Page 51 of The Island of Hopes and Dreams

The whole afternoon was a wonderful blur, punctuated by moments that Lola knew she would remember forever: Mirabel saying ‘I do’; Fabs kissing Mirabel as his wife for the first time; Giada and Felicity’s tear-streaked faces; and the bride and groom running hand in hand along the aisle between the upstanding guests with huge grins on their faces.

After the ceremony, drinks were served in the garden bar, which was shaded by overhanging trees, while the photographs took place in various locations, meaning there was a continuous movement of guests as first the family, then the friends, were called upon to join Fabs and Mirabel.

Half an hour later, Lola found herself on the roof terrace bar, just her and Rhys on either side of their best friends, the softening light warming them all as they stood with their backs to the mountain, their arms around their friends’ waists as they smiled at the photographer.

Lola squeezed Mirabel tight as the emotion that had been weaving through her all day threatened to spill over. Not because she was sad, but because it was a joyous occasion, because her best friend was finally married, and because Rhys was in touching distance.

The photographer finished and Mirabel handed Lola her bouquet. ‘Do you mind holding it for a moment?’

Clutching the flowers, Lola watched from the other side of the roof terrace as the photographer asked Mirabel to stand next to the wall. The V-shaped back of her dress scooped low, while her chestnut hair was pinned up with loose tendrils framing her face. The photographer positioned Fabs so he was perched on the low white wall that overlooked the juniper and olive trees carpeting the valley. Fabs rested his hand on the small of Mirabel’s back and gazed adoringly up at her. Across the valley, the ash-grey mountain peaks were kissed by clouds, which were tinged rose and amber as the sun dipped towards the horizon.

This was what love looked like.

Lola sighed, turned and met Rhys’s eyes. She wondered what he was thinking; if, like her, he could only dream of finding a love so perfect, a life partner who slotted in as effortlessly as a missing puzzle piece.

His sad smile suggested that perhaps he was thinking the same thing.

Lola couldn’t bear to witness his sorrow; she wanted more than anything to make his smile reach his eyes. She was about to go over to him when Deni’s arm clamped across her shoulder.

‘Felicity’s on the lookout for you; apparently she has a thank you gift to give you before dinner.’

Deni steered her down the steps and back towards the rest of the guests. Lola’s chance to go over to Rhys was lost.

30

Over the last few years, Lola had been to countless weddings as both a guest and occasionally a bridesmaid, but she’d never been to one in a place quite like Il Giardino. The wedding reception was held on the largest terrace. The tables were dotted between olive trees and raised borders spilling over with herbs that released a fresh earthy scent into the warmth of the early evening. Each table was decorated with a centrepiece of dried grasses and seeds, the warm cream tones beautifully showcasing the darker greens of the surrounding trees and the mauve hues of the mountain backdrop.

Lola was on a table with Deni, Mark and a couple of Fabs’s Italian friends not far from where the bride and groom were sitting with their immediate family, while Rhys was sitting a little further away with Barnaby, Gareth, Sarah and Polly.

Valentino was seated to her left. Of course, the seating arrangements had been organised months before, but it did make her wonder if Mirabel had considered Valentino as a possible suitor. He was nice enough but their conversation was stilted, unsurprising considering the last time they’d spoken she’d turned him down.

Even with over a hundred guests, it felt intimate, with the tables spaced between the trees. The waiters began to bring out the courses: ravioli with wild fennel followed by spit-roasted pork served with an array of dishes. Lola’s mouth watered at the sight of pan-fried peppers and onions, crispy potatoes and ricotta-stuffed aubergine, along with the delicious aroma, a smokiness mixed with citrus and herbs.

As they began to eat, her attention kept drifting towards Rhys, who seemed to be listening intently to Barnaby. He was good at paying attention to people, but he was also open to talking about his feelings and worries. Mirabel often referred to Fabs as her best friend. Lola had never thought of any partners in that way. Perhaps that was where she was going wrong. How could she put her heart and soul into a romantic relationship if they weren’t the closest person in her life – friends as well as lovers? She’d never talked to Jarek as openly as she had with Rhys this week.

Rhys looked her way and she blushed. She raised her glass of wine and he did the same in a silent exchange. That curdling thought about Jarek and the unhealthy relationships she’d had in the past eased a little. Rhys was good for her: his friendship, his thoughtfulness, his easy-going demeanour and humour. He made her laugh and?—

‘What do you think, Lola?’

At the sound of her name, she switched her attention to Deni, who was doing a valiant job of keeping the conversation flowing around their table. Even self-assured Valentino, who was being standoffish, was making a decent effort to chat politely. Lola inwardly sighed but silently promised to stay present and help Deni out on the conversation front.

Once the honey and myrtle gelato had been consumed and Fabs and Mirabel had done the rounds of the tables to thank everyone, they announced that the bar on the adjacent terrace was open and invited everyone to join them. Live music from a string trio filled the dusk-tinged evening, a jazzy beat with electronic strings. The candles on the tables flickered and the woven lanterns hanging in the trees glowed as people began to drift away. Through the slender branches, Lola could make out Fabs and Mirabel dancing. Lola had never seen her look happier, dazzling in her ivory dress, her skin sun-kissed and shimmering, her hair and make-up natural, the focus on dark lashes and strawberry lips. Smiling, Lola touched the small round filigree necklace that Felicity had given her as a thank you for helping Mirabel over the last few months.

‘Would you like to dance?’ Valentino’s smooth, deep voice pulled her attention away from her friend. With a sinking feeling, she realised they were the only two left. Glancing back, she spotted Deni and Mark standing on the edge of the terrace with their arms wrapped around each other; Polly and Sarah had disappeared completely, Gareth was chatting up his Italian fling, while Rhys was with Barnaby and Freddie at the bar.

‘Not at the moment,’ she said politely.

‘But later?’

He was certainly persistent.

‘Maybe.’ She would dance at some point tonight, but with her friends and hopefully Rhysifhe asked. She cursed herself for daydreaming and winding up stuck with Valentino.That’s unfair, she thought as she turned back and met his gaze again, an odd mix of amusement and seduction on his face. Did he still believe he had a chance with her? Of course he did because he was so confident in his looks that he wasn’t used to being turned down.

‘Did you get my flowers, Lola?’

A voice behind her sent her breath whooshing from her body at its familiarity; a voice that once sent chills through her and still did, just for a very different reason. Trying to keep it together, she turned away from Valentino, her eyes snapping to Jarek as he slid onto the empty chair next to her. She knew his face so well, yet the person behind those cool dark eyes was a stranger, one who unsettled her to her very core.

He looked right past her to Valentino.

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