5
FERN
Fern’s eyes widened at the sight of Capri looming green and rocky. Predominately white buildings studded the steep hillside that rose from where the hydrofoil had docked.
Amber and Chloe were walking ahead, dragging their suitcases along the marina. Fern paused and turned back to wait for Stella to catch up. Beyond the stream of the other tourists disembarking, the sea glistened all the way to the flat plain of Naples and the volcano which dominated the horizon.
Fern caught sight of Edith and smiled.
‘I hope you have the most wonderful time,’ Edith said, slowing as she reached her. ‘Remember my offer. Arrivederci.’ And she was off towards Marina Grande with a wave.
Stella finally caught up with Fern. ‘Who was that you were talking to?’
‘A really lovely lady. She was supposed to be coming here with a friend but has ended up on her own. She was inviting me on the artist retreat she’s going to.’
Stella laughed. ‘And I was imagining we’d get propositioned by some sexy young Italians, while you manage to attract the attention of an old lady.’
Fern shook her head. ‘She was just being nice and chatty. She seemed quite lonely.’
Stella walked on, leading them to where a porter holding a handwritten sign with her name on it was waiting to take their luggage on ahead to the villa.
There’d been constant chatter throughout the journey from Amber and Chloe, but there was silence as, relieved of their suitcases, they took an open-top taxi away from the glittering sea up the narrow winding road past walled villa gardens spilling over with bright pink bougainvillea. It was quite something to see the girls entranced by the island.
After being dropped off not far from the main piazzetta at the top of the hill, they walked the rest of the way along a road with breath-taking views on one side and gated villas hidden by trees on the other. It was the peace that Fern noticed the most, particularly after the craziness of Naples. She had expected a vibrant bustling island filled with wealth in its shops, cafes and bars, yet away from the piazzetta with its crowds of summery-looking people, she could only hear birds singing in the trees. The drone of a helicopter reminded her she was on an island of the rich and famous. She glanced up at the helicopter; just a dot against the clear cyan sky.
Stella seemed to know exactly where she was going, proudly announcing, ‘This is it,’ when they reached an entrance with Villa Giardino etched into a plaque in the centre of double gates.
The villa itself was hidden by a forest of cypress, oak and olive trees. Glimpses of honey-coloured stone emerged from among the Mediterranean foliage. Fern had done her research on the island, but Stella had kept where they were staying a surprise. It was even better than she’d anticipated.
A paved path meandered through the garden. It was late in the afternoon and the constant chirrup of cicadas kept them company. Fern walked behind the others, soaking up the gentle heat, the glossy leaves, the flash of orange from a fluttering butterfly and the sweet scent of flowers, which all had an immediate calming effect. This was absolutely the break she needed.
Set beneath a pillared porch, the front door was large, wooden and grand. The door swung open and they were greeted by a smiling Italian woman looking smart in black trousers and a cream blouse with her dark hair neatly tied back.
‘Benvenute! I’m Violetta. Welcome to Villa Giardino.’ Violetta had a light accent and a welcoming smile as she ushered them inside. ‘I’m the housekeeper and will be looking after you during your stay.’
They followed her into a large bright entrance hall with an ornate staircase that curved up to the first floor. Sunlight flooded through the skylights, the double height making the entrance hall impressively grand.
‘You must be tired from travelling.’ Violetta offered them each an ice-cold flannel for their hot faces and hands, which was as deliciously cool and lemon-fresh as the home-made lemonade she handed them as they returned the flannels.
‘Your luggage has already arrived and been taken to your rooms. Would you like me to show you around or are you happy to explore on your own?’
Clutching their drinks, Amber and Chloe were already poking their heads into the rooms off the hallway.
‘I think exploring on our own will be fine,’ Stella said.
Violetta nodded. ‘I’ll give you some time. How about drinks on the terrace in an hour?’
‘Sounds perfect.’
She nodded her approval and left them.
Stella turned to Chloe and Amber. ‘To stop any arguments, I’ve already decided who’s having which bedroom. You two are upstairs, Chloe in The Silver Room and Amber you have The Gold Room. Fern and I are on the ground floor.’
The girls were already off, taking the stairs two at a time.
Fern and Stella finished their drinks and explored the spacious ground floor. Stella had refused to say how much she was paying for the place, but it was majestic and Fern could imagine how expensive it was. It was a traditional seventeenth-century villa with ornate tiled floors and antique furniture, combined with modern touches in the widescreen TV in the large and bright living room and the all-important air con and Wi-Fi.
The inside and outside flowed together beautifully, with large French windows allowing light to flood in, while patio doors opened onto the landscaped gardens. Shafts of sunlight streaked in, so different to the grey and humid day they’d left behind.