The Summer Villa

Chapter 4

Natasha had her own Midtown apartment in the heart of everything. She was lucky, she got to live on her own but her parents still paid for it, so she had all of the freedom without the worry of bills and rent.

Kim often envied Natasha’s situation, and she told her that. They’d been friends since middle school and had few secrets between them, but the distance in their lives was widening the older they got.

Tash couldn’t understand what Kim went through, no matter how much she tried. She always had ideas to save her and simple solutions to whatever problem Kim faced, but it was easy to find an out when your feelings weren’t in the mix, and your heart wasn’t being torn by the choices you faced.

It was easy to rip a bandage off when you didn’t have to feel the pain of the removal or bleed once it was done.

Now, the pair settled onto the couch as Natasha turned on her Dell and typed in her password. Kim nipped to the bathroom, pulled her blonde curls back in a scrunchie she had in her bag, and went to splash her face with water.

She wasn’t that drunk; the act back at the bar was mostly borne out of despair, and more than that, Natasha’s suggestion had sobered her up and got her thinking.

‘So what are we doing?’ she asked, coming back into the living room.

‘We,’ her friend answered as she pulled up a search engine, ‘are going to find you the perfect escape, Kim Weston. So what are you feeling? Someplace down south maybe? I hear Miami is fun.’

‘Too humid in summer,’ Kim answered.

‘California?’

‘We go there all the time.’

‘Hawaii then?’ Natasha suggested as she turned to her. ‘You could surf or climb a volcano.’

Kim didn’t share her enthusiasm. ‘How about someplace I haven’t been? Somewhere new?’

‘OK, so why don’t we let Google decide?’ Natasha suggested with a laugh.

Kim frowned.

‘Trust me,’ her friend assured, as the ‘I Feel Lucky’ prompt appeared and Tash duly pressed ‘enter’. ‘There. What do you think?’

‘Italy?’

‘Yes. On the other side of the world, a whole ocean away from your folks’ reach,’ she added with a satisfied smile. She pushed the laptop in Kim’s direction and a flood of stunningly picturesque images filled her vision.

She knew Italy was beautiful. Her family had visited Venice once when she was six or seven and Kim had always wanted to go back. She remembered Gloria being annoyed with her because all she wanted to do was chase around after the pigeons in St Mark’s Square.

She flicked through the on-screen images of picture-postcard scenery: blue skies, historical sights, twinkling water and impossibly pretty villages, each one more appealing than the last.

The idea of running away to such a place was unbelievably alluring. Not to mention romantic.

‘Looks incredible …’ she muttered, as she continued her search.

‘Good place to hide away for a while and maybe get your bearings?’

‘Yes, but there’s no way I can go.’

‘Why not?’ Natasha challenged. ‘No one has to know and I certainly won’t tell. What’s stopping you?’

‘How am I going to pay for it? If I use the Amex, Mom and Dad will know and they’d be on the next flight to drag me back before I even arrive,’ Kim pointed out.

Or more likely, have someone else do it. Her driver, probably.

‘Not if you pay with mine.’ Natasha grabbed her purse and pulled out the little magic black rectangle.

Kim took the credit card from her friend and turned it over in her hands. She bit her lip. Could this tiny piece of plastic be the key to her escape? She grinned.

‘How much can I spend?’

‘Whatever you need,’ Natasha answered airily, as a satisfied grin spread across her face. ‘No one’s going to check. I can cover your flight, hotel – everything. You’ll need some cash for spending, though, or else your parents will be able to track you.’

Clearly Natasha had been watching too much true crime on TV again, but Kim was thankful. If she did go ahead with this then she couldn’t take the chance that her parents would find out.

‘OK, but just coach flights, and nowhere expensive, OK? And I’ll pay you back.’ She knew the money wouldn’t matter to her friend but it did to Kim.

If this was going to be about finding her own way, then she needed to get her priorities straight from the get-go.

‘Great! So let’s find you someplace to stay,’ Natasha practically sang as she pulled the laptop closer. ‘Italy’s a big country. Where would you like to go?’

‘I don’t know. Does it matter? Isn’t the point of an escape to just go and see what happens?’ Kim pointed out.

‘Pin the tail on the donkey then,’ Natasha laughed.

‘What?’

‘On the map. Just close your eyes and pick a spot,’ she insisted.

Kim looked at her sceptically. ‘Seriously?’

‘Just do it.’

Kim did as she was bid and they both stared at the part of Italy she’d picked, a spot at the shin area of the boot-shaped map.

The Amalfi Coast looked and sounded amazing.

And the further along the plan progressed, the more hopeful Kim felt. A chance to take some time out, if only for a little while, was something she hadn’t even realised she needed.

Either one last summer hurrah before life as she knew it ended, or the opportunity to find out what the alternatives could be. And perhaps, most importantly, a chance to outmanoeuvre her parents, have some fun and take charge of her life in the most spectacular way.

‘All we need now is your flight. You’re supposed to leave for England next month, right?’

‘Yes,’ Kim confirmed.

‘So find out the date and we book your flight to Italy for the same day, so your parents won’t be suspicious.’

Kim had to laugh. ‘You really think of everything, don’t you? Espionage would suit you.’

‘Don’t think I haven’t considered it,’ her friend mused. She continued in her best James Bond voice. ‘Slater. Natasha Slater. Agent Nine-Inch Heels.’

‘Thanks, Tash,’ Kim said as her emotions took over. ‘For this … for everything.’

‘Of course.’ Her friend pulled her in for a hug. ‘You’re my best friend and I want the best for you. Whatever that may be.’ She turned back to her computer. ‘Now, let’s find a place for you to stay,’ she continued. ‘Somewhere fitting for Kim Weston’s Italian Great Escape.’

Chapter 5

Now

‘So are you going to share what’s on your mind?’ Antonio asked as his Maserati made its way along the coast and deftly around the hairpin bends that used to so terrify Kim, but were as familiar to her now as Fifth Avenue used to be.

She turned to look at him, brushing back strands of her hair as it blew in the breeze.

In spite of his advancing years, he was still very handsome. There was something about him that reminded her a lot of her husband.

Both men had angular jaws and arresting eyes, but while Antonio’s were brown, Gabriel’s were piercing blue. Both also had Roman-shaped noses, reflecting their Italian roots. Gabe was American but his family was originally from Sicily, and the semblance of his ancestry still shone through.

Now, she visualised her husband’s handsome face before her – his gentle eyes and brilliant smile. She hadn’t seen that smile in weeks and she missed it.

‘Nothing,’ she lied automatically, before adding, ‘nothing important.’

‘No trouble in paradise, I hope?’

‘No trouble,’ she answered a little too quickly. ‘It’s just … Lily is young and life has been … challenging lately.’

‘And of course that would have nothing at all to do with your frequent absences and workload …’

Kim loved Antonio’s honesty, but sometimes she hated his candour.

‘I need to work hard, you know that,’ she answered. ‘Lots of people relying on me – there are publicity engagements, photoshoots, interviews, you know the drill. Especially over the last eighteen months,’ Kim continued, referring to Villa Dolce Vita. ‘This new venture is the culmination of everything we’ve worked for, Antonio, the showcase for the brand. Obviously it’s taken a huge amount of my time and effort. If we want Villa Dolce Vita to be all it can be, then I need to put in the necessary care and attention.’

‘But what about your family? Doesn’t it also deserve your care and attention?’

His words were a jolt to her system and she didn’t know how to answer. Kim supposed she’d never thought of it in those terms. She scoffed internally. The Sweet Life was all about mindfulness and finding balance in all things, yet she knew that, ironically, her own life once again was heavily off-kilter.

‘Bella? Where did you go?’

Kim snapped back to reality as they pulled up close to the trattoria. ‘Sorry, what?’

Antonio laughed. ‘I said that I think there is a lot more going on than what you are telling me. Let’s talk about it properly over lunch.’

But where to even begin? Kim wasn’t sure she had the words to express the turmoil in her brain as she took a seat across from her mentor and friend inside the charming cliffside restaurant.

How could she confide in Antonio everything that was going on in her life just now, let alone the sense of dread she felt deep down?

To say nothing of the ugly truth that Kim was turning out to be a terrible mother. Just like her own.

Gloria had never cared about Kim. Never considered her daughter or what she wanted. The only thing her mother ever desired was her own ends. It didn’t matter how they came, as long as she got them.

Kim realised a long time ago that she had been just another one of her mother’s devices. Her father had wanted a child to carry on the Weston legacy. They’d hoped for a son but Kim was it, and her mother had lived with that as best she could. She made sure she had nannies and the housekeeper to tend to Kim’s every scrape and need, while she jetsetted across the world. Success was all she cared about.

Kim never experienced what it was like to have a mother’s love. And now it seemed she lacked the skills and knowledge to give it to her own flesh and blood. While she, too, relentlessly pursued success.

‘Bella?’ Antonio pressed when the waiter had poured the wine.

‘It’s just … most of the time I don’t know what I’m doing,’ she admitted to Antonio, as tears filled her eyes. ‘With Lily, I mean.’

His comforting gaze lingered on her momentarily before he focused on the glittering water. ‘Emilia and I were married for about five years when I began to question it – the marriage, I mean.’

The confession came as a huge surprise. Kim could never have imagined that Antonio, the man whose love for his wife she thought unmatched, could ever have thought he’d made a mistake.

She didn’t for one second regret marrying Gabriel; she adored him and almost from the moment they met knew he was her soulmate. But she was just as certain she was never cut out to be a mother, and when Lily arrived, her worst fears were realised.

Every day of her daughter’s three-year-old life, she’d felt like a failure at it. And the worse she felt, the more she threw herself into her work, leaving her husband to care for their daughter pretty much alone while she built The Sweet Life into an international brand.

He never complained, never even seemed to notice that Kim was spending less and less time at home as the business grew. He’d been there from the start, so knew that this was her passion, and the reason she was pushing so hard to make this new venture a success.

But neither her husband or Antonio knew that The Sweet Life had actually been built on lie.

And Kim was terrified of being uncovered as a fraud.

Chapter 6

Now

Colette Hargreaves yawned as she rolled over in bed.

The blinds were open and it was gone 7 a.m. She turned over, her copper hair falling across her shoulders as she looked around the bedroom.

Outwardly, everything was in its place, but she sensed something was missing.

‘Ed?’

Silence answered her call and Colette swung her feet from beneath the sheets and onto the lush new carpeting they’d had laid during the most recent renovation of their London townhouse. Her husband was fond of hardwood, whereas she preferred carpet, so they’d made a compromise. Carpet in the bedroom and hardwood everywhere else.

She pulled a robe over her silk nightgown and tied a loose knot at her waist as she slipped her feet into her slippers and headed for the door.

Their house was such a far cry from the tiny cottage she’d lived in growing up. Colette had left Brighton behind five years ago when she’d been offered a translator position at the Home Office.

A little while before that, Ed had asked her to marry him, and suddenly Colette was a Londoner with a comfortable house near Hyde Park.

Three bedrooms, living/dining area, a kitchen and outdoor terrace, and yet the house felt so empty. She walked into the living room and turned on the television before going into the kitchen to start breakfast.

She had just plated some eggs and bacon when Ed walked in, dripping with sweat, his sandy hair now dark against his forehead.

‘Good morning, darling,’ he greeted, walking over and kissing her cheek. He pulled open the fridge and grabbed a bottle of his post-run shake.

Her husband was very concerned with his health, jogged seven days a week, and drank pre- and post-workout elixirs comprised of things Colette didn’t want to think too much about.

‘How was your run?’ she asked as she set his plate on the white granite worktop. Her sister Noelle often joked that the brightest thing in the entire house was Colette’s hair.

Ed’s mother Laura had ‘helped’ with the decorating (an understatement) and had declared bright colours gaudy and unsophisticated.

Colette hadn’t wanted to argue. She was in a different world here, where the rules were set but often not shared, and one small misstep could have negative social or professional consequences.

The older woman also cautioned that people would look to topple Colette because of Ed’s profile within the London business world and that there would be several who would love nothing more than to see their relationship ruined.

Laura’s intentions weren’t malicious, Colette knew, but a heartfelt warning. Ed’s mother was much like her, in a way. She’d come from a simpler life and had been propelled into this world by her own marriage. It had ended badly for many of the same reasons she now cautioned Colette about.

She’d left Ed’s dad a few years later and made a place for herself on her own terms. She wanted Colette to do the same, without the broken marriage.

‘It was good. I ran into Carter and Freddy in the park,’ Ed informed her as he continued to drink the contents of his bottle. ‘They said they had some news about that IPO I’ve been tracking.’

When they first met, her husband was a lowly portfolio manager’s assistant for a small investment firm in London. Now, he was the personal fund manager for seven- and eight-figure families, who paid him more than handsomely to manage their investments.

He’d gone from a tiny fish in a small pond to a great white in a lake of other investment managers just like him.

‘And speaking of news – according to Mother there’s another grandchild on the way.’ Ed’s tone was casual but Colette noticed he wouldn’t meet her gaze.

She was glad of it, because she knew there was no way she would have been able to hide her reaction. ‘Oh. Sarah’s pregnant again?’ She wasn’t entirely sure how she’d even got the words out, the lump of disappointment in her throat was so huge. Or was it envy?

Colette wasn’t sure how to describe the visceral, almost primal disappointment you experienced when someone else managed to achieve the very thing you wanted.

Five years of marriage and countless attempts, and still she and Ed had yet to conceive. There had been occasions when she thought she might be pregnant, but each time proved to be dodgy hormones or a faulty pregnancy test.

Ed was great about it, always encouraging, but she knew he was as disappointed as she was.

His brothers already had five (now soon to be six) offspring between them, and had been married years after them. Her own sister, Noelle, also had family; she lived in Germany with her husband and twin girls.

Sometimes it felt like Colette and Ed were the only ones with all these rooms and nothing to fill them.

‘Could you put that in the microwave for me?’ Ed said now, referring to breakfast. ‘Just the eggs, actually. I’m going to take a shower before I eat.’ He duly washed his bottle and set it out to drain, before coming over and kissing her on the cheek. It was his way of letting her know that he understood her disappointment, knowing she wouldn’t want to make a big deal out of it.

Colette was grateful for it, but she sometimes wished they would talk more about the void in their lives, instead of pretending it didn’t exist, the way Ed tended to sometimes.

‘Of course,’ she answered. She’d just taken a seat at the kitchen island, hoping for a cosy breakfast together, but it seemed it was going to be another morning of eating on her own.

‘Thanks.’ Ed kissed her forehead and jogged back out to the hallway. ‘It smells amazing.’

‘No problem,’ she said to his back, then turned to her own food and sighed.

He was so busy these days. Up early and to bed late so many nights. His clients could be demanding, and a call from someone meant he – or sometimes both of them, depending on the effort required – could be called away to the country for a weekend retreat, or invited to a party of rich elites.

It was something that both amazed Colette and made her uncomfortable. She’d adjusted, though: five years of marriage had done that, but in that other world the glaring differences between her and Ed’s peers was more than evident.

He never complained or made her feel unworthy in any way. In fact, it was just the opposite. He was supremely proud of her and loved to talk about her accomplishments.

The translator position, which had started her career, had moved Colette along the path to her present job as Project Manager in the Department of International Development. It was a fantastic opportunity, which sometimes even allowed her to work for the United Nations. She was so lucky to be living her dream, at least in part.

Colette had the wonderful home, fantastic husband and an amazing job making a difference in the world, just as she’d always wanted.

There was just one thing missing.

An hour later, she was dressed in a stylish pencil skirt and heels. A string of pearls draped from her neck and a matching pair of earrings dangled from her ears.

Ed was on the couch going through the newspaper when she emerged downstairs again. This was often the way. Two ships passing in the night.

‘Where are you off to?’ he asked as he looked up.

‘I told you on Wednesday that I was going shopping with your mum, then we’re going to have lunch in Mayfair,’ she stated.

‘You did, but I thought you said Saturday?’

‘Ed, it is Saturday,’ she replied.

He looked perplexed. ‘It can’t be.’ He closed the paper quickly, checking the date on front, then promptly jumped to his feet. ‘Damn! I was supposed to meet the boys at the tennis club for brunch. I can’t believe it.’

Colette watched as he picked up his phone and swiped quickly through his contact list.

She sighed. Her husband was wonderful, just too busy sometimes. If he wasn’t dashing around the city for business, he was travelling around the world on business.

Sometimes his clients demanded he personally check out the companies in which they were interested in investing. It came with the trappings of the life they had. But still she wished that the pace of that life could just slow down a little now and again.

Leaving Ed to call his friends, she made her way out to the hallway, then stopped as the post on the bureau got her attention. Ed must have picked it up earlier when coming in from his run.

She stood, absently flipping through the envelopes to see if there was anything important. A crisp white envelope addressed to Colette and Ed Hargreaves caught her eye.

It wasn’t so much the letter, but the fact that it wasn’t address to ‘Mr and Mrs Ed’ – her name was actually included this time. Turning the envelope over, she pried the flap open and unfolded a piece of paper emblazoned with a familiar logo.

Enjoy La Dolce Vita!

Kim Weston and The Sweet Life family cordially invite you to join us for the launch celebration of Villa Dolce Vita Wellness and Cultural Retreat on the glorious Amalfi Coast.

A smile spread wide across Colette’s face as she skimmed over the invite, pushing her cheeks almost up as far as the lower rim of her reading glasses.

The timing of this almost made up for the disappointment of earlier. As if her old friend had somehow known she needed a boost.

Still smiling, she glanced back at the envelope and saw that there was something else inside. Two aeroplane tickets to Naples and a weekend reservation at a five-star Sorrento hotel, as well as a handwritten note.

Can’t wait for you guys to see what I’ve done with the place!

Perfect excuse for a long overdue reunion?

K xx

Her heart well and truly lifted, Colette walked back into the living room and held the invite out for her husband to read.

It had been a few years since Kim had announced her intentions to buy and restore the old villa, and the process had been less than easy.

From their (admittedly far too infrequent) phone catch-ups, she knew Kim had encountered obstacle after obstacle, from the Italian authorities to some of the locals, almost from the moment she let her grand plans be known.

However, as always, she hadn’t wavered in her intentions, and now the invite was proof of her success.

‘Isn’t it wonderful? She really did it. I can’t wait to see how it looks now,’ Colette prattled excitedly, as she waited for her husband’s reaction. ‘And Kim, too, of course. And I wonder if Annie will come? Oh, I hope so. I haven’t seen her in so long.’

Colette and Kim had always made a conscious effort to stay in touch after their time in Italy, Annie less so. But the trio’s was the kind of friendship that bucked time and place, and Colette knew that once they were together again, the preceding years would simply melt away and it would be as if they were never apart.

‘Seriously?’ Ed replied flatly. He looked up at her. ‘This is only a month away. I know you were looking forward to going back to Italy again, and it’s great Kim seems to have finally got it all up and running, but do we really have time for this just now? You have that new project coming up, for starters.’

Colette looked at him, puzzled. ‘We’d make time, of course,’ she answered. ‘I don’t understand … We knew for ages that Kim’s launch would likely be happening this summer. Why would I want to miss a trip like this?’

‘It’s just with everything we have going on, isn’t the timing a bit off for a last-minute jaunt to Italy? And it’s not as though you two are that close anymore.’

‘What? Of course the timing’s not off,’ she replied, confused by his reaction. She’d thought Ed would be as excited as she was to return to the Amalfi Coast, where, in truth, their own love story began. And perhaps while there, the location might just work its magic again? And yes, while their lives had diverged considerably since their time in Italy, Colette considered Kim and Annie friends for life.