Ife slept in, absolutely wrecked with exhaustion. She and Hendrix stayed in the ice cream parlour until the small hours, and they talked about everything, making many apologies and catching up on old times. They returned to the flat at 3am, her family and friends already spread across the other three bedrooms in the house. They are spending Christmas with her here, it seems.
She didn’t get to bed until 5am after speaking to her brother on facetime, and their father. Making up for lost time. Sometime during that conversation it dawned on Ife that her parents had been victims of their circumstances, more so her father because he’d been hampered by the love he felt for his wife and heartbroken by the truth of her love. He couldn’t be there for her, in the way he should have been because he was also mourning the loss of a woman very much alive and around him every day of their lives together.
As for her mother… she made peace with the fact that she is no longer alive to face these consequences; that is now on Josephine. She hadn’t given the woman much thought there will be other days for that.
…
The smell of bacon wafts through the house to the bedroom where she’d fallen asleep with Hendrix, but he is not beside her this morning. She wraps the silk robe around her and makes her way out of the bedroom to the kitchen where voices, happy voices, carry on.
Hendrix, Tristan, and Arthur are working on seasoning a massive turkey someone had bought last night or this morning. Zainab, Astor and Zoya are busy chopping up veggies and the rest are working on different aspects of Christmas food.
‘Merry Christmas mummy.’ Zoya sing songs hugging her mother.
‘Merry Christmas sweetheart.’
Hugs and kisses are exchanged and, in the melee, hers and Hendrix eyes find each other. Home. He winks.
‘Why didn’t you wake me up?’
‘We figured you’d earned the rest after an exhausting day yesterday and your neighbour popped in with a supply of food enough for an army. Were you expecting more people.’
‘Shit. Yes, I invited a few people from the village to the palazzo for Christmas dinner.’
‘Palazzo?’ Tristan looked at his wife, soon to be ex-wife, and always will be good friend.
‘Ah.’ Ife sets down the cup of coffee that magically appeared in her hands, ‘I bought a palazzo. Signed the papers yesterday, I want to turn it into a museum and an artist’s retreat. It seemed unfair that Giuseppe and his family sell it off at a low-ball price, so I bought it at the market value, and I was hoping to host dinner there.’
‘Where is it? Rellie asks.’
About five minutes from here.’
‘We wanna see.’ Zoya says bubbling with excitement.
‘Of course. Grab a coat and put on a pair of my UGGs its freezing out there.’
The gang walks through the square to the palazzo and they immediately fall in love. The light sang in concert with the high ceilings and the big, beautiful windows. It has been recently cleaned so it smells very fresh. Parquet floors, and wood panels on the walls, divine chandeliers in perfect condition, grand doors that open to a piano room overlooking Tuscan hills, five salons, a grand kitchen, an even grander ballroom Ife envisioned to be a show space for new exhibitions. On the upper floors were bedrooms and studies and libraries. There was a foyer and a welcome reception too.
‘Mum, this place is beautiful.’ Astrid says, walking through her mouth ajar like the others.
‘Thank you.’
‘It really is.’ Hendrix says scanning the rooms, the others disappear to explore leaving the two of them alone in the ball room.
‘I’m thinking of something that will open in season, but also function as a retreat off season. I will scout art from underrepresented and forgotten artists and will stage the new exhibitions here the light can be controlled. The rest I’ll figure out.’
‘Where will we live?’ Hendrix asks the question on his mind, ‘I will go anywhere with you, my darling.’
‘We’ll float between The Hope and London and come here during the season, or when I need to be here. In this place where I was rekindled with love.’ She presses a kiss to his lips and he sways along with her into the kiss.
Oh my love.
…
Dinner is a lovely and noisy affair, several people from the village are in attendance. They set up a long table in the ballroom with sideboards that groaned under the weight of so much food, cooked by Hendrix, Tristan, the children and her best friends. On arrival, her guest were treated to a tour around the palazzo before sitting to the very splendid dinner of the very finest spread. Seeing Hendrix in conversation with Astor warmed Ife’s heart incredibly, there is so much of him in them, they may look like her, but they are much of him. Under the table, out of sight Zachary squeezes her hand. Her darling boy. She squeezes his back.
After dinner, during the dessert course, Papua Dinka taps his glass for attention to make a toast.
‘To Ife, a woman of love and courage and determination, I don’t know what brought you to this village, but we are sure glad you found your way here and into our hearts. Thank you for the miracle you have been in all our lives and for this splendid feast fit for the gods. As a token of thanks, I have amended my will and I bequeath you with my entire catalogue so that when your museum opens here in this palazzo they will have a home and will be in the hands of one who has loved them as much as I do and will continue to carry on my stories.
‘Oh.’ Hands fly to Ife’s mouth, touched by this gesture, and that he would trust her with his life’s work in such a way. She goes up to him and gives him a hug. ‘Thank you.’
‘No, thank you. Your thesis made me see my work in a new light, in a way I’d never thought to see them. Thank you.’ Papua is misty eyed.
‘Oh, thank you so much this means the world to me.’ She hugs him again before returning to her seat beside Hendrix, but she doesn’t sit down. ‘I would like to make a toast if I may,’ glasses are filled with champagne and wine. ‘To my family, Tristan you are a paragon among men, and I love you dearly. I wish you and Jacob every bit of happiness that you were denied but absolutely deserve. I love you both so much. To my best friends Jacob, Zainab and Rellie, truer, more wonderful friends do not come better than you, I will never forget what you did for me. You have my heart, always. To Hendrix my fiancé,’ here the table cheers loudly, he’d spoken to the children ahead of the proposal and asked their permission, ‘I’ve loved you all my life and then some. Thank you for your love and kindness, thank you for the days ahead and thank you for being you. And to my children without whom nothing will make sense, thank you for giving me the honour of being your mother and allowing me to share in the adventure of your life. Thank you for accepting me as I am and never holding my many flaws against me. I love you all so much, you are my greatest adventure. Always will be. And lastly, to new friends, who have become family here in this village, who fed me when I had no idea what I was doing with pasta, (laughs), who gave me a sense of adventure in taste and love and kindliness and goodness, I will forever hold you close in my heart. My home is yours always. Thank you.’
They all clinked glasses and toast to each other.
Wise men say,
Only fool rush in,
But I can’t help,
Falling in love with you…
Hendrix turns to her, and she takes his hand without needing to be asked. He twirls her onto the floor, as the song, their last dance together became their first in the new life. To new beginnings.
‘I love you.’