The Summer Villa

Kim loved Antonio’s honesty, but sometimes she hated his candour.

‘I need to work hard, you know that,’ she answered. ‘Lots of people relying on me – there are publicity engagements, photoshoots, interviews, you know the drill. Especially over the last eighteen months,’ Kim continued, referring to Villa Dolce Vita. ‘This new venture is the culmination of everything we’ve worked for, Antonio, the showcase for the brand. Obviously it’s taken a huge amount of my time and effort. If we want Villa Dolce Vita to be all it can be, then I need to put in the necessary care and attention.’

‘But what about your family? Doesn’t it also deserve your care and attention?’

His words were a jolt to her system and she didn’t know how to answer. Kim supposed she’d never thought of it in those terms. She scoffed internally. The Sweet Life was all about mindfulness and finding balance in all things, yet she knew that, ironically, her own life once again was heavily off-kilter.

‘Bella? Where did you go?’

Kim snapped back to reality as they pulled up close to the trattoria. ‘Sorry, what?’

Antonio laughed. ‘I said that I think there is a lot more going on than what you are telling me. Let’s talk about it properly over lunch.’

But where to even begin? Kim wasn’t sure she had the words to express the turmoil in her brain as she took a seat across from her mentor and friend inside the charming cliffside restaurant.

How could she confide in Antonio everything that was going on in her life just now, let alone the sense of dread she felt deep down?

To say nothing of the ugly truth that Kim was turning out to be a terrible mother. Just like her own.

Gloria had never cared about Kim. Never considered her daughter or what she wanted. The only thing her mother ever desired was her own ends. It didn’t matter how they came, as long as she got them.

Kim realised a long time ago that she had been just another one of her mother’s devices. Her father had wanted a child to carry on the Weston legacy. They’d hoped for a son but Kim was it, and her mother had lived with that as best she could. She made sure she had nannies and the housekeeper to tend to Kim’s every scrape and need, while she jetsetted across the world. Success was all she cared about.

Kim never experienced what it was like to have a mother’s love. And now it seemed she lacked the skills and knowledge to give it to her own flesh and blood. While she, too, relentlessly pursued success.

‘Bella?’ Antonio pressed when the waiter had poured the wine.

‘It’s just … most of the time I don’t know what I’m doing,’ she admitted to Antonio, as tears filled her eyes. ‘With Lily, I mean.’

His comforting gaze lingered on her momentarily before he focused on the glittering water. ‘Emilia and I were married for about five years when I began to question it – the marriage, I mean.’

The confession came as a huge surprise. Kim could never have imagined that Antonio, the man whose love for his wife she thought unmatched, could ever have thought he’d made a mistake.

She didn’t for one second regret marrying Gabriel; she adored him and almost from the moment they met knew he was her soulmate. But she was just as certain she was never cut out to be a mother, and when Lily arrived, her worst fears were realised.

Every day of her daughter’s three-year-old life, she’d felt like a failure at it. And the worse she felt, the more she threw herself into her work, leaving her husband to care for their daughter pretty much alone while she built The Sweet Life into an international brand.

He never complained, never even seemed to notice that Kim was spending less and less time at home as the business grew. He’d been there from the start, so knew that this was her passion, and the reason she was pushing so hard to make this new venture a success.

But neither her husband or Antonio knew that The Sweet Life had actually been built on lie.

And Kim was terrified of being uncovered as a fraud.

Chapter 6 (#ulink_e5c0297e-10af-5c78-b06a-71ba2777ab3c)

Now

Colette Hargreaves yawned as she rolled over in bed.

The blinds were open and it was gone 7 a.m. She turned over, her copper hair falling across her shoulders as she looked around the bedroom.

Outwardly, everything was in its place, but she sensed something was missing.

‘Ed?’

Silence answered her call and Colette swung her feet from beneath the sheets and onto the lush new carpeting they’d had laid during the most recent renovation of their London townhouse. Her husband was fond of hardwood, whereas she preferred carpet, so they’d made a compromise. Carpet in the bedroom and hardwood everywhere else.

She pulled a robe over her silk nightgown and tied a loose knot at her waist as she slipped her feet into her slippers and headed for the door.

Their house was such a far cry from the tiny cottage she’d lived in growing up. Colette had left Brighton behind five years ago when she’d been offered a translator position at the Home Office.

A little while before that, Ed had asked her to marry him, and suddenly Colette was a Londoner with a comfortable house near Hyde Park.

Three bedrooms, living/dining area, a kitchen and outdoor terrace, and yet the house felt so empty. She walked into the living room and turned on the television before going into the kitchen to start breakfast.

She had just plated some eggs and bacon when Ed walked in, dripping with sweat, his sandy hair now dark against his forehead.

‘Good morning, darling,’ he greeted, walking over and kissing her cheek. He pulled open the fridge and grabbed a bottle of his post-run shake.

Her husband was very concerned with his health, jogged seven days a week, and drank pre- and post-workout elixirs comprised of things Colette didn’t want to think too much about.

‘How was your run?’ she asked as she set his plate on the white granite worktop. Her sister Noelle often joked that the brightest thing in the entire house was Colette’s hair.

Ed’s mother Laura had ‘helped’ with the decorating (an understatement) and had declared bright colours gaudy and unsophisticated.

Colette hadn’t wanted to argue. She was in a different world here, where the rules were set but often not shared, and one small misstep could have negative social or professional consequences.

The older woman also cautioned that people would look to topple Colette because of Ed’s profile within the London business world and that there would be several who would love nothing more than to see their relationship ruined.

Laura’s intentions weren’t malicious, Colette knew, but a heartfelt warning. Ed’s mother was much like her, in a way. She’d come from a simpler life and had been propelled into this world by her own marriage. It had ended badly for many of the same reasons she now cautioned Colette about.

She’d left Ed’s dad a few years later and made a place for herself on her own terms. She wanted Colette to do the same, without the broken marriage.

‘It was good. I ran into Carter and Freddy in the park,’ Ed informed her as he continued to drink the contents of his bottle. ‘They said they had some news about that IPO I’ve been tracking.’

When they first met, her husband was a lowly portfolio manager’s assistant for a small investment firm in London. Now, he was the personal fund manager for seven- and eight-figure families, who paid him more than handsomely to manage their investments.

He’d gone from a tiny fish in a small pond to a great white in a lake of other investment managers just like him.

‘And speaking of news – according to Mother there’s another grandchild on the way.’ Ed’s tone was casual but Colette noticed he wouldn’t meet her gaze.

She was glad of it, because she knew there was no way she would have been able to hide her reaction. ‘Oh. Sarah’s pregnant again?’ She wasn’t entirely sure how she’d even got the words out, the lump of disappointment in her throat was so huge. Or was it envy?

Colette wasn’t sure how to describe the visceral, almost primal disappointment you experienced when someone else managed to achieve the very thing you wanted.

Five years of marriage and countless attempts, and still she and Ed had yet to conceive. There had been occasions when she thought she might be pregnant, but each time proved to be dodgy hormones or a faulty pregnancy test.

Ed was great about it, always encouraging, but she knew he was as disappointed as she was.