‘Yes. A 100 per cent yes! And thank you,’ she said, with far more conviction than she actually felt inside, but the thought of going to Italy for six days was just too wonderful an opportunity to miss out on. When else might she get the chance? And her mother was only going to get older and more dependent, and so this could very well be a chance of a lifetime, certainly for Grace during Cora’s lifetime. And, in all honesty, Grace had been feeling for a while now that enough was enough. Bernie had been on the phone again last night complaining because Cora had called her ‘in a right state’, saying that Grace was ‘threatening to leave me all on my own just so she can have a dirty weekend with that poor man of hers’. So Grace had had it up to here with being the family doormat, taking care of their mother single-handedly, and had told Bernie so. She had no idea how Jamie had managed to persuade Cora, though he had always had a knack of appeasing her, but what Grace did know was that she would be eternally grateful to him.

It was time.

Time for Grace to move on.

Time for Grace to take back a bit of life for herself.

And time for her to stop punishing herself for feeling that she was to blame for what Matthew did. That he slept with another woman in their bed because Grace wasn’t enough. Not sexy enough. Not perky enough. Or interesting enough. Funny. Cute. Or clever enough. No, he chose to cheat on Grace, shatter her love for him in the worst way possible. And that was wholly down to him. Some time away would give Grace the chance to properly clear her head and cement her new view of her life. So she was going to call her counsellor and talk through some practical strategies for the trip and then focus on packing her suitcase and feeling excited … because Grace Quinn was enough.

And she was going to have new knickers.

And she was going to Italy.

Fantastico! As they say in Italian …

Chapter 12

Two weeks later, and Grace could barely believe her own eyes. The view before her as she stepped out of the aeroplane in Italy was breathtaking. On the horizon, rising majestically over the rooftop of the airport, were lush green hills dotted with traditional white brick houses nestling amongst cypress trees and olive groves. The warmth from the dazzling morning sun as it drenched the bare skin on her arms was like a balm for her soul, instantly uplifting and lightening her mood as she near glided down the staircase and onto the tarmac.