Page 19 of The Island of Hopes and Dreams

‘Oh. My. God. Pinch me, someone! This is the most incredible holiday ever!’ Sarah announced after breakfast the next morning. ‘To not have needed to organise anything beyond flights and what to pack, I bloody love it! Even though I hate being away from my kids, but now they’re older, boy oh boy am I grateful for this.’

Deni linked arms with Sarah as they strolled back towards their rooms to pack an overnight bag. ‘And your hubby’s getting to spend time with them while you get some much needed R&R. It’s a win-win in my book.’

Lola choked back a laugh. ‘Although you definitely have the biggest win.’

‘Oh, I think so too.’ Sarah pulled Lola close so the three of them were walking side by side. ‘That’s why I’m gutted for Polly. Did you see her message in our chat? Sickness bugs are the worst and to have both kids come down with something at the same time. Ugh.’

‘She must be crossing everything that she doesn’t catch it,’ Deni said.

Lola tightened her hold on Sarah. ‘We’ll just have to make it extra special when she does get here. Positive thinking, everyone!’

‘But right now we get to have a night in Bosa and explore more of the island.’ Deni smirked. ‘A night away, Lola.’

Lola refrained from rolling her eyes at the not-so-subtle meaning behind Deni’s words. ‘Every night is a night away.’

Deni batted her free hand in Lola’s direction. ‘You know what I mean.’

Of course she understood what she meant; that had been her intention. She’d played along, casually flirting with Rhys at the end of last night and then again over breakfast. She’d found herself wanting to talk to him and steal moments together, the pretence surprisingly effortless.

* * *

They would need days, weeks even, to fully explore Sardinia. Lola hadn’t appreciated the size of the island until they were being driven across it along roads that weren’t for the fainthearted, to Bosa, a picturesque town of multicoloured houses on the west coast. Not that she could wholeheartedly enjoy the experience when she was feeling distinctly nauseous, having forgotten to take a travel sickness tablet, so she spent much of the two-hour journey with her head resting on Deni’s shoulder.

Not only was Hotel Melis owned by close friends of Fabs’s family, but it had a different vibe to the laid-back luxury of Villa Capparis. Painted a dirty salmon colour, the townhouse hotel was decorated with wrought-iron balconies that had just enough space for a small table and chairs. Bosa was still touristy, but away from the Costa Smeralda, it felt different being in the heart of a bustling town with cobbled streets and the sunshine slanting between colourful buildings, while the river Temo glistened as it ribboned its way to the sea.

The swish hotel lobby, with its chequered black and white marbled floor and luxurious seating area, was teeming with people, mostly Mirabel and Fabs’s families who’d arrived earlier. As Lola strode towards Mirabel with Sarah and Deni, it was immediately apparent that something was going on. Despite the amount of people crammed into the lobby, the hushed muttering took a back seat to the sharp words cracking between Mirabel’s mum, Felicity, and Giada.

Deni stopped short of the check-in desk and Lola paused too, tugging on Sarah’s sleeve to ensure she didn’t continue walking into a situation that had obviously been brewing for a while.

‘It is too much,’ Felicity hissed at Giada. Her cheeks were flushed and she looked as angry as Lola had ever seen her. ‘I suggested weeks ago that Michael and I host a dinner at yours andpayfor it and you said no, you’d take care of everything, and yet here we are being hosted byfriends of yours.’

‘Which we pay for!’ Giada’s nostrils flared.

‘It’s not just about the money!’ Felicity shot back. ‘It’s about us being involved in the decisions and the shape of our daughter’s wedding!’

‘To our son!’

‘Oh boy,’ Deni whispered, ‘this is all kicking off.’

Lola didn’t know what to do to ease the tension, feeling as helpless as Mirabel looked. Dismay showed on Mirabel’s dad’s face as he shifted from foot to foot. Fabs’s dad Lorenzo seemed to be edging backwards, while Fabs’s sisters were trying to wrangle their children away from the commotion. Fabs and his two brothers-in-law were nowhere to be seen.

‘I just wanted something to be from us,’ Felicity pressed on. ‘To do something forourdaughter and son-in-law-to-be. Something special and memorable when all they’ll remember is what you did for them.’

‘Mum, that’s not true?—’

‘After everything we do, you are ungrateful because of it!’ Giada cut Mirabel off, while a sharp flash of her kohled eyes was aimed at Felicity.

Mirabel stared open-mouthed as they circled each other like vultures in the middle of the hotel lobby. Everyone else looked on, transfixed by the argument playing out so publicly.

Giada was impeccably dressed in a form-fitting cream and navy dress with tasteful gold jewellery, effortlessly holding her nerve against a flushed and flustered Felicity in a casual blouse and chinos combo.

Mirabel, looking slight and delicate, stepped between the warring matriarchs.

‘Mum,’ she said tightly. ‘Let’s take this somewhere else.’

‘I’m finished.’ Felicity shrugged off her daughter’s hand. ‘I just wanted to say my piece, considering I haven’t had a say in anything else.’

‘Mum…’ Mirabel looked on the verge of tears as she stalked after her, only pausing to shake her head at Giada, who clucked her tongue in what sounded very much like a dismissal.

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