“And you? Are you happy?” he asked.
“Oh...yes, of course.” Carla didn’t want to open up that can of worms. “I’m about to get married for the second time, the week after next. I don’t have any children—or sea creatures. How old are your boys?”
Fidele counted on his fingers. “They are nineteen, seventeen, twelve and ten. Like a football team,” he added, his eyes shining. “They are cooking dinner for us tonight. Please expect something simple, rather than a sophisticated meal.”
“It sounds wonderful.” She smiled a little ruefully, her dream of a romantic candlelit meal for two sliding away.
“They are going to call to us when it is ready.”
A delicious cooking aroma soon filled the air, and Fidele stood up when he heard someone shout his name. He offered his hand to help Carla to her feet, and they carried their empty bottles back across the road. The diving center was now closed for the day, and he opened a small gate, leading to a narrow passageway that she didn’t recall.
At the back of the building was a small courtyard, strung with fairy lights in the trees. A long table was set with a white tablecloth, plates and cutlery. The air was warm without a breeze and Carla could still hear the distant shush of the waves. “It’s beautiful,” she said, understanding clearly why Fidele had never wanted to leave, and why she’d been so tempted to stay.
“Thank you. It is my small paradise.” Fidele turned and waved to someone, a woman with a flock of graying curls who’d entered the yard. “Do you remember Eve?”
Carla glanced at the woman. Her arrival was unexpected, and Carla frowned, racking her brain. Eve?
As the woman drew closer, Carla recognized more of the woman’s features. And that was when it hit her. She’d once known a fellow traveler named Eve and had been friends with her throughout her time in Sardinia. There was a photograph of them both in her travel journal, holding a fish that they’d let slip back into the water, and she could now see they were one and the same person.
“Oh...yes,” Carla said, hoping Fidele wouldn’t hear the mix of surprise, disappointment and regret in her voice. “Of course, I remember Eve.”
She gazed all around her at the lights in the trees swaying in a warm breeze, and the tablecloth fluttering, and the warm smile lighting up Fidele’s face as he looked at his wife. She returned Eve’s grin even though she felt a lump growing in her throat and she tried to look pleased to see her, struggling to cover up the envy that was rippling inside her. Because Eve had stayed in Sardinia to carve out a life and family for herself with Fidele.
And Carla hadn’t.
Twenty-Three
Photos
Eve’s smile was wide and welcoming, crinkles radiating from her eyes. Her curls were tamed with a green bandanna, and her limbs were bronzed in her white shorts and Guns N’ Roses T-shirt. “Oh, my days, Carla,” she exclaimed, moving in for a hug. “I can’t believe you’re here. I was so excited when Fidele said you’d been in touch. It’s so great to see you. The boys and I have been out buying food at the market this afternoon and our meal is almost ready. Do you remember how you showed me how to dive, all those years ago? You were so lovely and kind, beautiful inside and out. You haven’t changed one bit.”
Although Carla was motionless, her body felt like she was moving, as if she was standing on a boat. An alternative life flashed before her eyes, one where she’d stayed in Sardinia with Fidele.
After leaving the island and her gap year behind, Carla had felt aimless when she’d arrived back in England, eventually entering a marriage that had hit the rocks. After her and Aaron’s divorce, she’d been so focused on setting up her business, on maintaining her composure and on ensuring other people found the right partner, she had quite forgotten that romantic, adventurous Carla ever existed.
In their Mediterranean paradise, Fidele and Eve had embraced a beautiful, simple life together, and it seemed to have worked out wonderfully.
“It’s so great to see you, too,” Carla said, her lips wobbling a little. She patted her hands to her sides. “So, you guys got together and married, then?”
Eve flung an arm around Fidele’s neck and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Yup. We took a leap of faith, and just look at us now.”
Fidele beamed back at her.
“That’s great.” Carla forced a smile, though her sense of loss was sharp. She mentally struck The King of Cups from the tarot deck, before the night had even started. Fidele seemed unlikely to be the significant man supposed to be waiting for her.
The three of them sat down and continued chatting until Fidele and Eve’s sons appeared in a line. They each said hello and introduced themselves.
“What have you cooked for us, boys?” Eve asked. She added under her breath to Carla, “I am teaching them to look after themselves, so I don’t have to do everything around here. I said they didn’t have to eat with us tonight, to give us adults a chance to talk.”
The boys served zuppa Gallurese, a cross between a lasagna and a casserole, made with layers of rustic bread, cheese, herbs and meat broth. This was followed by seadas, crisp, deep-fried pastries filled with lemony fresh cheese and soaked in warm honey.
Eve and Carla swapped stories about their gap years, comparing which countries they’d loved the most and discussing some of their favorite sights. “Do you feel you ever missed out by staying in one place?” Eve asked her husband.
“Never.” Fidele shook his head. “If you are happy at home, why look anywhere else? Real happiness comes from here.” He made a heart shape with his hands against his chest.
“You have obviously never lived in rainy old England, where the view is of the terraced house opposite and the dogs in the yard.” Eve laughed, her eyes encouraging Carla to join in. “Sometimes, when you are younger, you don’t know who you are yet, or where you belong in the world, and you have to travel to find yourself. If I hadn’t traveled to Sardinia, you and I wouldn’t have met.”
Eve and Fidele looked into each other’s eyes, and candlelight danced on their faces.
Carla curled her fingers, feeling like she was intruding. “How did you two get together?” she asked, curious how long it had taken Fidele to find love again after she’d left.
“It happened a few months after you went home,” Eve answered tactfully. “I dated a couple of other guys while I was here, but things didn’t work out.”
Fidele nodded in agreement.
“I went on one date with this drunken guy who was hassling me to go back to his place when Fidele showed up and rescued me, like a fairy-tale prince or something.”
Carla’s smile felt tight, and she wondered if her hosts would be lovey-dovey all night.
When she’d first started dating again after her divorce, it hadn’t been a positive experience. One of her dates had accidentally left his wallet at home so she had to pay for his meal, drinks and taxi, and another asked if he could sleep on Carla’s sofa because his wife had kicked him out. One brought his mother along because she liked to vet his potential girlfriends.
Carla had attended a speed-dating session where the selection of potential suitors had been far too old, too young, too brash, too timid or preened like pedigreed cats. She’d met one of them afterward for a proper date and he’d taken her to an Argentinian-style steak restaurant, even though she’d been vegetarian at the time. In comparison, her subsequent dates with Tom had almost been perfect.
All this talk about Eve and Fidele’s big love affair made her mouth feel dry. “I’ve brought some photographs with me,” she said to change the subject. “I kept a travel journal during my travels and thought you might like to see them.”
“Wicked.” Eve’s eyebrows lifted. “Yes, please.”
Carla opened the book, realizing there were more photos of her and Fidele than she’d originally thought.
