Learning to Dance Again (12 page)

She turned and loo
ked around at the restaurants. They all looked quite busy and she suddenly felt a little reluctant to sit in one of them alone. She spied a shop that sold drinks and souvenirs and decided to just buy a bottle of water and walk down to the beach.

Julia
emerged from one of the shady side streets into the full sun and was arrested by the glorious sight of a sandy beach; full of people sunbathing, swimming and strolling around. She sat down on a low wall that separated the beach from the road and looked out to sea.

The water
looked inviting and she could tell it was still warm, as there were little children splashing around in the shallows, and some adults standing up to their waists in the sea. A strong but warm breeze propelled a windsurfer across the bay. Julia lifted her face to the sun and closed her eyes, revelling in the warmth. It’s October, she thought to herself, and couldn’t help but smile at the pleasure she took in being in a sunny warm climate, when it was windy and raining back home.

Her reverie was disturbed by the loud buzz of a moped that
had stopped behind her. Julia opened her eyes and turned round to see a woman sitting astride a white Vespa. She wore pale pink jeans, a white shirt and a pink Chanel-inspired handbag with a long gilt strap across her body. Julia watched as the woman took off her helmet and shook her head and fluffed up her silver bobbed hair. Julia’s eyes widened with surprise when she realised the woman was probably in her late fifties, or maybe even older. She was enviably chic and confident.

The woman lifted up the lid of the luggage box on the back of her scooter and popped her helmet inside. Then she strode across the road to a hairdresser’s salon and disappeared inside.

Well I never, thought Julia, looking down at her own ill-fitting jeans, boots, and handbag which somehow did not convey anywhere near as glamorous an image. She felt frumpy by comparison. She remembered what Marianne had said about going shopping and decided it was time to treat herself. She was still only forty nine, for a few more days anyway. It was no age at all.

Julia stood up and headed back towards the town centre. She had passed a couple of interesting shops on the way down to the beach, but she had not stopped to look inside. This time she felt fired up with a lit
tle more enthusiasm. Maybe she would never look as stylish as the older woman on the scooter, but perhaps she could meet her half-way.

Julia stood outside a small boutique and stared through the window. She had lost her nerve already. The clothes inside the store were flamboyant, colourful and designed for women with a little more confidence than Julia. She caught a glimpse of her own reflection staring back at he
r. She looked old and tired and her hair hung limply around her shoulders, wilting under the heat.

Julia stood up straight and held her head up; a marginal improvement
. Her navy shirt hung from her frame, shapeless, baggy and probably not the right colour for her skin tone, or indeed the climate. Her boot-cut faded blue jeans were too loose and although she had pulled them in with a belt, the overall effect was not flattering. Grief had aged her, creating dark hollows under her eyes, deepened the lines on her face and dulled her once sparkling eyes.

She turned away from
the shop in disgust and wandered up the steep road towards the Cathedral and then crossed the square and stepped inside the cool building. She stared up at the light filtering in through the stained glass windows, or at least what remained of them. Some of the stained glass had been repaired by cheaper plain glass. The once-grand Cathedral looked shabby and worn out, but Julia sat down in one of the pews, glad to be out of the hot sun. She watched an elderly woman shuffle past, genuflect in front of the altar and then kneel down to pray.

Julia stared at the altar
, draped in a white cloth and buried under the weight of a variety of red flowers. The flowers reminded her of Duncan’s funeral and she bowed her head in sorrow.

She considered praying, but what was there to pray for? If there was a God, then Duncan would be
safe in heaven. If there wasn’t, then what would be the point? What could she ask of God anyway? She wasn’t going to ask for a miracle – to turn back the clock, to before Duncan died. All she wanted was to feel less pain, and to find a reason to smile again.

The dusty
incense-scented air caught in her throat and Julia started to cough. She retrieved a bottle of water from her handbag and took a sip. As she tipped her head back, she noticed the sun’s rays shining through the chancel window, highlighting a mural of the Virgin Mary weeping over the lifeless body of her son.

Julia stared at the mural for a moment. She thought of her own sons; two fine young men, who she had rather neglected for the last few months. They had lost their father, and in some ways they had lost their mother too. Julia sat up straight, took a
nother sip of water and then stuffed the bottle back in her bag. This was madness, utter madness. She needed to get a grip and start thinking about other people besides herself.

She stood up and strode towards the door and then
spotted a stand full of candles, some lit, some waiting to be lit. Julia fished in her pocket for some coins and put a donation in the honesty box beside the stand. She picked out a candle and lit it and stared into the flickering flame as it established itself; then set the candle down on the rack.

‘This is for you my love,’ she said quietly, ‘I’m sorry we didn’t get to come to Sicily together. You would have loved it here.’

Julia walked out of the Cathedral into the sunshine. She put on her sunglasses and marched across the square and over to one of the cafes. She took a seat under the shade of an umbrella and caught the eye of the waiter who weaved his way between the tables towards her, carrying a jug of iced water and a menu.

‘
Buongiorno Signora,’

Julia ordered a glass of Sicilian lemonade and a bowl of seafood pasta which she enjoyed as she watched the world go by. Then she ordered a cappuccino and a
pistachio gelato and made plans for her future. When she had finished the ice-cream, she reached into her handbag and took out a notebook and pen and wrote a list of things she needed to do.

In no particular order of priority she needed to get a worthwhile job, spend more time with her boys, do something useful for them with the money she had inherited from Duncan and his mother, sort out her own health and appearance,
get back out into the world and stop being so miserable. Marianne had been right; Duncan would be horrified to see her like this.

Julia left the restaurant and decided to go back to the shops, only to find they were
closed for a long siesta. They were not due to reopen for another two hours so she wandered down to the beach and decided to do a spot of sunbathing, albeit, wearing jeans and a shirt.

When it was time for the shops to
reopen Julia headed back towards the town centre and found a shop that had an attractive dress in its window.  She went in for a browse, taking her time, looking for something Marianne would approve of. She found it tucked away in the back of the shop, a bold wraparound dress in pinks and purples. She tried it on and it fitted. It had a 1950’s feel to it, with its fitted bodice, tight waist and flared skirt that ended at her knees. She was reluctant to take it off.

She bought the dress, and then found a pair of black
skinny fit jeans in another shop, that fitted her more snugly than the ones she was wearing, and with a much more satisfying outline. She bought a red silk blouse to go with the jeans, a pair of stylish but comfortable gold sandals and a pair of red kitten heeled ankle boots. On a roll now, she turned her attention to handbags and found the perfect black and red leather bag in the same shop.

In another shop she found a skirt she liked,
two more tops and a silk jersey shift dress in powder blue.

Weighed down by carrier bags
, she discovered a branch of Sephora, and went inside hoping to find some make-up that might bring a more youthful bloom to her face. A young shop assistant, who spoke passable English, offered to try out some products on her and did a mini-makeover. The result was Julia looked rather more colourful than she normally would, but definitely an improvement. She bought most of the products the shop assistant had demonstrated on her, whilst forcing down the anxiety from spending over 100 euros on cosmetics.

She did a quick calculation in her head of how much she had spent so far and laughed
nervously to herself. She carried her bags outside and made her way back to the square and sat down on a bench. She sent a text to Marianne.

“
Just spent over 700 euros on clothes, shoes, makeup and a handbag I know you will try to steal from me!”

She held the phone in her hand expectantly, waiting for Marianne to reply, but Marianne must have been
busy as the phone remained silent.

‘Julia!’

She looked up and saw Tony striding towards her.

‘Hi there, I’ve been shopping!’

‘You don’t say,’ he replied, grinning at her. ‘I’m just going back home if you want a lift, or have you rented a car yet?’

‘I haven’
t got around to sorting that out yet, so I would love a lift thanks.’

Tony picked up some of the bags and c
heekily peeked inside the carrier bag carrying the handbag and shoes.

‘Nice! Glad to see you’re p
utting some money into our ailing economy.’

‘I spent a fortune!’ Julia said cheerfully.

‘Well, I’m sure you deserve it.’

‘I think I do actually.’

12

When Julia returned to her villa she tried on all of her new clothes again
, which looked even better on than they did in the shop. She posed in front of the mirror wearing the black jeans, red blouse and red boots. She held the new handbag in the crook of her arm in the manner favoured by supermodels on the cover of magazines. She smiled back at her reflection, unused to the sight of someone who looked shiny and glamorous staring back at her.

‘What do you think
, Duncan?’

She put the handbag down and walked over to the fridge and poured herself a glass of wine. She took it out onto the veranda and sat down to watch the evening sun sinking behind the mountains in the west.

She heard footsteps on the path and a moment later Tony appeared at the gate.

‘Julia? Sorry to disturb you, but I was just thinking about what you said in the car, about wishing you could have a go on a moped
, like that woman you saw.’ Julia gestured for Tony to open the gate and come into the garden. ‘I have a moped in the garage which I hardly ever use, but it works fine. Maybe you’d like to try it out. You could borrow it whenever you want,’ he continued.

‘Really, could I? I
would love to give it try. I’ve only ever ridden a motorbike off-road before, when my sons had trail bikes, but I’m sure I could manage a moped. Is it an automatic?’

‘Yes; it’s really eas
y to ride; just a twist and go kind of thing.’

Julia gestured to her glass of wine.

‘Well as you can see, it probably isn’t the best time to try it out now. But I would love to tomorrow, if that’s OK?’

Tony nodded.

‘Of course; just come over any time after 10. I’m not a morning person.’

‘Would you like a glass of wine?’ Julia said
, as she made a move to go inside.

‘Well yes OK
, that would be lovely thanks. Is that one of your new outfits? It looks jolly nice.’

‘It is. I’
ve been trying on all my new stuff; what a big kid, I just had to wear something right away.’

They sat down on Julia’s veranda with their wine and some dishes of olives and nuts Julia had put out on the table between them.

‘You seem really bright and cheerful today. It’s lovely to see. It’s funny because Maria told me she saw you this morning and
said you looked really sad.’

‘Hmm, not surprising, she caught me at a bad moment. I was in a very dark place this morning. But I
’ve realised I should be thinking about others too, like my sons; and I should start to do something positive. What use am I to them if I fall apart?’

‘That’s true. My children are what helped me to hold on to my sanity – and my career for that matter.’

‘I have to sort my job situation too. But that can wait until I get home. In the meantime I’m going to try and get my head together, rest and recuperate. Spend some time chilling out by the pool, read some books – maybe some of yours – and by the time Bryden and his girlfriend fly out, I will be a new woman.’

‘Sounds like a good plan;
although don’t feel you have to read my books. But I do have a complete set in the house.’

‘You mean you don’t have any lying around this place,’ Ju
lia replied, looking inside towards a little bookcase she hadn’t paid much attention to before.

‘No, that would be a bit crass wouldn’t it?’

‘I don’t think so. I had no idea when I booked this place it was owned by a famous writer. What a lovely surprise that turned out to be.’

Tony laughed.

‘I’m hardly famous. I could walk down any busy street in London and nobody would know who I am.’

‘Isn’t that the best kind of famous? People know your name, but not necessarily what you look like. I would hate to be mobbed by crowds every time I went anywhere, and have people trying to take photogr
aphs of me looking awful – like this morning in fact.’

‘That’s very true. But
you most certainly don’t look awful.’

‘I had some young lady give me a makeover. It’s probably a more suita
ble look for someone in their twenties going out clubbing, but it did make me feel a bit better.’

‘Ah yes. These young ones do tend to plaster on the makeup. My daughter is absolutely stunning, but she walks around looking like a hooker most of the time.’

Julia snorted with laughter. She stood up and went inside to get some more wine from the fridge and topped up their glasses before sitting down again.

‘I’ve been thinking about what you said about Shetland the other evening. It sounds really inspiring, so I’ve been doing a little bit of research
today. I might think about putting Shetland in my next novel. I know you don’t get much crime there, but it sounds like an unusual and interesting place for a crime novel.’

‘Hmm, I think you may find that
’s been done already. In fact there are a whole series of crime novels set in Shetland, which have even been serialised by the BBC.’

‘Really? Who by?’

‘Ann Cleeves.’

‘
Oh her! Damn that woman; she beat me to a crime writers’ award once. It shows you how out of the loop I’ve been; I hadn’t heard about that series.’

‘Why don’t you write a different kind of story then? Do you only ever write crime fiction?’

‘Well so far that’s all I’ve done. That’s what my publishers demand from me. But I have been thinking of doing something different.’

‘Well maybe you should take a trip to Shetland and see it for yourself
. But leave it until the summer; it’s not the best destination for a winter holiday. Not unless you’re there for Up Helly Aa.’

‘A
h yes, I read about that today; the Viking fire festival. That’s what got my interest actually. It looks amazing.’

‘It is
. My husband always took part in it, and he would have been in the Jarl Squad for the next Up Helly Aa. He’d been looking forward to it for years.’

‘The Jarl Squad? They’
re the ones that dress up in the Viking outfits?’

Julia nodded.

The following
morning Julia borrowed the moped and took it for a tentative run down to the town. She negotiated her way to a grocery on the edge of the town and stopped to buy some fresh bread. She didn’t feel confident enough to go exploring any further so she got back on the moped and rode back to the villa.

When she parked it on the driveway she got off, and stood beside it as she unfastened her helmet. The front door
of Tony’s villa opened and Tony came out.

‘How did you get on?’

‘It was great – I’m still alive!’

‘Well that usually indicates a successful missio
n. Keep the keys and the helmet; take it out whenever you want.’

‘That’s brilliant thanks.
I might try it again later; it was fun!’

Julia put the bread away in the cupboard and then got changed out of her jeans and jacket into a swimsuit and kaftan. She put on a wide brimmed hat and then selected the first of the series of books Tony had lent her and carried it out to the swimming pool and sat down on one of the loungers.

Julia read for a while, took a dip in the pool, dozed off in the sun and then woke up and picked up the book again. She carried on in this fashion for the rest of the day, stopping only to fetch a drink or a snack
or to apply more sunblock. When the sun started to set she realised for the first time in ages she felt entirely relaxed. The book had been a welcome distraction and it was all the more interesting to read when she knew the author was just a few metres away in his villa, working on his next book. She thought it would be spooky reading about murders and violent crime and wondered if it would change the way she viewed Tony; but it was the brief scenes of romance and passion she found the most uncomfortable. She thought she might blush the next time she saw him.

Julia spent the next couple of days ploughing her way through Tony’s novels. She di
dn’t normally enjoy crime stories, but now she was hooked. The time spent in the sun meant she was gradually losing her luminous pale complexion in favour of a more flattering golden sheen. Breaking up the sunbathing and reading by vigorous bursts of energy in the swimming pool, stopped her from feeling totally sluggish and as the end of her first week in Sicily approached, she realised she had somehow turned a corner. She looked better, slept better and felt better than she had done in months.

On Saturday evening she borrowe
d the moped and took a trip into the town and walked along the promenade. She wore her new jeans, a black cashmere cardigan and her red boots and she rather hoped she looked as glamorous as the woman she had seen on the scooter earlier in the week.

Julia sat down on the sea wall and watched a young couple walking along the shore with their arms wrapped so tigh
tly around each other she wondered how they managed to walk at all. They stopped to kiss and Julia turned away, although she doubted they cared about their privacy.

Her phone rang,
from the depths of her handbag and she reached in to retrieve it. She frowned with surprise when she saw it was Cameron.

‘Hello?’

‘Aye Aye; how’s Sicily?’

‘It’s lovely actually. I’
m sitting on the beach – without a coat on!’

‘Really, that good eh? You’d need a bloody survival suit on if you wanted to sit on the beach in Shetland tonight.’

Julia laughed. She watched the young couple walk away along the beach, and then turned her attention back to Cameron. ‘So how are you getting on?’

‘Fine;
great actually, thanks to you!’

‘Really, what have I done?’

‘That German architect you met the other day, Jürgen Hoffmann, well he emailed me this week about some project he wanted some advice with. We spoke yesterday, and he’s invited me over to Palermo to meet with him. I might end up with a great little project as a result of this.’

‘Wow! I had forgotten all about that. I meant to text you to say he might email you, but I didn’t know whether he was serious or not, or whether
it was just dinner-party talk.’

‘
He was definitely serious. Anyway, I wanted to let you know I’m flying over to Sicily tomorrow, as I’m meeting Jürgen on Monday.’

‘Tomorrow?’ Julia replied, sitting up straight and fussing with h
er hair.’

‘Yeah, you don’t mind do you? I mean
, we don’t have to meet up if you don’t want to, but I thought you might welcome a friendly face from Shetland.’

‘Of course. It would great to see you. Where are you staying? How long are you going to be here?’

‘I haven’t booked anywhere yet. I’ve only just sorted out the flights and my knowledge of Sicily is pretty poor. I don’t even know where you’re staying.’

‘I’m in Cefalu which is about an hour
or so, by train, from Palermo. Or probably less if you’re hiring a car. I haven’t bothered with a car yet, but I’m getting about on a scooter.’

‘A scooter? That’s very brave of you.’

‘Isn’t it just!’

‘
Well, I have to meet Jürgen on Monday morning, and I think we will be busy for most of the day, but other than that I’ll have some time to have a bit of a holiday. I’m flying back on Friday.’

Julia thought hard
about what to say a hotel. She had a spare room which he could have. But did she want him so close to her? Oh what the hell, it would be stupid for him to book a hotel.

‘I have a spare room in my villa. You could stay here. If you rent a car at the airport you could get back to Palermo e
asily for your meeting. Maybe I could even spend the day in the city and meet you later,’ she said, thinking it might be nice to have company when she visited the busy capital city of Sicily.

‘Really? Are you sure? That would be great.
’

They made arrangements to meet at the airport the next day.

Julia woke
early on Sunday morning. She hadn’t slept well as she had fretted about Cameron’s unexpected visit to Sicily. She put her swimsuit on and went for an early morning swim in the pool. She stretched out on her back in the water and stared up at the sky, listening to the birds singing in the olive trees. It was peaceful in this part of the garden. She could just see the top of Tony’s villa protruding above the hedges that lent privacy to the pool area.

She had just started to enjoy her self-imposed exile and wasn’t
sure she was ready to see anyone connected to her normal life. She shivered, although the water was still warm. Julia climbed out of the pool and made her way indoors and headed straight for the shower.

She dithered about what to wear. She wanted to wear
one of her new dresses, but wondered what signals it would send to Cameron. In the end she decided there was every possibility he wouldn’t even notice what she wore. He was just a friend after all. They had been friends since they were teenagers. That drunken kiss of three weeks ago was ancient history; a mistake he wouldn’t dare repeat.