Page 9 of The Island of Hopes and Dreams

‘And apart from being here for your wedding, I need a holiday.’ Lola repeated the sentiment she’d shared with Deni in the taxi earlier.

‘Those jangling nerves are first-day ones,’ Mirabel said. ‘I’m sure it’s the same for everyone, because I feel that way too. We’ll meet each other properly this evening and all will be good, I promise.’

5

Rhys reasoned that having Freddie and Zoe parade themselves and their love for each other in his face for the next ten days would result in one of two things: either they’d end up having another fight or he’d loathe the sight of them so much that any reminder of what he once had with Zoe would be quashed. Freddie and Zoe were welcome to each other, but it was hard to ignore how a friend could have behaved that way. While he was desperate to put the whole mortifying situation behind him, he still wanted to punch Freddie again – but perhaps less publicly. Actually, no good would come of violence, least of all for him. His hand had throbbed for days after the stag do, the discomfort equal to the regret he’d felt.

What irked him most was their timing. They could have told him months ago, they could have warned him – his other friends could have too. They could have been honest about their sordid history and that Zoe had cheated on him, but then what would have happened? Would he not have gone on the stag do? Or come to Sardinia? Fabs was his best mate; there was no way he’d have let him down, so what difference would it really have made if he had been pre-warned?

Those troubling thoughts had kept him company throughout the journey and on their arrival in Sardinia. It had been a whirlwind of new people at the villa and he was grateful to have a room of his own to escape to. The names and faces of Mirabel’s friends were still a muddle, but they’d each made an impression, particularly Mirabel’s best friend Lola, who was strikingly beautiful – she’d definitely caught Gareth’s eye; he’d made a play for her the moment everyone had started mingling. The friend she’d arrived with was older, then there was the other friend – Sarah, he thought she was called – who was loud, funny and happy to steal all the attention.

After refreshments on the terrace, they were transferred across the bay in the villa’s speedboat to Fabs’s family’s sprawling home, Villa Sereno, which lived up to its name with an idyllic setting overlooking the Tyrrhenian Sea.

Having spent two summers in Sardinia with Fabs while they’d been at university, learning a smattering of Italian and getting to know Fabs’s family and friends, Rhys was grateful for that connection now. Those relationships enabled him to avoid his own friends as he caught up with Fabs’s eldest sister Lia and her husband. He couldn’t help but notice that Mirabel’s friend Lola, with her blonde hair and eye-catching dress, had attracted not just Gareth’s attention, but Valentino’s too. He was one of Fabs’s childhood friends and had moved away from Sardinia to pursue a modelling career in Rome.

After Lia was drawn into a conversation with someone else, Rhys’s panic about being on his own was short-lived when Fabs slid an arm across his shoulders and popped a fresh bottle of beer in his hand. ‘Sorry I didn’t get a chance to spend much time with you earlier.’ He swept his hand towards the friends and family mingling on the terrace. ‘How you holding up?’

Rhys tried not to roll his eyes. ‘Don’t worry; I’m not going to do anything stupid.’

‘That’s not what I meant. And what happened on my stag do was because you’d had no warning. It was a shock.’ He led him away from the terrace towards the lawn, where the swimming pool glowed aquamarine in the fading light. ‘I keep thinking I should have told them not to come?—’

‘They’re your friends. They have as much right to be here as I do. It’s my shit to deal with, Fabs.’

‘I’m just sorry they upset you the way they have.’

‘Hey,youdon’t need to apologise.’ He swigged his beer and stared across the pool to the shadowed bushes edging the garden and the dark sea beyond. ‘They sure as hell haven’t.’

Fabs pursed his lips and gave a chuffed agreement. He folded his arms across his chest. He was only a little taller than Rhys, yet he filled the space more – not because of his defined muscles, but his presence. He was someone everyone noticed when he walked into a room.

‘You can always stay here with us, if it’ll help?’ Fabs finally said.

Rhys swigged his beer. ‘Running away isn’t the answer.’

‘I know, but if it gets too much, it’s an option.’

Rhys nodded a thank you and fought back a wave of upset, not just at his friend’s thoughtfulness, but at being singled out as the one who needed looking out for. He appreciated Fabs’s kindness, but hated how he was being seen as the vulnerable friend.

‘By the way, Mamma’s been looking for you,’ Fabs said with a smile. ‘She was busy organising the caterers when you arrived.’

They strolled back across the lawn. Fabs’s parents, Giada and Lorenzo, were epic hosts and had an effortless way of entertaining their guests. Rhys knew from experience that they’d be in their element with a house full of people.

Giada caught sight of them and clipped across the paving in her heels. She’d barely changed in the fifteen years since Rhys had first met her, and on the cusp of her seventies, she was still beautiful. She looked chic in an elegant belted black dress with gold accessories and had the same sleek bobbed hairstyle, her silver hair framing olive skin and chocolate eyes.

‘Rhys, I have missed you!’ Giada took hold of his face and lightly kissed him on each cheek. ‘Why have you not come to visit us? Fabrizio say he invite you. You must come!’

‘I’m here now.’ He smiled warmly but that didn’t stop the rush of regret for not coming back sooner when Fabs had asked him on more than one occasion.

Giada was as warm and sociable as his mum was reserved and quiet. Spending time with Fabs’s family had taken some getting used to because their lifestyle was so different to how he’d grown up, and it wasn’t just because they had money, but because they thrived on company and entertaining. In Rhys’s own family, it had only been the arrival of grandchildren that had injected a much-needed dose of fun into his parents’ lives and made them more sociable and outgoing. His two older brothers lived the sort of busy, warm and fulfilling lives with their partners that Rhys craved.

Giada leaned in conspiratorially. ‘Ah, but I want you to myself for a bit. Feed you up. Look after you.’ She looked at him pointedly. ‘I hear what happened at the bachelor party. I do not know this Freddie well, but tsk.’ She brushed away a non-existent speck from the sleeve of her dress. ‘We have no drama here,sì?’

‘You don’t need to worry about that.’ His cheeks flushed hot at the intensity of her gaze. ‘I will be keeping my head down and out of trouble.’

‘But you must also have fun!’ She steered him towards the table on the terrace which was laid out with an array of mouth-watering cheeses, pork charcuterie, bread and salads. ‘You seem sad. From the little Fabrizio say, I understand maybe why. I want you to be happy like you used to be when you were here. Full of life, making everyone laugh. We loved having you stay.’

He never thought of himself that way, so he should have been pleased, but her words cut deep because she had sensed his underlying sorrow.

Giada was whisked away by her husband to be introduced to someone, and Rhys found himself on his own. He helped himself to a plate of food and lingered at the edge of the terrace. He was avoiding Freddie and Zoe as much as they were avoiding him; Fabs and Mirabel were busy flitting between people; he didn’t particularly want to talk to Gareth, while Barnaby seemed to be having no problem confidently chatting to anyone. He knew he should make an effort to talk to Mirabel’s friends, but they were laughing with Valentino and another Italian and Rhys didn’t want to interrupt. Instead, he retreated inside to the living room and pretended to study an impressionist painting of trees by a contemporary Italian artist while he ate his food.

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