Learning to Dance Again (11 page)

‘What do you fancy?’ Tony said.

‘I’m not sure really. I don’t usually eat a big meal in the middle of the day. This does look nice though.’

‘I think I might just get some fish and salad. But you have whate
ver you like. Don’t forget you’re on holiday.’

‘I would quite like to try some proper pasta. But I don
’t really understand the menu.’

‘Do you like seafood?’

‘Of course; I’m the daughter of a fisherman.’

Tony laughed. He turned to the waiter and gave him their order in fluent Italian, which seem
ed to catch the waiter by surprise.

‘What did you order for me?’

‘One of the chef’s specialities, according to this menu anyway. Seafood pasta cooked in a creamy sauce, some salad and bread. Hope that’s OK?’

‘Sounds lovely.
I don’t think that waiter expected you to speak Italian.’

Tony laughed, momentarily looking like a naughty schoolboy.

‘I know. Everyone sees me as this posh Englishman who couldn’t possibly understand a word of their beautiful language. But I’m fluent in Italian and fairly proficient at the Sicilian dialect too; that’s what really surprised the waiter.’

Julia looked up and saw the waiter talking to the chef behind the counter. They looked over at Tony as if they had been talking about him. Julia smiled at them. The chef lifted his hand in greeting.

Their lunch was perfect. Julia’s seafood pasta was so delicious she asked Tony to get the recipe from the chef. She wanted to be able to cook it when she got back home. The chef came over to their table, perhaps to hear for himself how good the Englishman was at speaking Sicilian.

When they left
the restaurant, Julia stepped out into the sunshine and shielded her eyes against the sun, which seemed brighter still after the cool dark restaurant. She reached into her handbag for her sunglasses.

‘That was lovely, thank you so much.’

‘My pleasure. Now let’s go and see the Valley of the Temples. You’ll love it.’

Tony drove down the
hill towards the sea. It was a long and winding road, not particularly well kept, despite it being the road to a world famous tourist destination. Julia noticed a dead dog lying at the side of the kerb. There was something rather shocking about seeing the poor animal left to rot in full view of passing traffic. However, Julia forgot all about that when the first of the temple buildings came into sight.

After the long drive across the mountainous and rock
y centre of the island they were now driving across a relatively flat stretch of land that hugged the west coast of Sicily. In the distance Julia could see a multi-columned reddish brown structure. The afternoon sun shone a spotlight on it, making it centre stage in the beautiful green landscape.

There were a couple of tour buses parked
at the side of the road close to the monument, and within moments they had caught up with a group of American tourists, all speaking rather loudly, but good naturedly. Some of them were arguing about the origins of the temple.

‘But it must be Roman, we’re in Italy.’

‘No, it’s definitely Greek. They were invaded by the Greeks.’

‘And the French,’ said another.

‘No; it was the Normans.’

‘Same thing!’

Tony took Julia’s arm and guided her past the crowd.

‘We don’t want to end up with that lot.’

Julia was more concerned about the way Tony had taken hold of her than with the crowd of elderly tourists. It was a peculiar paternalistic gesture but it made her a little uncomfortable, although she was too shy to shake him off. She walked faster, and soon there was just the two of them walking around the far side of the temple from the other tourists.

Tony let go of her arm and Julia moved away a little, as if she was in a hurry to inspect the building close up. Within
moments she had forgotten her discomfort when they walked amongst the ruins of the Greek temple.

She tried to imagine it when it was first completed. She stood still and scanned the surrounding fields and hills and pictured the lives of the peo
ple who had lived here in this idyllic setting. The land appeared to be fertile and there would undoubtedly be plenty of fish in the Mediterranean Sea. It seemed like the perfect place to live.

They spent a couple of
hours looking at the ancient monuments in the Valley of the Temples. By then it was late afternoon and clouds were rolling in off the sea. It was cooling a little, pleasantly so for Julia, but they decided it was time to drive back home. Tony insisted Julia should try driving back and since there didn’t seem to be too many cars around, she agreed.

When they got back to the villa they were both tired from the drive. Julia thanked Tony profusely for the day out and went back to her little villa and took a shower before making herself something to eat for her supper.

It
was still warm on the veranda so after she had finished eating Julia took her iPad outside and decided to send some messages home, along with some photos she had taken that day. She sat on the lounger feeling exhausted, but her head was buzzing after the conversation with Tony and the excitement of exploring a new land.

She uploaded some photos onto Facebook a
long with a status update:
My day trip to the Valley of the Temples. What a lovely drive it was across Sicily.

She checked her emails and replied to a message from Bryden,
and then she looked at car hire prices in Sicily. She felt more confident about renting a car now, especially as Bryden had just announced he was coming over for a week with his girlfriend. She decided she would ask Tony’s advice on car hire companies before making the booking, and since that would have to wait until the next day she went back to Facebook to see what gossip she was missing out on.

Cameron
had commented on the photographs.

“
Looks amazing, great to see sunshine - a howling gale here.”

Julia looked at the sidebar o
f the website and could see Cameron was still online. She clicked on his name and wrote a personal message to him.

“
I actually drove two hours across Sicily. Can you believe that? Me, who’s never even driven in Aberdeen.”

“
Well done you! Hope you’re having fun,”
Cameron replied immediately.

“
I am actually. The landlord is lovely; he invited me to dinner with his friends. He’s a widower too, so he knows how I feel, which is nice.”

“
Ooh er, I hope he’s not some Mafioso type.”

“No, silly. He’
s English actually.”
Julia sighed at yet another stereotypical comment about the Mafia.

“
Now I’m really worried!”

“
Don’t be daft. He’s the perfect gentleman and he’s a famous writer. Anthony Hugo. Duncan used to read some of his books.”

“Impressive!
You seem to have fallen on your feet”.

“
What’s that supposed to mean?”
Julia frowned at the screen as she typed.

“
Nothing, just that he must be an interesting person to have running a holiday villa.”

“
Yeah, he is. He took me out for the day to see the Greek Temples. But it was a one off; he has a publishing deadline to meet, so now I have plucked up the courage to hire my own car. Bryden is coming over soon.”

“
Excellent, so you won’t be lonely then.”

“
No, but it does feel very strange being here without Duncan. I keep looking round to see where he is. Is that mad?”

“
Not really. I sometimes go to send Laura a text to tell her when I will be home from work, and then I remember – she doesn’t give a fuck!”

“
Sounds like you need a holiday too.”

“
Is that an invitation?”

“
Behave! You will owe me another bunch of roses at this rate.”

“
LOL!”

“
Anyway, it’s been a long day - I’m off to bed now. Goodnight.”

“
Cheerio!”

Julia logged off the internet and put her iPad down on the little table beside her. She fancied a drink now so she poured herself a glass of red wine, which Maria had chosen for her. It was an excellent choice. She put on a cardigan and went back outside and sat watching the lights of the town below. It was so peaceful here; although it was far less peaceful inside her head.

11

The next morning Julia woke early, the warm sunshine once again beating its way through the un-shuttered bedroom window, and making sleep impossible. She got up and had a shower, feeling rather sluggish and tired, and the shower was insufficiently refreshing. She got dressed and made breakfast and took it outside to eat on the veranda.

There wasn’t a breath of wind and the sun was already creating a heat haze over the town. Th
e Tyrrhenian Sea merged seamlessly into the blue sky and it was all set to be another glorious day. Julia should have been happy; after all this was exactly what she had hoped for when she had decided to run away from the autumnal gales and dreich weather of Shetland. Instead she felt gloomy and miserable.

She struggled to rememb
er the good times with Duncan. Sometimes she struggled to recall anything about him other than his funeral. As she held her cup of coffee up to her lips and inhaled the strong dark aroma, she tried to remember their wedding day, but her brain refused to call up any kind of comforting image. Instead, all she could see was Duncan lying lifeless on the hospital trolley. She could feel the awkward touch of Liam’s hand on her shoulder as she sat beside Duncan. She heard the sound of the young doctor’s voice explaining what they had done to try and save him. She heard people talking in the corridor outside. She could recall every minute detail of Duncan’s death and the week leading up to the funeral. All she wanted was to see him smile at her; even if that was only a memory of a smile. And yet if she looked at a photograph of him, all she could still see was the photograph of a dead man. It seemed as if the light had gone out of his eyes in all the pictures of him she had once loved. It was impossible; a trick of the mind, but they gave her no comfort.

She had never felt more lost and lonely in her life, and yet there was nobody she wanted to share this burden with. All of her closest friends and family were struggling in their own way
s to accept Duncan’s death. If she rang one of her sons she felt she would only add to their distress if she told them how she truly felt.

She stood up abruptly and put down her coffee. She needed to do something, quickly. Anything; anything
at all to stop thinking this way. The dark thoughts were moving in like black clouds on a stormy day and she was afraid for herself.

She hurried inside to the kitchen
and poured herself a glass of juice. She drank it quickly, gasping as her temples succumbed to brain-freeze. She put the glass down and looked around the room searching for her iPad. When she found it she logged on to the internet with the intention of sending a message to Marianne, hoping she would have wise words to offer on how to get past this feeling of despair.

Instead she logged onto Facebook and
, in a moment of madness, logged in as Duncan. She had never done this before, although she had always known his password. As his page loaded up she could see there were hundreds of posts that had gone unread, a new friend request and six private messages. She clicked on the friend request button, curious to know who had asked him to be their friend. She stared at the name, trying to place where she had heard of Alasdair Barton before. It took a while to remember he had been at University with Duncan, and now he was living in Dubai, which no doubt explained why he had sent a friend request two months after Duncan’s death. Julia sent a quick message to explain and then turned her attention to the personal messages.

In reverse chronological order t
he first message was from Marianne, which really surprised Julia. She had sent it in the early hours of the morning after her birthday party.

“
You missed a great party Duncan! I’m still so mad at you for not being here. We miss you so much. Love you! Marianne xxx”

It was typical of
Marianne to rage at Duncan like that and Julia smiled sadly.

The second message she opened was from Bryden; sent at the end of August, on the first day of the new school year.

“Dear Dad, I feel stupid writing to you when you can’t read this, but it’s my first day teaching as a proper Maths teacher, and I wish you could be here so I could tell you how it went. I’m really nervous now. A new school, new kids, new everything. I miss you. Bryden.”

Julia didn’t even attempt to blink back the tears
as she read her son’s message. She wondered why he hadn’t said anything like this to her. He had rung her that morning, sounding happy and excited. He had rung again after school and sounded exhausted but content.

The remaining messages were all sent in the first two days after Duncan’s death. They were personal tributes from friends and colleagues.

It had never occurred to her to send Duncan a message like that. She almost felt guilty she hadn’t attempted to contact him in any way, but whilst her beliefs about life after death were unfixed and changeable, she certainly didn’t think Duncan was sitting up in heaven logging onto Facebook. He had hardly bothered with it when he was alive.

She looked at some of the new posts that had appeared in the newsfeed. There was nothing of interest. She stared at the message button and had half a mind to freak Marianne out by replying to her message on Duncan’s behalf. But that would be mean. She did however, smile at the thought.

She switched off the iPad and decided to ring Marianne instead, risking an expensive international call. She looked at her watch and rang her at work.

‘It’s me, are you busy?’

‘I’m never too busy to speak to you. How’s Sicily?’

‘Hot, well
hot for me anyway. It’s twenty seven degrees already.’

‘
Wow. Make the most of it; it’s a day of utter shite here. I would give anything to come over and join you by the pool.’

‘I wish you could…’

Julia paused, unable to release her vocal chords from the iron grip of sadness.

‘Hey, are you alright? What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing; everything. I just logged onto Duncan’s Facebook.  I saw your message and one from Bryden…’

‘I’m sorry
; it was stupid of me … I was drunk.’

‘No, I’
m not mad at you; it was sweet. We did miss him at the party,’ Julia said.

‘We miss him every day.’

‘I don’t know what to do now?’

‘In what way?’

‘In every way. I feel like I’m being swallowed up by a black hole. I’m kind of scared actually.’

‘It’s not surprising. You’ve had so much to deal with. Not just with Duncan dying so
suddenly, but with him being poorly for so long, and the boys leaving home. It’s all taking its toll. Perhaps you should think about taking some medication to help you over the next few months.’

‘Maybe,’ Julia replied
, doubtfully.

‘I know you don’t want to go down the route of taki
ng anti-depressants, but they’ve changed since you took them after Bryden was born. It might help numb the pain a little.’

‘I’ll think about it when I get home. In the
meantime, I just need to do something positive for the next few days. I need a project; something to focus on.’

‘
OK, I know what; you need to go shopping. Go and buy a new outfit. Something to wear to our Christmas party. I know it’s ages away, but do it for me. New dress, new shoes, new handbag, the whole works. That’s your mission for the day.’

Julia laughed. ‘No, that would be your ideal mission. I have heaps of clothes a
lready, and I can’t imagine I’ll be going to any Christmas parties this year.’

‘
But you don’t have heaps of Italian clothes though. And most of your old clothes are too big for you now. Go on, I dare you to buy something totally different. Imagine you’re going shopping with Gok Wan.’

‘I wou
ld rather go shopping with you.’

‘That would be fun
. But really, you should do something nice for yourself. It might help you snap out of it, even if it’s just for one day. Go to a beauty salon and get your nails done or something.’

‘Oh yeah, like I can say that in Italian.’

‘I doubt you need to say anything, just waggle your fingers. It’s not rocket science.’

‘I’ll think about it.’

‘You do that. And when you feel down, remember this, Duncan fell in love with you because you were always smiling and laughing. He told me that himself. So don’t let him down. He’d want you to carry on and be happy, wouldn’t he?’

‘He would; b
ut it’s not that easy.’

‘No darling
, it really isn’t.’

The phone call made Julia feel marginally more cheerful, or if not cheerful, she did feel a little more connected to the world. She wondered at the wisdom of taking herself off to somewhere so isolated from her friends and family. It had seemed such a good idea at the time, but now she felt lonely.

She thought about going home, but then she pictured the triumphant look on Jamie’s face when
she would have to tell him he was right, she shouldn’t have gone. For some reason she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. She was still smarting from the argument they had just before she left Edinburgh.

She would just have to suffer in silence. She was already into day three of her holiday and it was now mid-morning. It was t
ime to explore the town.

Julia put on some comfortable walking boots and stuffed a cotton cardigan
into her handbag in case it cooled down; ever the Shetlander, she was never optimistic about the weather.

She strolled past Tony’s villa noticing his car was not on the drive, although Maria’s
battered old Fiat Panda was. She marched down the narrow lane that led to the town. It was about two miles to Cefalu, but nearly all downhill.

It was Monday
morning, and the houses she passed along the way looked unoccupied, no doubt because people were at work and school. The road widened and turned like a hairpin back on itself and she stopped to look down at the town, half a mile closer than she could see from her villa. Pale yellow buildings hugged the shore, and a huge promontory of a cliff overlooked the town, with a religious monument clinging precariously to the top.

However
inviting the town looked, Julia could scarcely summon up the energy to continue with her walk. She didn’t really feel like exploring today. She looked back up the steep road where she had come from and sighed. She could hardly be bothered to walk back either. She leaned over the low concrete crash barrier. There was a long drop down to the rocks below.

She wondered, fleetingly, what it would feel like to jump over the edge. It would hurt, she decided, after calculating it might be poss
ible to survive the fall if she missed the rocks and landed on the grassy slope below them.

A car pulled up beside her and Julia turned to see Maria winding down the window to speak to her.

‘Buongiorno! You are walking to Cefalu?’

‘Si!’ Julia said, smiling back at her.

‘You like a drive in car?’

Julia frowned, not quite sure what Maria was
suggesting. Then she saw Maria was moving her handbag from the passenger seat and making room for her.

‘Si, grazie,’

‘Prego,’ Maria replied, as Julia climbed into the passenger seat.

As she did up her seatbelt
Julia heard a strange sound and turned to see a toddler sitting in a baby seat. He gurgled and stared at Julia with huge brown eyes.

‘Bambino!’ Julia said, grinning
at Maria.

‘
Si, my grandson, Luca.’

Julia turned back to the boy.

‘Ciao Luca. Aren’t you a gorgeous thing?’

‘My daughter is working.
I am babysitter today.’

‘That’s nice for you.
’

‘Si, molto bene.’

The journey down the hill in Maria’s car did not take long and a few minutes later she stopped the car at the side of the road near the train station so Julia could get out. Julia turned and waggled Luca’s foot and said goodbye to him, and thanked Maria for the lift.

Maria drove off with a wave as
Julia stood at the side of the road and wondered where to go. She saw a sign for the Duomo, the Cathedral, and decided to head that way, as she remembered from the guide book it was surrounded by restaurants. She would have a drink and then decide what to do next.

She strode towards the Cathedral and
soon found herself in a large square. The square was overshadowed by the towering rock that rose vertically out of the landscape. Julia sat down on a bench and stared up at the summit. She could see something colourful moving near the top and realised with a gasp, there were two climbers making their way up the side of the cliff face. She sighed with relief when she saw they had safety ropes tethering them to the rock, so she was not in danger of watching anyone fall to their death. Her own fear of heights made her feel slightly queasy watching them, so she turned her attention to the top of the rock where she could make out a small stone building topped by a crucifix. It could be reached via a footpath leading out of the town but Julia decided it was too hot to embark upon such a demanding climb, even if there were astounding views to be had.