‘I wanted some air.’
‘Ah.’
‘Although I did bring this with me, just in case.’ I lean forward and take my passport out of my back pocket.
‘Hah!’ she laughs. ‘Butneverkeep your passport in your back pocket – travel safety 101.’
‘I’ll keep that in mind for next time.’
‘Next time you have to evacuate a tiny island in the Bay of Naples because a volcano erupted?’
‘You’d be surprised how many times it’s happened before. This isn’t even the first time this year.’
‘Is that right?’ she asks, the smirk returning.
The same waiter from lunch sets my drink on the table and disappears – again, before I can thank him.
Delaney reaches for hers. ‘To Mount Fucking Etna,’ she says, drawing each word out.
‘To Mount Fucking Etna,’ I reply. I take a long pull, but it’s mostly Aperol and I use the straw to mix in the prosecco and soda water. ‘So, I take it you didn’t have any luck?’ I venture.
‘Oh, no, I’ve got a ticket on that boat right over there,’ she says, pointing to a derelict fishing boat. ‘Leaves in, oh’ – she checks her naked wrist – ‘a half-hour or so.’
‘Half an hour, or when the tide goes out and it goes with it?’
‘That,’ she replies with a pointed finger.
‘I’m sorry it didn’t work out, but I admire your determination.’
‘Thanks.’ She stares at me for a long moment then looks away. ‘By the way, I did talk to the harbour master.’
‘Really?’
‘Yeah. Nice guy –calm, considering. But then, he lives on Capri – with his husband and their Pomeranians, Luca and Lola.’
I start laughing. ‘Are you pulling my leg?’
She crosses her heart and holds up three fingers. ‘Scout’s honour. They live up there somewhere,’ she says, motioning behind us.
‘I’m impressed.’
I thought she’d have no chance getting anywhere near him at a time like this. Of course, I’d never say that. I’ve learned the hard way that women don’t want to be talked down to – who’d have thought?
Delaney shrugs again as if it’s no big deal.
‘The thing is, it’s not up to him,’ she continues. ‘All of the ferry captains live on the mainland – that’s why they’re hustling to leave, even though there’s no sign of…’ She looks to the sky and gestures.
‘Right, that makes sense. They don’t want to get stuck here.’
‘Exactly – perfectly happy to strandushere, but…’ She trails off and drinks her spritz through the straw, finishing it with a noisy gurgle. She lifts her head and signals for another round.
‘Oh, unless you don’t want another one?’ she asks.
‘I suppose we should take advantage while everything’s still open.’
‘That’s whatIwas thinking,’ she says, playfully slapping my bicep. This may not be her first spritz.
She shakes out her hand, her scowl deepening. ‘Ow. Like slapping a block of marble,’ she says softly to herself.