“Approximately sixty-five percent of our itinerary is still incomplete,” he said scratchily. “You also ran away from us the last time we were together. These are not the actions of a reliable person and this does not bode well for you in your relationships, dear Carla. Not well at all. I would suggest...”

She listened and heard so much of her own personality in his words, recognizing so many of the sentiments, statements and questions she’d used when formulating Logical Love that it made her shudder. “I’m truly sorry,” she said at the end of his speech. “Thanks, and goodbye, Ruben.”

Carla couldn’t remember much about her flight back to Spain, other than there were stairs up to the aircraft, a lady’s legs squashed against her own for the entirety of the flight, and the pilot announced they were cruising at an altitude of thirty-five thousand feet.

The two hours spent in the air seemed to go by in a flash and before she knew it, the plane touched down at Girona’s airport. Carla hopped into a taxi and handed the driver a piece of paper featuring the address Babs had given her.

She flopped her head back and looked out the window as they left the airport behind, driving first along the highway, and then into the countryside. At the welcome sight of dusty roads, trails of trees, a team of cyclists wearing red vests and the endless blue sky that was darkening as the evening crept in, Carla let out a long exhale. She watched as two butterflies fluttered close to her window, circling each other as if choreographing a dance routine. The farther the taxi drove, the more Carla felt like she was leaving the curse and her troubles behind, at least for a little while.

When the car pulled up outside the property, her surroundings felt peaceful and calm compared to Barcelona, Blanca del Mar, Carvoeiro and Amsterdam. The only noise Carla heard was the chirping of crickets and the crunch of gravel beneath her feet.

The farmhouse in front of her was constructed from rough gray stone with a ridged terra-cotta roof. The doorway and windows were arched, set into the building in a higgledy-piggledy style, so Carla couldn’t determine how many floors there were. The wooden door looked medieval as she took hold of the circular iron knocker and rapped it.

“Don’t laugh,” Babs said as a way of greeting when she opened the door. She swept a hand in front of her long, shapeless dress. “I know the words frumpy and tent come to mind.”

Carla tried not to giggle. She focused on Babs’s face as she entered the house, struggling not to look at her outfit. “I’m not saying a thing, other than ‘hello’ and ‘it’s so nice to see you.’”

The two women hugged so tightly in the hallway, it was like they’d both been swept out to sea and had found a rock to cling to.

They eventually pulled apart, and Carla began rifling through her suitcase. “I’ve brought the clothes you gave me, and I bought you some underwear and cosmetics at the airport.”

“Thank you. I’ve got cash to reimburse you.” Babs pressed her hands together in prayer. “Thank goodness you came. I hate Diego seeing me like this.” She led the way into the kitchen and showed Carla some bread, cheese and a bottle of Tempranillo. “Make yourself at home while I try to look human again.”

Carla was too tired and hungry to fully appreciate her new surroundings. She buttered a slice of bread and sat down with her elbows on the kitchen table, pushing her knuckles into her cheeks.

“You look how I feel,” Babs said when she reemerged an hour later. Her platinum hair was now clean and silky, and she was dressed in a black-and-white zebra-stripe dress. Her eyelashes had their usual spider-leg quality.

“Gee, thanks.”

They sat together, both quietly exhausted.

Come on, Carla, pick yourself back up. She looked around her, trying to focus on something positive. “This place is beautiful, so serene.”

“It’s bloody rustic, that’s what it is. I feel like a fish out of water.” Babs grimaced. “It doesn’t even have wallpaper.”

Carla had initially felt the same way about Babs’s Place and had grown to love it. “When you and Mum stayed in Diego’s other place, was it like this?”

Babs squinted, tapping into her memories. “It was an apartment above a pharmacy in Lloret de Mar, so it was an old building, but not prehistoric like this place. I didn’t expect to bump into a ghost or suit of armor when I went to the bathroom at night. It had this stone window seat, and me and Suzy used to sit and look out of the window together. We made up stories about the customers going in and out of the pharmacy, trying to guess what they were buying, to amuse ourselves.”

Carla dropped her hands away from her face. “What kind of stories?”

Babs laughed to herself. “I remember this old couple used to turn up most days, shuffling into the pharmacy and leaving with huge paper bags full of stuff. It was probably pills and medicine for their ailments, but Suzette insisted they were hosting undercover sex parties and had to stock up with accoutrements, so they donned gray wigs to buy stuff in secret.”

Carla let out a loud laugh. It sounded exactly like a story her mum might tell.

“I remember she liked this red-haired guy who arrived once a week,” Babs reflected. “His hair shone copper in the sunshine, and Suzy’s cheeks got this kind of rosy flush whenever she saw him. My story was that he was really blond but dyed his hair orange to attract the ladies, like bees to a brightly colored flower. Your mum was a bit secretive when she had a crush on guys, never sharing her true feelings about them and—”

The ping of Carla’s phone interrupted Babs’s flow and Carla shuffled in her seat, wondering if Tom had messaged her. How was she going to tell him she was now back in Spain?

“Don’t mind me,” Babs said, nodding toward it. “I’ll get more wine.”

Carla nodded apologetically. She saw instead that Fidele had sent her a message saying he’d love to meet up and she showed the screen to Babs. “Another one of my exes responded,” she said.

“Ooh, are you going to see him? Where does this one live?”

“Sardinia. I’d love to see him again one day, but I’m not sure I have the strength or inclination to do so right now.” Carla sighed and stuffed the phone back into her pocket. “I’ll probably stay with you for a day or two, make sure you’re okay and then return home to England.” An image dropped into her mind of her wedding dress, hanging in her wardrobe. She could tell she’d gained a few pounds during her travels and hoped the cream silk wouldn’t strain across her stomach.

She and Babs ate olives, bread and cheese for supper, though Carla skipped the wine because it tasted a bit like vinegar to her. As night fell, she saw the sky was so clear the stars looked like diamonds tossed onto indigo velvet. She picked up a woolen blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders, relieved she was able to put some distance between herself and the chaos of her travels thus far.

Babs’s phone rang and she picked up the call, walking into the hallway to hold the conversation. Carla heard her footsteps pacing up and down.

“That was Diego,” Babs announced when she returned. “He’s booked some time off work and is coming here tomorrow. I’ll get to see him a day early. He’s spoken to some local builders for me, and the damage to my bar isn’t as bad as I initially thought, nothing too structural.”

“It’s nice to see you smiling again.”

Babs blushed. “Diego has that effect on me. I just wish I could find a way to make things work. I told him you’d arrived to keep me company.”

“If you want to spend some time together, I can make myself scarce,” Carla offered.

“No need for that, petal. I told him you’ve had a bit of bad news and he offered to take us both out to cheer us up. I’m so glad you’re finally going to meet each other. You can tell me what you think of him and what I need to do to sort things out between us.”

“I’m not sure I can do that...” Carla started.

“Well, you can do a better job than I can,” Babs said with her hands on her hips. “You’re the matchmaker around here, after all.”

It sounded like a challenge, but also something to take Carla’s mind off her own issues for a while. “No pressure, then?” she said, with a laugh to Babs.

Nineteen

Olive Trees

The morning daylight in Carla’s room was different from any she’d experienced before. It was clear, golden and bright, and she lay in bed sweeping her hand back and forth through the rays shining through her window, feeling the warmth on her skin.

She could hear the shower gushing and she raised an eyebrow to herself, surprised Babs was up so early when she usually languished in bed until noon. Carla washed in the sink in her room and got dressed.

“I got up early to put my face on,” Babs said when the two women bumped into each other on the landing. “I want to look half-decent for Diego.”

“I’ll make breakfast for us. Does bread and cheese sound okay to you?”

“I don’t have anything else. There may be an olive or two left if we’re lucky.” Babs laughed. “I think the nearest shop is a couple of miles away.”

Carla bustled around in the kitchen, seeing what else she could find to eat. She was trying to work out how to use the oven, so she could at least attempt to make cheese on toast, when the door knocker thudded several times. Wiping her hands on a towel, she padded along the hallway in her bare feet.

The man standing before her, when she’d opened the door, had distinguished white temples in his dark curled hair, and his tanned, crinkled skin reminded her of a Medjool date. She recognized him from Babs’s photographs, though he was now a lot older. “Diego?” she said.

He nodded and tilted his head. “You are Carla, yes?” He offered his hand for a shake. “It is very lovely to meet you.”

“Yes, hello. You, too.” She waved her arm toward the hallway. “It feels odd to invite you into your own home.”