A Place in the Sun(20)

PERHAPS I’VE GONE full lesbian.

I hadn’t previously considered it, but it was starting to look like a viable option. Rather than admitting I was hung up on one unattainable guy, I needed to start considering the possibility that my brain was just trying to persuade me that all men were undesirable. I mean, in the two weeks since I’d arrived, I’d gone on three blind dates with truly lovely Italian men, and I’d left each one of them without so much as a kiss. I should have let them cart me off to their apartments and have their wicked way with me. I’d have had at least three proper (read: not self-induced) orgasms, and maybe I could have been on my way to planning an Italian marriage. Hear that? Gothic church bells ringing.

Instead, I’d found some arbitrary fault with each of them (as I did with every man) and I’d latched onto it. Ridiculous. Would it really be so bad to marry a man with a few flaws? God knows I had some—too many, really. My brother Freddie had told me on the phone just yesterday that I was flighty and irresponsible. A bit selfish too, he’d added when I’d told him I hadn’t been paying attention and to please repeat the last ten minutes of his ramblings.

“You can’t just move to Italy to escape your problems and assume they’ll work themselves out. Eternal optimism will only carry you so far. I worry, Georgie.”

“Well, you shouldn’t. I know exactly what I am doing.”

I didn’t.

Of course I had no bloody clue what I was doing. I’d spent the last two weeks in Vernazza and I was in no rush to leave. I’d asked Chiara about an extended-stay rate at the hotel and she’d promised to ask her mom about it. I knew it was a bit insane, but even if I didn’t know what I was doing, I knew it felt a lot better to be going through a quarter-life crisis in a place like Vernazza. I felt like I belonged. I went to The Blue Marlin every morning for breakfast, and Antonio greeted me with a familiar smile and asked if I wanted tea or coffee. Sometimes I’d order a fluffy croissant, or if I was getting a late start, I’d tuck into some eggs and bacon while I people-watched on the patio.

After that, I’d pop round to Katerina’s shop to see if she needed any help with stocking or folding new clothes. Even though there were quite a few clothing shops in Vernazza, I thought hers was the most chic. She didn’t bother with silly t-shirts or baseball caps. She sold frocks and linen trousers, shirts and handmade leather sandals she sourced from a man in Corniglia, the village just south of Vernazza.

If her shop was closed, I’d take a train to a neighboring village in Cinque Terre and spend the day exploring. But my favorite pastime by far was just sitting out on the boulders with gelato and eating it slowly beneath the giant red sun.

In those two weeks, I kept careful watch for Gianluca. Sometimes I’d catch sight of a man with his build or hair coloring and try to convince myself I’d seen him, but I never really did. I even made a point to walk by the shuttered bed and breakfast to check for any activity, but Massimo and Gianluca kept it locked. In the two weeks I’d been in Vernazza, no one had entered the building. Shame, really. It was in such a brilliant location, right across the square from my hotel, which meant it had a view of the sea rather than the terraced hills. They were mad men to let it sit there, empty.



…



“Georgie, put the box down. You don’t need another pair.”

I was helping Katerina in her shop. She’d tasked me with unpacking leather sandals and I’d set aside a strappy pair that happened to be in my size.

“But I don’t have this style yet.”

“You’ve bought four pairs already. No one needs that many leather sandals.”

She was wrong. I did. I tucked the box behind the counter for safekeeping and got back to work unloading and displaying the shoes the way she liked.

“I can’t keep having you work here for free.”

I shrugged. “Are you saying I’m hired?”

“I can’t afford to pay you.”

I shrugged again. “Wow. Fired on my first day.”

She laughed. “How about I repay you with a lovely meal instead?”

I turned over my shoulder to watch her going at it with a mannequin, trying to stuff it into a thin, fabulous sundress.

“WAIT,” I said, pushing to my feet. “I need that dress. Don’t bother finishing what you’re doing.”

She groaned. “I’ve been at it for ten minutes already!”

I didn’t let her argue. I pulled the dress out of her hands and laid it on top of my pair of leather sandals.

“Now what were you going on about? A meal?”

“I want to cook something at my flat. It’s not a posh place or anything, but it’d fit the four of us.”

“Four?”

I dreaded the idea of another blind date.

“You, me, Massimo, and Gianluca.”

I turned round before she could see my smile.

“Sound good? I’ve already asked the boys if they’re free.”

“And are they?” I croaked.

“Yes. Massimo said they’ll be round at eight, so wear that sundress you just stole from me and be there at seven to help me cook.”

I laughed. “I thought this was a thank-you meal?”

“No. The dress is your thank you. I need help cooking.”