Where Are You Read online

  Where Are You

  Bella Donnis

  Contents

  Copyright

  Sign Up Page

  Dedication

  Poem

  Part 1

  1. Fate

  2. Forlorn

  3. Memories

  4. Melancholy

  5. Surprise

  6. Becoming

  7. Decision

  8. Action

  9. Summer Holiday

  Part 2

  10. Welcome To The Madhouse

  11. Gianna

  12. Today

  13. Onwards

  14. Pompeii

  15. Back To Napoli

  16. Parco Virgiliano

  17. Vespa

  18. Between

  19. Withdraw

  Part 3

  20. Vallensbaek Strand

  21. Happy Birthday

  Epilogue

  Also By Bella Donnis

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  Copyright Information Page

  Copyright © 2014 Bella Donnis. All rights reserved worldwide.

  No part of this publication may be replicated, redistributed, or given away in any form without the prior written consent of the author/publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance the characters may have to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Bella Donnis

  UK

  Warning: This book contains graphic language and sexual content.

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  For Pamela

  That I would meet a genuine Napoletana while writing this book, set in Napoli, can only have been fate. Thanks for your help and input.

  Poem

  You entered my life when I needed a friend,

  Bright eyes meeting mine from through the crowd.

  I didn’t know then you would change my whole life,

  In only a year we had, more anyone else allowed.

  You entered my life and showed me new ways,

  My perfect companion, you breathed me new life.

  The things we did, the memories we made,

  Just so much promise and future so bright.

  You entered my life when I needed you most,

  Over my own heart, the power you held.

  But like all good things, they must one day come end,

  Then one day you left me, you felt compelled.

  You entered my life and tore out my soul,

  So now I write this as a final farewell.

  Will I ever love again, bright eyes through the crowd,

  Will I ever be whole, can I break your spell.

  Part One

  Cambridge

  Chapter One

  Fate

  And still, approaching two days after the poem fell to the floor from inside an old book, Erin convalesced in bed, her aching heart she hoped would not take so long as it had ten years before. That was when she wrote the poem. Perhaps even ten years to the day, the universe did often play such tricks. When fate intervened, at least so much as to force one’s mind to think again; from there it was up to the individual to act, or not.

  Ok, so she was no poet. Erin knew that. But those words had poured from her soul at a time she felt most hopeless.

  She had merely taken the opportunity during a rare couple of days off work to sort through her old text books, promote some to the living room book shelf and confine others to the rubbish.

  And then the damn thing fell out, fluttering through the air with ceremony. She knew what it was before it even landed, though she’d put it to the back of her mind, like the books that gathered dust.

  She plucked it from the floor, the masochist within her winning out over the sane Erin she’d nurtured since writing it. The poem had been a way of saying goodbye, to finally put to rest the demon that was the damn Italian – Trouble in its purest svelte brunette form.

  Why she read it she couldn’t answer. Though reading it twice was pure madness and so she settled on just that – She was mad, or had been madly in love. At the very least she was a masochist. And somewhere was stashed a box full of their old stuff. Soon she’d feel compelled to find that box, like how an addict would always return to what would ultimately destroy him.

  But God it ached. And so, two days after, she still remained in bed, curled up, dark patches on the pillow where tears soaked cotton.

  Life was not fair, but what had happened to Erin ten years before had wrenched her very soul from within. The mind found a way of coping and the poem was a part of that. But since then she’d put the memories of Gianna, as much as possible out of her mind. She had to survive after all.

  But now they flooded back and as a consequence of switching off her phone, not honouring invitations and of seemingly disappearing from the face of the earth; ferocious knocking now resounded on the front door.

  Not a lot affected Erin these days, the composed girl she’d become, much thanks to her. But, as she had so recently discovered, the damn Italian still held power over her, even though she was not here. And even though she’d not heard from Gianna in probably ten years to the day.

  She dreaded opening the door to the Anatomy Building of Downing College. This was the University of Cambridge, after all, and once she walked through the entrance to the inside then the next three years will have officially begun; she would be a student, she’d be on her own.

  The door drew nearer and Erin took smaller steps, giving herself a few extra seconds to gain composure.

  She’d only arrived in Cambridge over the weekend, the memory of her parents waving as they drove back down the cobbles made her long for their embrace. Had this been one huge mistake? Who was she to leave home, to try and make her way in the world at such a young age? She’d yet to even hold a part-time job, take a holiday abroad or even date a boy for longer than a couple of weeks. Indeed, there’d been times the crippling social anxiety disorder had prevented her merely visiting the local shops. Big progress she’d made since those days, in thanks part to the cognitive behavioural therapy, but now, this, Cambridge was the next level.

  Now, as she approached the door, a lump grew in her throat and her breathing came in short, sharp spurts. As she walked inside, her hand almost slid from the handle, the prominent oak door creaking with age. She slipped her hands inside her pockets and dried them on the already damp tissues.

  Erin had the usual intention of arriving early. That was one way of coping to avoid being the new face entering a room when all heads would naturally turn to stare. Only on this day, with the first day of Cambridge looming over her, Erin’s steps had been too small. And evidently everybody else had the same idea – To arrive early on this first day.

  Time stopped as countless heads turned to look at the girl who stood alone by the entrance. The male stares lingered longer than their female counterparts’, before turning back to continue conversations. It was amazing how the other students were already engaged in such casual talk. It was as though they were already acquainted. Surely these people hadn’t just met each other. Was Erin really the only person who struggled in social settings? Making friends was never as easy as that. What was Erin supposed to do? - Simply approach one of the large groups and start talking to people at random.

  She shuffled forward, scrutinising the floor as she did. People’s feet shifted aside, or was it her imagination? And then she found herself stood in an open space among several clusters of students.

  It
was a large anti-room which connected two lecture theatres at either side. The sculptured wood panelled walls gave the air of prestige along with the artfully painted ceiling. Erin tried to make out small details in the artwork above her, anything to distract her mind. Two horses pulled along a vicar on a carriage. Was it really a vicar? Dogs ran out of the way lest they get trampled by hooves. What kind of dog was that; a terrier of some sort?

  By God it was painful. She’d been told that people weren’t really watching her, judging her, that it was all in her imagination. And even if they did look, study and judge then so what? Get over it! But it was never as easy as that.

  The heat rose to some unbearable temperature and sweat pricked her forehead, her scalp itching, giving the urge to scratch, but what would people think if she did that. Erin felt the overwhelming need to run and never look back. She had to get out and quick, to breathe cool air, to cry, to return home to her parents. She hitched her backpack higher on one shoulder; half in an attempt to occupy herself for at least a second, half because Erin was now seriously contemplating flight mode.

  Did the girl with the black hair in a ponytail look at her and then say something to her friend? How much longer would this unpleasantness continue? When would the lecture theatre open so she could sit and occupy herself, when the attention would be on a professor and not herself?

  At the other end of the anti-room the large door swung open as heads turned instinctively to view the periphery movement. Erin couldn’t see the new arrival for the numerous circles of students blocking the view, but she was more than happy for the few seconds respite regardless. Then the heads turned back to recommence engaging with new found friends as the door slammed to an almighty close, prompting them to jolt back once again toward the noisy newcomer.

  Erin chuckled to herself. Had this new person become lost and entered from the cloister? How silly. Anyway, whoever it was would have by now doubtless initiated a conversation with new friends, and good luck to them.

  Erin turned her feet toward the exit, but checked the movement as a girl meandered her way through the gathering of students.

  She was tall and slender, with dark features befitting a typical southern European. Spain, Italy, Greece perhaps? Certainly, it was that she was overdressed in a thick brown winter jacket that gave it away more than anything else, given it was still September. Long brown hair flowed over her shoulders which sprang to life as her head moved between the students, vainly anticipating a path through the mass, to where, only she knew. She held her head high and clattered between two tall male students, her large backpack clobbering them unapologetically as she did, just as she’d struck those before them.

  It wasn’t that the girl was confident, whoever she was; it was more that she just didn’t give a shit. She gave not a second thought to startling people, making a big entrance and then barging a path through those who stood in her way. It was like she had a place to be and was heading there no matter what. To live life with such an attitude, Erin could not relate to, and she watched the girl with a rare fascination.

  She stopped in the opening close to Erin, who took an instinctive step back. Getting shoved aside by the girl’s bag would only serve to increase Erin’s level of anxiety.

  And then the girl looked straight at Erin who, having made eye contact, surprised herself by not looking away. Usually when strangers locked eyes with her from across a room, Erin would always look away. Perhaps it was out of curiosity or maybe it was due to some other desire she didn’t yet know, but for whatever reason, Erin held her gaze.

  But then Erin’s instincts kicked in, screaming at her to look down to the comfort of the floor when the girl gave a sudden and comforting smile, bright eyed while flashing a perfect set of white teeth. Two small dimples appeared on her cheeks, which would have made her extremely approachable, for most people.

  Oh God, but she was coming over. The prior urge for flight intensified, but Erin found herself fixed to the spot.

  “Anatomy Building?” The girl asked.

  “Um, where?”

  “This is the Anatomy Building isn’t it? Please say it is. I can’t face walking into another wrong lecture.” The girl’s accent was thick and Erin feared being thought stupid if she failed to decipher it.

  “Um, I understood some of that, but could you talk a little slower please?”

  “Is this the – Anatomy – Building – of Cambridge University?” The strange girl rolled her r’s, but spoke slower the second time and Erin now understood, but still feared coming over as slow or stupid. Was there a hint of sarcasm in the unduly strung out question or did Erin imagine it?

  “Yes. This is the Anatomy Building.” Erin had scoped out the building the previous night during a dry run.

  “Thank God.” The girl’s forehead perspired. She’d benefit from taking off the jacket; it was way too hot inside as it was. She looked about the room, but seemed content to remain where she stood.

  Erin knew the right thing to do would be to make small talk, ask the usual questions, fill the silence which now stretched on and on, but she didn’t want to risk coming over as boring. What would the girl think of that?

  “You’re a quiet one aren’t you?” The girl made it sound halfway between a question and a statement and Erin wasn’t sure if she was supposed to answer it.

  “Always, yes.” Now her big secret was out of the way, maybe the girl would go easy on her and Erin could retreat back to the realms of comfort that was silence and loneliness. Shyness really was a prison sentence, though largely a self-imposed one.

  “Wow, you really are, aren’t you.” The girl took a step closer. “Well, I don’t bite.” She held out a hand. “My name’s Gianna.”

  Erin took her hand and shook it, noting the cold feel of her flesh, doubtless still acclimatising to the English weather. “I’m Erin.”

  “Erin…hmm.” She bounced once on her toes. “Just let me know if you struggle to understand me, ok. Even my friends back home can’t understand me most of the time.”

  Erin assumed that to be a joke, so she laughed out of politeness. Just where home was exactly, Erin thought to ask, but again, what would the girl think to such a mundane question?

  “So where are you from?” Gianna asked.

  “Oh, not far away.”

  “Where?”

  “Oh, a town called Alnwick, up in the north.”

  Gianna paused, as though expecting more. “And now you return the question to me.”

  Erin’s face flushed. She wasn’t being rude, but she just couldn’t understand why the girl was still talking to her when there was a roomful of people a lot more like her – People who could string a sentence together and engage with others. “I’m sorry, Gianna…Where are you from?”

  “That’s ok, I can relate to your problem by the way. My older brother, Marco, barely speaks to anyone. But please, call me Gia. Gianna takes too long to say. Gia means already in Italian, which I can assure you I most certainly am not.” Gia grinned and gave Erin a reassuring rub of the arm, which she felt comforted by.

  “Ok, I will do.” Erin paused, waiting for the answer, and when it didn’t come, she chuckled.

  “Hey, what?”

  “You didn’t answer the question.”

  “Hah, so you’re not so shy all of a sudden. Looks like I had you all wrong.” She grinned, flashing those bright eyes again. “I’m from Napoli, as you English call Naples.”

  “I’ve never heard of it.”

  “Really? I should be offended. It’s in southern Italy, but we pretty much consider ourselves an independent nation.”

  “Why?”

  “You’d know if you went.” As if that was explanation enough.

  Gia looked pretty much like the stereotypically attractive Italian girl. Her features were sharp, almost hawkish, with a look that warned against arguing with her. Yet her demeanour masked that look. It was almost contradictory. It was as though she was intimidating from afar, but the exact opposite onc
e you were engaged in conversation. Erin found herself almost relaxing for the first time since stepping inside the building and it was all thanks to Gia. But she knew the girl would soon tire of her and find some real people to talk to. Exotic women did not seek out the awkward mute type as a friend, but instead gravitated toward people more like themselves.

  “I have to check though, because I see four theatres…” Gia scanned the room. “I assume not everyone here is enrolled in the same course.” As she spoke, a group of students began filing into one of the theatres.

  Erin’s heart jumped. She’d assumed everybody was doing the same course, but as it turned out, this was simply the atrium for the four lecture theatres and likely four different courses. Would Gia be entering a different theatre?

  “Well, I’m doing Physiotherapy. How about you?” Erin asked, hoping this friendly girl would be joining her.

  “Same.” She straightened in delight. “Looks like I’ve made my first friend.”

  “Really?” Oh, that sounded lame.

  “Of course. But then it was lucky the first person I spoke to happened to be on my course.”

  A man who Erin recognised from her entrance interview as Professor Andy Atkins now stood by the theatre door, beckoning the students inside.

  Gia led the way into the impressive theatre and Erin made sure to sit next to her.

  Finally, she could relax. Erin had made a friend.

  Chapter Two

  Forlorn

  “Erin, what the hell?” Ben half barged his way past as she opened the door in her dressing gown. “There’d better be a good explanation for this.”