The Summer Villa. Melissa Hill
mind. I had loads of men running after me, and I thought it was great. Mad craic altogether. Then I stopped being twenty and became thirty, and still I thought I could live the same life. Then thirty became forty,’ she explained. ‘And I started waking up with lads I didn’t remember, in places that weren’t my own. Then one day I was on the far side of forty-five and there was no one. All the men were settled and married. My friends had moved on and had families, whereas I had just me.’
A hollow feeling began to fill Annie’s stomach as she listened to a story that sounded way too familiar. It was as if the older woman could see right into her soul. She didn’t want to be Felicity. She wanted a family, preferably while she was young enough to enjoy it. But there was no sign of that anywhere on the horizon just now.
It took her a moment to realise that her hand had stopped its work and was hovering just above Betty’s head.
Everyone was looking at Felicity, surprised. No one had expected that story. She was a frequent customer but not one who routinely chit-chatted about personal stuff like some of the others. Today she’d revealed more than any of them ever had.
Now Felicity’s gaze met Annie’s full on and there was no mistaking the warning in them.
‘Decide what you want and go for it, Annie. Don’t think that tomorrow will always be there. You won’t always be thirty, or even forty. One day, the way you lived in your younger years will catch up with you.’
Annie got it. She understood. She already felt as if she’d lived as long as some of the women who came to the salon. She was tired.
Tired of meaninglessness, empty encounters, having no one she could call on to be there. She looked at Felicity, with her sad eyes, grey hair and wrinkled brow. Would she look like that in thirty years’ time? Would she be telling someone else a similar cautionary tale in years to come?
Not if she could help it.
‘Well, it just got very serious in here,’ Rose joked, breaking the stillness. Everyone laughed. Everyone but Annie.
Felicity’s story had hit home.
That night, as she walked home, Annie’s mind was racing while her body was weary. She’d seen a record number of clients that day, including several last-minute emergencies that she simply couldn’t refuse. Why did people try to do their own hair when they’d never done it before?
She flopped onto her bed and once again stared up at the ceiling as she kicked her shoes off. Annie worked hard; she always did. She had to.
She was seventeen when she moved out and got her own place. Life with her mother had become unbearable, and after one of Eileen’s boyfriends made a pass at her, she knew that it was time to get out of there.
Her mother hadn’t protested and Annie believed she was happy to see her go. In fact, she was sure of it. She’d walked out the door and moved into a friend’s place for a while, then bounced from one couch to another until she finished secondary school, by which time she was already helping out Rose. Fifteen years later she was now her longest-serving (and oldest) staff member.
Annie rolled onto her side. Fifteen years. In one respect it was such a short time; in another, it was forever.
She was still young, but in those years she’d felt like she’d lived a thousand lives. She’d been wilder than most. Lack of parental supervision and the misguided belief that she was living the high life had seen her make mistake after mistake. She gave a hollow laugh at her silliness. Did she really think that being parentless had served her well? At the time she had. Now she knew better.
Sleep crept up on her. Annie didn’t even realise when she’d started to drift off, but the sound of her mobile phone ringing had awakened her.
‘What now …’ se whined as she forced herself off the bed. She shuffled towards her coat pocket and took the phone out, answering grumpily. ‘Hello?’
‘Hello, Annie.’ The voice on the other end was the last she’d expected to hear.
‘Felicity? How did you get my number?’
Her mind was whirring like an out-of-control mechanism as she listened to the older woman speak.
‘Annie, I’ve been keeping an eye on you over the years and you have a wonderful heart. I see a lot of myself in you – the younger me, I mean – and like I said in the salon, it’s all too easy to stray off-path when you’re young and foolish.’ She cleared her throat. ‘But I suspect you’ve already realised that yourself.’
Annie was confused. ‘I’m not sure what you mean …’
‘I can’t say too much at the moment, and it’s hard to explain, but, love, I’d like to do something for you. Something small as a thank you for being so good to me over the years.’
‘For me?’ Annie asked sceptically when the other woman finished her spiel. This was weird. ‘You don’t have to do anything for me, Felicity. Really, I’m doing grand.’ She wasn’t about to let on about her struggles.
‘Please. Don’t argue. Just … keep an eye out for something in the post from me soon. Can you let me know your address?’
Annie’s brow furrowed afresh. ‘Felicity, no, I appreciate you thinking of me, but really, I don’t need anything …’
Felicity was having none of it, insisting she pass on her address or she’d just get it from Rose at the salon anyway. Indeed, she seemed just as stubborn as Annie was.
‘OK,’ she finally conceded, ‘but you really don’t have to do this.’
‘I know that. But promise me this: just accept it, OK? For me.’
Reluctantly agreeing, Annie said goodbye to Felicity, put down the phone and once again curled up in her bed. What was the woman on about?
Just accept it?
Accept what?
Annie rolled onto her back, her eyes staring up at the ceiling, now wide awake, her thoughts whirring.
‘What are you up to, Felicity?’
Now
The drive back from the restaurant in Sorrento had been a silent one. Kim knew Antonio wanted her to confide more in him but she couldn’t.
She and Gabriel weren’t him and Emilia. There were some major differences in their relationship. Kim idolised the older woman, who might soon no longer even remember her.
Right from the start, Emilia had inspired and encouraged her. She had facilitated everything that Kim had achieved with The Sweet Life, had pushed her out of her comfort zone, and encouraged her to break away from the hold her parents had on her.
After all these years, Kim wished she could thank whatever god was smiling on her the day she’d met her and Antonio. His wife was someone Kim admired and adored, but definitely not one she could compare with.
Emilia was the best of women.
‘Are you going to be grumpy for the rest of the day? If so, I might as well fix us both a drink.’ Antonio’s voice again interrupted her musings.
They were back at the villa now, sitting at a patio table outside on the terrace, next to the adjoining lawn that was to be the centre’s yoga area.
‘I don’t think my being grumpy is the reason you want a drink,’ Kim drawled, briefly checking her phone.
‘Perhaps, but it is the reason I’m going to use.’
Still his words brought a smile to her face. The Italian knew the right things to say at just the right time. He had for as long as she’d known him.
Having checked her email, she scrolled