Page 44 of The Island of Hopes and Dreams

Lola woke to Mirabel reading a message from Fabs, which said his mamma was fine and they’d all returned home in the early hours of the morning. While Mirabel shot out of bed to go and find him, Lola showered, found a spare toothbrush, borrowed toothpaste and deodorant and got dressed again in the clothes she’d been wearing the day before.

She picked up her phone and messaged Rhys.

Are you up?

He replied immediately.

Yes, just spoken to Fabs. Going to find coffee. Want to join me?

Lola thumbed a quick reply.

Be down in five.

Lola finished drying her hair and borrowed some of Mirabel’s delicious-smelling hair product to scrunch it into waves. Voices drifted up from downstairs, less panicked than when they’d arrived the night before, which boded well. She followed the sounds through the sprawling villa to where most of the family were milling around in the main living area that opened onto the outdoor terrace shaded by olive trees.

She spotted Rhys clasping a cappuccino cup and talking to Fabs’s youngest sister. When he caught sight of her, his smile made her insides go squirmy and immediately filled her with the memory of bare skin and sensual kisses.

‘Morning,’ he said as he reached her.

‘How soon do you think we can get out of here?’ Lola whispered, nodding towards the gathered family.

He leaned in close, wafting a zingy cologne her way. ‘It does very much feel like we’re in the middle of a domestic.’ His breath was a mix of coffee and mint. ‘Mirabel’s okay though?’

Lola nodded. ‘Just about. Fabs?’

‘Shattered but mightily relieved his mamma didn’t have a heart attack.’ His arm brushed against her shoulder. ‘How about you?’

‘Tired, relieved, needing coffee and eager to change my clothes. You?’

‘Ditto.’ The way he grinned at her made her heart flip, and she realised her eagerness to get back to the villa was less about getting away from the family drama and more about having time alone with Rhys. Not that there would be much chance of that with Polly, Deni’s husband Mark, and Jenny from the hen weekend and her husband arriving today.

Lola was about to say more when Fabs clamped his hands on their shoulders and steered them towards the terrace with its view across the pool to the jetty and the sea beyond. ‘Have breakfast with us before you head back.’

‘That answers your question,’ Rhys whispered once they’d sat down and Fabs had joined Mirabel on the other side of the table.

Lola didn’t know what breakfast with the family was usually like, but there was a subdued air this morning, although no raised voices or arguing.

A refreshing breakfast of fruit, yogurt and a honey-sweetened wholemeal bread was brought out by the chef, and Lola was grateful when a coffee was placed in front of her. Mirabel’s parents, Felicity and Michael, were sitting across from her, their tiredness apparent in the yawn Mirabel’s dad failed to hide.

Giada and Lorenzo were the last to join them, Giada looking pale but otherwise her usual pristine self. Lola wouldn’t have believed she’d been in hospital for most of the night if she hadn’t known.

Giada remained standing at the head of the table. ‘I feel foolish.’ She spread her hands wide. ‘To disturb your sleep and all for nothing.’

Next to her, Fabs splayed his hands on the table. ‘It wasn’t nothing, Mamma.’

‘I’m with Fabs on that,’ Felicity said, gently adjusting the spoon and fork on her napkin. ‘You had the symptoms of a heart attack. That should never be ignored.’ She glanced at her husband. ‘If we’d ignored Michael’s symptoms we’d never have known he’d had a mini heart attack.’

Mirabel’s head shot up from her plate. ‘What heart attack?’

‘Miniheart attack,’ her dad said pointedly. He flashed a warning look at his wife before turning back to Mirabel. ‘I had a little health blip at the beginning of the year. We didn’t want to worry you when you had so much going on with work, the wedding and planning the move.’

‘Something like that isexactlywhat you need to tell me.’ Although anger flared across Mirabel’s face, it was layered with concern. Fabs reached for her hand. ‘You start withholding things, then it’s only going to make me worry even more.’

‘I understand your parents not telling you,’ Giada said slowly, her eyes sliding along the table to Mirabel’s parents, who were sitting straight-backed, their hands clasped. ‘It is what we do as a mother, as a father, to protect our children, even if we do not always make the best choices. Or behave the way we should.’

Lola noticed quite a lot of shuffling in seats, particularly from Mirabel’s and Fabs’s closest family.

‘I did not have a heart attack, but bad – how you say in English? – acid…’

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