A Life Sublime (5 page)

“I know him almost too well. It is a difficult conversation,” he admitted. He didn’t think anyone read his sons as well as their respective women did. How had she even begun to figure the complications of his family’s dynamic in such a short space of time? Clever woman.

“Because you don’t want to paint her as the bad person? People say you shouldn’t speak ill of the dead. I say tell the truth. The dead will know what God will tell them. So start talking.”

The voice of wisdom. He had been missing the counsel of sensibility for some time. “Thank you.”

She sent him a smile and made her way to her room. He didn’t miss her yelling, “Nicholas Da Canaveze, ah, what’s wrong with you! Your bedroom is not this way!”

Poor Fiore, Gina thought as they cleaned the kitchen until it sparkled and not a speck of palm oil marred her father-in-law’s perfect counters. They had been working since seven in the morning but all the food was cooked. The fish, caught and cleaned an hour before, was marinating and ready for a simple grilling. And when Fiore had tasted the palm soup, her face had lit up around a thousand watts. Yammering away in Italian, they finished the Italian fruit tartlets and sugared the Ghanaian doughnuts before Gina treated herself to a long, warm shower. She’d have enough time to clean up before Tony, Nick’s best man, and his wife Lydia arrived. The family driver was sent to collect them from Naples airport.

The stream of warm water just confirmed how tired she really was. The whole night she’d tossed and turned. Bloody Belinda. She would definitely have to find a distraction for the older woman somehow or she’d never get any sleep.

Gina dressed, sprayed on sunscreen and knocked on Belinda’s bedroom door. “Are you up Auntie?”

“Yes, yes,” the older woman waved her away. “I’m just looking for something to wear.”

“All right, I’ll see you downstairs.”

She didn’t think twice about leaving Paul and Sofia’s bedroom door well alone, for fear of what would be burned into her brain.
Not enough mental bleach in the world.
As she padded down the stairs and into the main hallway, she heard Lydia Mills’ voice. Frowning, Gina opened the heavy oak door and wandered to the driveway. She saw Lydia storming toward her with Tony close behind.

“That’s it!” Lydia yelled at her husband, “You touch my arse once today and I swear you’ll regret it!”

“Lyds, I said sorry!”

What on earth was all that about?
Gina thought, tempted to edge back into the villa, bolt and lock the door. Lydia and Tony married seven months ago. The wedding had been huge, showy and spectacularly crazy. Gina still couldn’t work out if both sets of parents had been proud or ashamed or a combination of both at the antics of their children.

“This is exactly why I am never giving up my name!”

“You’ve just added mine and I won’t argue with you. But baby, Caristo-Mills doesn’t sound right.”

“Course it wouldn’t if I box your ears! If I wasn’t a religious woman, there’d be a pick axe in your brain!”

Fascinated by the drama, it was too late for Gina to stage an escape. Instead she found herself cradled against the best rack on the planet. Lydia was five eight of voluptuous Ghanaian-Irishness in her bare feet, in wedge heels and Gina at five foot four standing in flat sandals, was eye level was with boobs. “Gina! You look gorgeous! Don’t get married.”

“Why are you pretending you don’t love being my wife?” Tony’s voice was muffled by his wife’s magnificent breasts.

“Do I want to know what’s going on?” Gina mumbled into Lydia’s chest.

“Sorry,” Lydia allowed a little bit of distance. “Now you tell me if you think this is okay.”

“Lyds…” Tony started leaning over to kiss the top of Gina’s head only to have Lydia swing her out of the way of her huge husband.

“Shush! I warned him never to repeat my doing something nice for him. He put it in writing and signed it in front of Rocky.”

“Okay,” Gina said slowly.

“And he broke it. Which means he is NOT allowed to touch me. By law!”

“Lyds, it’s too good not to share.”

She waved a finger underneath his nose. “I am warning you.”

Gina frowned. “What did you do, T-baby?”

“His mam was trying to talk me through seafood spaghetti.”

“Oh my God,” Gina muttered in horror. She loved Lydia to pieces, but nothing short of a death wish would induce her to try Lydia’s cooking. Tony must only survive due to sheer size.

“G, it’s priceless,” Tony grinned, folding his hefty arms across his broad chest.

“Quiet! I wanted to try it out. So Jonathan and that one are no help whatsoever, and I messed it up. Really bad. Marciana needs to just give up on me, I can’t do it. I’m not a natural cook.”

Gina opened her mouth only for Tony to hold up a hand. “Wait, it gets better.”

Lydia growled at him and he pressed his lips together in mock obedience. “I sort of gave them both food poisoning.”

“Wow.”

“Hence, we’re turning up today and not two days ago to help out.”

“I said sorry! I nursed the both of you through it! And you know what he does? He compares it to the feckin’ risotto incident which he knows he’s not allowed to do. And because we’re sitting next to this old woman on the plane, she asks him why he’s not eating the food and he tells her that his wife keeps trying to kill him.”

“Tony,” Gina admonished, struggling not to laugh. “That’s not on, man.”

“Once is a mistake. Twice, I have to voice my suspicions.” He tried to curl an arm around Lydia’s shoulders, but neither did she allow him to do so nor did she release Gina. “I know she wants to keep me around though. Doesn’t her voice sound hoarse?”

Oh eww
, Gina untangled herself from Lydia. “You,” Lydia made a sweeping motion in Tony’s direction, “go find the groom and do something useful. Us girls have things to do.”

“I’ve forgiven you for trying to kill me with my second favourite thing in the world — food. You can forgive me for wanting to talk through my trauma. Abuse against men is a serious subject.”

“Feck right off or I really will try to kill you.”

“Don’t you want to shower first?” Tony offered, hazel eyes glowing with mischief.

“Stay away from me, Caristo!”

Tony blinked at Gina. “Excuse us, one moment, G. Apologies for the domestic.” He picked Lydia up in his arms and carried her back to the car, ignoring her shrieks of protest. Opening the back door, he placed her inside before following. A half-second later, the driver flew out of the car and hurried to Gina’s side, protesting in Italian, “I don’t want to know what they’re doing.”

“Me neither,” she replied, then clapped her hand over her eyes. “And, oh my God, the car’s rocking.” She turned her back on the scene and urged the driver inside the villa. “Let’s get some lemonade. Are you hungry?”

Half an hour and three custard filled croissants later, Lydia rolled into the kitchen, looking dishevelled from head to toe. Gina shook her head.

“Just going to have that shower now.”

“Speak to Rocky when he gets here. Reassess the terms of that agreement,” Gina suggested. Lydia’s eyes widened. “Don’t you want to sit down for a moment?”

Lydia frowned at her, placing her hands on her bottom. “No. Can’t. See you in ten.”

Tony popped his head around the archway, one suitcase in hand. “I’m forgiven! Jubilation G!”

Gina raised the flat of her palms to the ceiling. The driver got to his feet and thanked her for the food. She removed her phone and typed out a text.
Oi, you need to sort out this celibacy thing. Obviously I can’t do a thing wrong, so it’s up to you. Everyone is getting boom tings except us.

Her phone pinged back at her.
Trust me. I’ll sort it. Be ready.

Not now numpty! I’ve got to get all buffed and pretty.

My darling Georgina, you are already buffed and extremely pretty. Will sort it out. Love you.

Love you more.

Satisfied, she settled with an orange juice when Sofia wandered into the kitchen, looking lean and elegant in a bright green maxi dress. “Coffee please, darling, I ache all over.”

Gina passed over the coffee press. Sofia looked at it. “What do I do with this?”

“You’re kidding right?”

Sofia grinned. “Just. It’s the only thing I can do.”

“You and Lydia will be staying out of my kitchen from now on,” Gina warned. “Have a muffin. Made them this morning while I wasn’t bouncing on top of my future husband.”

“You should start that again, it is so good for the thighs. Better than Pilates,” Sofia assured her, picking the flaked almonds from the top of a croissant and popping them into her mouth. Lydia came sweeping into the kitchen. She and Sofia hugged delightedly.

“Is that coffee? Amazing.”

“The driver’s gone,” Gina said calmly.

“Not far I hope. I’m not walking to the marina.” Sofia frowned. 

“Probably giving it a good clean because of certain people,” Gina looked pointedly at Lydia. 

“It’s my husband, he has no shame,” Lydia retorted, her Italian perfect, thanks to said husband and his parents.

“And you do?”

“What did I miss?” Sofia asked, eyes eager for gossip.

“Oh, that one was trying to tip over their car making up for her domestic with her husband.”

Lydia gave an embarrassed grin. “Never mind. Don’t we have somewhere to be?”

“Yes,” Sofia agreed, taking the croissant from Gina’s mouth and putting it down. Handing her a bag, Sofia hustled her into the hallway.

“How are you anyway, Gina?” Lydia asked. “You look far too calm for a woman getting married in two days.”

“Oh my God, I am so tired,” Gina muttered, slipping huge dark sunglasses on her face.

“You were in bed so early! It’s just going nine now,” Sofia protested.

“I don’t sleep well when Nick’s not there,” she grumbled as Lydia gave her a brief hug. “Belinda is stressing me out and I didn’t want to stress out. I wanted relaxed.”

“Or is this all lack of sex?” Lydia asked with a smile.

“It is not. Even when he’s prowling around at night, I can sleep because of, well, his smell.”

Lydia sent her a grin. “Really?”

“Look at her wrists,” Gina pointed to Sofia’s arms. “She got good and banged all last night and I can’t get any? How is that fair?”

“Holy fucking matrimony,” Sofia answered smugly. “It was my turn with the cuffs, not that I had a choice about it.”

Lydia and Gina both shuddered with the volunteer of details. “No whining,” Lydia demanded, fluffing her quiff. “We’re going to have a few hours of pampering and then a few hours of being intensely African.”

Belinda was the last to turn up. “We’re not cooking I see.”

“Did it all this morning,” Gina groaned. “I had to keep myself occupied somehow. It’ll just be a simple matter of reheating. The last thing will be the sticky rice and that’s it.”

“Why can’t we…”

“Auntie, it’s nice to be pampered.”

“Darling, we all need to have various people falling at our feet. Frankly my sweet, you need the work most of all. When was the last time you had a manicure Auntie?” Sofia asked with her usual bluntness.

Gina took Lydia’s hand and turned toward the limousine. “Where are you going?” Lydia asked.

“Saving us both.”

“But I want to see this!”

“People will ask me in fifty years where I was when Sofia died. I’m going to say waiting in the car.”

“Sofia,” Belinda said firmly, “don’t ever speak to me like I am your friend. I am your elder. Respect may be a difficult thing for you to understand, but unless you want, as God is my witness, to lose your life, you will take care in the way you address me. You understand?”

Sofia pressed her lips together, her eyes wide. “Yes Auntie.”

“Good. Let’s go.”

The journey to the spa on the island of Capri was brutally awkward. Gina had never seen Sofia as contrite but it was a fact of having a Ghanaian elder. Take your punishment in silence or risk making it a lot worse. Rather than dwell on Sofia’s discomfort, Gina sat on the fly bridge of the yacht and enjoyed the heat of the sun as the yacht sped them to the port.

They finally arrived at the hotel spa, a glorious five star temple in Ana Capri which immediately seeped a soothing cool into them all.
Totally worth the random journey!
Greeted by what seemed like an army of therapists, Gina was addressed in Italian. “Welcome Miss Robinson. Now what is the main focus of today?”