Page 9 of The Great Italian Holiday Mix-up

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‘Well, that’s bollocks – a hotline should be twenty-four hours. Wait – itisoffice hours,’ I say, confirming with a glance at my watch.

‘Not in Sydney – it’s the middle of the night there,’ she replies matter-of-factly.

I heave out a weary sigh. ‘Ofcourse, they’re based in Sydney. This just gets better and better.’

‘Yeah,’ she sighs.

‘Anyway, I suppose I should?—’

I’m interrupted by her ringtone, and she leaps up and goes out to the balcony to take the call. I was about to head to reception to sort a room for the night, but I’ll wait.

Taking her spot on the sofa, I send Pippa a text telling her that True North’s ‘helpline’ doesn’t open for another nine hours.

Her reply comes straight away – a crying-face emoji – and I reply with a hug emoji. Pip’s not great in a crisis and, in her mind, this will count.

I sit back against the sofa and look outside. Delaney is walking back and forth along the railing. Notpacing– her stride is more composed than that. Ambling perhaps. As I observe her, my mind starts to wander.

EXT. HOTEL BALCONY – CAPRI – AFTERNOON

Delaney ambles along the balcony railing, twirling a lock of her hair, mobile phone pressed to her ear.

DELANEY

Hey, babe. So, I hear you might be in Reykjavik?

Yeah, well, I’m on Capri.

Yep,thatCapri.

She listens, then frowns.

DELANEY

Yeah, he’s here.

No, I’ll talk to them. I was waiting to hear from you first.

I know you did, but the reviews were good. This is just a fluke, Nicholas – we’ll get it figured ou?—

Okay. So, what about your room?

Pippa – her name’s Pippa.

Oh, that’s good.

Yeah, okay – notgood, exactly…

At least you guys get your own rooms.

No, they’re fully booked.

We haven’t figured that out yet.

I promise, I’ll call them as soon as their office opens. Okay. Talk to you later. I lo?—

She lowers the phone, frowns at it, and goes inside.

I snap out of screenwriter mode as Delaney comes through the doorway and gives me a wry smile.