight.

'Hold up,' Imogen said, laughing. 'You're squeezing the life out of me here. Have you really missed me that much?'

'I have, actually,' Anna said.

'Aw, that's sweet. I've missed you a bit too. How's Bella? Matteo?'

'They're good, thanks,' Anna said. 'Matteo's running the shop today, and Carolina's with Bella. I wanted to have my sister to myself for a little bit. Come and jump in the car, let's get going.'

They loaded Imogen's suitcase into the back of the car, and hit the road back to Sorrento.

'How's the shop?' Imogen asked, tying her hair up into a loose topknot.

'It's doing really well, thanks. Busy. This place is great and we've opened at just the right time of year to build a good buzz around the business, and-'

'So what is it that's making you unhappy?' Imogen asked, studying her sister's face. 'Because I can see something's wrong.'

'Let's stop for a drink,' Anna said. 'I'll tell you all about it.'

They stopped at a bar by the coast, half an hour short of Sorrento itself. Out of earshot of Matteo's family, Anna felt liberated. With Imogen she could say what she wanted without fear of it going back to the wrong (or the right) person. The waiter brought them over two tall gla.s.ses of chilled Prosecco.

'First things first: here's to you being here,' Anna said, raising hers.

'Here's to me being here,' Imogen said, c.h.i.n.king her gla.s.s with her sister's.

'So what is it? Spill. Is it Matteo's mum still?'

'Yes,' Anna said, relieved to be able to open up about it. 'She keeps meddling in everything. With the business, with Bella . . .'

'Worse than Mum?' Imogen asked.

'Oh, G.o.d, she makes Mum look like a saint.' Anna laughed. 'But it's not just her. It's Matteo. When he's with me, he's strong and confident but five minutes with his mum and he'll roll over and accept whatever she says.'

'Really?' Imogen said, surprised.

'I know. I'm trying to understand, but it's like there's a different side to him that I've never seen before.'

'You should say something,' Imogen urged. 'It doesn't sound like it's going to settle on its own.'

'But she's his mother,' Anna said, shaking her head. 'Family is everything to Matteo. I don't want to make him feel he has to choose sides.'

'So what's the alternative? You keep quiet, and go slowly mad with it all?'

'Don't be dramatic, Imo,' Anna said, smiling in spite of herself.

'I'm serious,' Imogen protested.

'I can't,' Anna said.

'Right. Well, if you really are refusing to get this out in the open, then at least come out with me and let off some steam tonight.'

'That sounds like a perfect compromise,' Anna said, laughing.

Back at the apartment in the late afternoon, Imogen was sitting out on the balcony painting her toenails. Anna stepped outside to join her.

'Good news,' she said, brightly. 'Matteo's looking after Bella for the night. So I'm officially free to show you some of the local highlights.'

'Great,' Imogen said.

'Nice colour,' Anna said, admiring her toes.

'Thanks. So, what's the plan? Dress code?'

Anna laughed. 'Well, we're starting at Luigi's.' She pointed out of the window at the humble restaurant across the square, currently populated by the lunchtime crowd of flip-flop-clad tourists complete with beach inflatables. 'It does get a little more elegant at night, and there are people out here promenading, but I'd say you'd be just fine in what you're wearing.'

'That's good, because I packed fairly light this time. You know what the budget-airline restrictions are like these days. I was hoping I'd get by on mixing and matching a few separates.'

'You'll be fine. No one's very dressy over here. It's just Capri where you'll have to up your game. You're still planning a trip there, right?'

'Yes, definitely. Just before I leave. Can I tempt you to come too?'

Anna's face fell a little. 'I'd love to, but I can't what with the shop and everything . . .'

'OK, well, we'll just have to cram in as much fun as possible in my time here, then. Starting now.'

She got out her phone and took a photo of the two of them, faces pressed together, the square behind them.

She uploaded it to Facebook: 'In Sorrento, with the best sister ever.'

That evening, Anna and Imogen were at Luigi's, sitting at an outside table overlooking the fountain. Children played by the water in the pale moonlight, and, as they laughed, Anna remembered what it was about Italian culture that had attracted her to living there in the first place. She couldn't allow the tension with Elisa to take all that positive feeling away.

'What do you think of the linguine?' Anna asked, watching her sister shovel laden forkfuls of the delicious fresh pasta into her mouth.

'Incredible,' Imogen enthused, her mouth still half full. 'G.o.d, it's nothing like the pasta you get at home, is it?'

Anna shook her head. 'Luigi's is some of the best around, fresh, locally sourced ingredients, and made to his grandparents' recipes. It's a shame you won't get to meet him tonight.'

'Where is he?'

'He's gone to visit his son's new baby. He's just become a granddad and he's over the moon about it.'

'That's nice,' Imogen said. A granddad. So feasibly the same age as Vivien would have been. Her mind ticked over the possibility that he could be the man who had written to their grandmother. His initial L. supported her suspicion. 'Is he as proud as Dad was?'

'Almost. But no one could be quite as proud as that,' Anna laughed.

'What's his surname?' Imogen asked. Her heart raced at the prospect that she might be getting closer to unravelling the mystery.

'I don't know, actually,' Anna said. 'I haven't had reason to ask.'

Imogen felt disappointed, but tried not to let it show. Anna switched the subject back to their parents.

'Are they all right, Mum and Dad, with what we're doing? I feel awful taking Bella so far away from them.'

'They're fine,' Imogen said. 'Obviously they miss her, they miss all of you but they know that you've made the decision that's right for you as a family. And also that it's something special, what Bella has here the chance to experience two different cultures.'

'Not boring old English, through and through, like us?' Anna said. 'No wonder you're always seeking adventure somewhere or other, like Dad was in the old days.'

Imogen fell silent for a moment. 'Sometimes I think it would be easier, if I could just accept things as they are. If I was more like Mum, happy with her lot, only really caring about her family, keeping her home nice, the occasional bit of decent gossip to share with the neighbours . . .'

'You don't really mean that, though, do you?' Anna asked, raising an eyebrow.

'Not completely,' Imogen said. 'But maybe just a little bit. Because this restlessness, it doesn't make commitment easy. How do you love someone, say that you'll be there for them always, when a part of you is always wanting to get away?'

Imogen looked for the answer in her sister's eyes, but all she saw was concern. Was this how Vivien had felt too, all those years ago?

Chapter 25.