One Winter Weekend

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

“ C aroline!” Molly darted excitedly towards her best friend, her trainers nearly bouncing off the tiled floors of Rome’s Da Vinci Airport.

Yes it had been a couple of months since they had last seen each other, as Caroline now lived in Cork, but by Molly’s reaction, one would think it had been years.

Caroline Davison giggled and bounded in the opposite direction and the two embraced forcefully, their collective weight tilting to and fro from their exuberance, eventually causing them to almost fall over in a fit of laughing and hugs.

“Oh my God, Molly, you’re getting married !” Caroline exclaimed, her green eyes sparkling and dark curls bouncing, as she helped her friend to her feet.

“Wait - I’m doing what?” Molly teased, a wicked smile filling her face.

“Grand. Well, we’re here now, so to hell with Ben, let’s find you a nice Italian Romeo!”

The two laughed hysterically as Molly’s parents joined them near the baggage claim.

Helen’s arms stretched out towards Caroline, embracing her in a familiar, gentle hug. Caroline gave both O’Briens a kiss on the cheek, wishing them a Happy Christmas.

“How was the flight from Dublin?” she asked.

“The flight was fine,” Helen replied. “It’s everything since that…”

“ Mum, ” Molly scolded.

“All your mother is saying,” Paddy picked up, “is that maybe the natives could be a bit more helpful.”

“Dad,” she groaned, “Italians aren’t required to speak English, you know.”

“No,” Paddy agreed, “but when you go to an airport cafe and order a cup of tea, they should at least have some idea what you mean.”

“Relax, Mr O’Brien. It’s nearly Christmas...though you wouldn’t know it here,” Caroline said, casting a dubious glance around the airport.

Unlike Cork airport from which she’d flown earlier this morning, she was surprised to find that the festive decor in Italy seemed lacking. While airports back home were usually all holly and ivy and Christmas trees, here, everything seemed a bit more subdued.

Only a few strands of fairy lights and some signs reading Chiuso per Natale (“Closed for Christmas”) let travellers know that any sort of holiday was imminent.

But perhaps the Italians didn't make such a big deal of it? As it was Caroline’s first time in the country and she knew very little about the place, she couldn't be sure.

But no doubt she would soon find out. In any case, her best friend adored the city and was looking forward to not only her wedding, but also showing everyone around.

Molly was about to speak again when a pair of hands covered her eyes and a familiar voice whispered in her ear.

“Guess who?” She grabbed the hands, turned around, and found herself face-to-face with her fiancé. She held Ben’s face in her hands, stood on her tiptoes, and kissed him.

“Here comes the groom,” Caroline laughed, as Ben then bent over to kiss her cheek.

“Great to see you, Car,” he said. “How’s life in Cork?”

“Fine as ever, Ben, how are you?”

He opened his mouth to reply, but as he did, came the sound of someone complaining on approach “...and I swear to you, James, if there is no butler service, I won’t stay. I simply won’t!”

“And I wouldn’t hear of it, darling,” Ben’s father replied. He searched the crowd, finally finding his son in the mix of faces. “There you are. We’ve been looking for you. We have a driver waiting.”

Molly shook hands awkwardly with both Patricia and James Pembrey. She’d met his parents a couple of times over the years, and was well used to their snooty behaviour.

At first, she wasn’t sure what to make of them, especially considering Ben was as humble and down-to-earth as they came. Fortunately because they lived in the UK, she and Ben didn’t have much to do with them.

“And you remember my parents, Paddy and Helen?” Molly said quickly, while the rest of the wedding party exchanged muted greetings.

Both sets of parents had met briefly after the engagement, but as her working class parents had little in common with English nobility, it had been somewhat … strained.

Caroline watched the whole scene unfold as she waited at carousel belt. After a few more beats of awkward quiet amongst the families, she cleared her throat.

Molly looked to her confusedly, then added, “Oh of course! And Caroline, my best friend and bridesmaid.”

Caroline smiled and approached the Pembreys. “Hello there,” she greeted, beaming.

She got little in response. Instead the Pembreys, the O’Briens, and Caroline all stood there in complete silence as the conveyer belt clanked and clattered around.

“So,” she said, attempting to break the ice, “who’s ready for some wine tasting?”

“As long as it’s not one of those so-called ‘Super Tuscans,’” Patricia groused. “Never had a more overrated wine in my life.”

The awkward silence resumed. Caroline smiled tightly and stared down at her feet until she was tapped on the shoulder by a small man with a wiry moustache.

“Scusi?” he said in a heavily accented voice, “You are Miss Davison, yes?”

She nodded. “I am. Can I help you?”

“Can you come with me, please?”

She followed him, perplexed.

“Signorina,” the man said once they were away from the crowd, “I am afraid I have some bad news.”

“What do you mean, ‘bad news?’” she repeated, frowning.

“Your package,” he said.

She was puzzled. “My… package?”

“No, scusi, that is not the right word,” he apologised. “Sorry, my English, it is not so good. I mean, luggage . Your luggage – it did not arrive.”