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Katie

I’m in a complete daze. My team at work has arranged a full day of surprises at the salon.

I’ve been spoiled with gifts and food. There’s been activities and games happening throughout the day.

Everyone’s dancing and singing while going about their day, but I cannot focus on anything.

I am working on autopilot, carrying out colours and cuts on my clients; my head is somewhere different.

Everyone keeps saying I’m overwhelmed with what’s going on.

I am overwhelmed, all right, but not with my birthday celebrations.

I am trying to get my head around why someone would send me a wedding invitation and a one-way ticket to Naples, Italy.

The invitation is to the wedding of Katherine Harris and Leonardo Guerra.

My full name is Katherine Harris. My dad has always called me Katie, so since I moved in with him at sixteen, I haven't been known as anything else.

Only family and people who knew me before then would know that .

But it’s the name Leonardo Guerra that my mind keeps being drawing back to. It’s a surname I have been trying to remember for years. Guerra—how could I forget?

My first love, at fifteen years old—his name was Leonardo Guerra. My Leo.

Fifteen years ago.

“Kat-er-een!” Leo shouts through the fence that borders the hotel Mum and I are staying in.

My stomach fills will butterflies as I walk over to him. He’s so incredibly handsome. I’ve never felt this way about a boy before.

“No person can see me, yes?” Leo’s broken English makes me smile.

“The coast is clear.” I beckon him to climb over.

“The coast?” He looks at me in confusion.

“I mean yes—there is nobody here, only me. No one can see you.”

He smiles and jumps the fence. As soon as he reaches me, he cups my face in both hands.

His dark eyes connect with mine before he kisses me so passionately.

His kiss is firm, but his lips are gentle.

We stay like that for a few seconds. The feeling of his lips on mine and his hands on my face make me feel lighter than air.

When he breaks our contact, my body protests, but then he puts his arm around me and calls me “La mia ragazza.” My girl —and I melt into his arms. Which is where I spend most of the day. It’s where I’ve spent every day since I met him—in his arms.

We walk over to our usual place in the hotel’s gardens.

There’s lots of trees and tall plants, which give us the privacy Leo wants.

Here we are in our own little world. Lying on the grass, I talk of my dream of being a hairdresser in a top hairdressing salon.

Leo listens intently to my every word. He speaks much better English than I do Italian, but he is still learning.

My fourteen days holiday in Italy are passing so quickly.

“Are you hungry?” I ask Leo. It’s become our routine now that I go into the dining room of the hotel, fill a plate with food, and we share it beneath the palm trees.

“Yes. Please.” Leo stands up, holding his hand out to me to help me up. Hand in hand, we carefully walk to the restaurant, ducking in and out of sunbeds and umbrellas so not to be seen.

“Hey!” A security guard has spotted us hiding behind a table.

“Run!” Leo shouts, wrapping his arm around my waist steadying me as we run as fast as we can.

Leo pulls me into a storage shed. We squeeze in behind some stacked sunbeds, our bodies pressed together.

We watch through a crack in the door as the guard runs straight past us.

After a moment, the relief has us laughing.

As I make a move to leave now that the coast is clear, Leo pushes me back against the wall with his body.

He cups my face with his hands again. His eyes widen.

“Marry me, Kat-er-een.”

“Yes,” I reply instantly.

We kiss until my lips are numb. When we get back outside, we excitedly plan our future together.

We can’t get married yet, of course—we are only fifteen, but when we are older, we will.

I will move to Italy, open a fancy hair salon, and we will have lots of children.

The planning continues late into the night while we stare at the stars.

Thankfully, my mum has been having just as much fun with the Italian men as I have with Leo and never questions where I am at any point in the holiday.

The day Mum and I have to return home comes too quickly. My heart breaks, leaving Leo. I have fallen madly in love with him.

“You send letter every week,” Leo confirms for about the hundredth time.

“Yes, and we will speak on the phone every day?” I reply.

“Yes. 01264765908.” Leo recites my home telephone number back to me, making me smile through my tears. After one last kiss, I brokenheartedly board the coach back to the airport.

It’s the longest journey home, each bit of distance travelled making the crack in my heart grow even bigger. When we do return to our home, we are greeted by the phone ringing. I answer it immediately, bursting into tears of joy when I hear Leo’s voice.

Every day from then on, Leo calls right on time. I pull the house phone wire as far as I can so I can sit in the coat cupboard and speak to Leo in private, much to my mum’s annoyance. We write to each other once a week, and Leo’s English has improved every time we speak.

This afternoon I have signed up to an Italian language class.

I can’t wait to tell Leo when he calls tonight.

But when I arrive home, our front door is locked.

Mum never locks the door when we are in, and she often forgets to lock it when she goes out.

She wouldn’t have locked it knowing I was on my way home.

“Katherine.” My mum’s voice behind me has me backing away from the door. That’s when I notice the signs. Eviction notices. There’s one on the door and one on each window. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. There’s nothing I can do.”

Panic sets in as I hear the house phone ringing inside. I know that will be Leo.

“I need to get in. I need to speak to Leo,” I cry.

“We can’t, Katherine. Everything has been repossessed,” Mum explains sadly.

“But I need my things. I need my letters from Leo. I need to tell him what’s happening.”

“Come on. I'm dropping you off at your dad’s. You can ring Leo from there.”

But I couldn’t. I couldn’t remember his number. Leo always rang me.

The devastation I felt when I lost all contact with him comes flooding back.

I tried to remember his address, but I couldn’t. I tried searching the internet, but there was no Facebook or social media back then. By the time there was, I couldn’t remember his surname. But today, seeing it there in front of me in black and white, I know that is his name.

The last letter I wrote to him also comes back to me:

My Leo, of course I will marry you. I promise you, if neither of us is married by the time we get to 30, we will marry each other and we will be together forever, just like we planned.

Well, blow me down; it looks like he found me .

He could have called first or, you know, sent me a message on Instagram or something. I am obviously assuming there isn’t an actual wedding, and that’s just something to grab my attention and make me get on that plane, which I am not doing. I can’t.

I’m carrying on with my full set of foils on Mrs. Blackwood when I see one of the guys who were at Jax’s house walk past the salon.

He looks straight in through the window, making eye contact with me.

Chills spread throughout my body, making me feel sick.

He didn’t see me at the house, so how does he know who I am?

Maybe it’s just a coincidence. Maybe it’s not the guy I saw at Jax’s door.

I look at Mike, the security guard who has also spotted the guy looking at me.

He walks over to him, but the guy quickly leaves.

Mike comes in and quietly speaks to me so the clients can’t hear.

“Do you know that man, Katie?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“That’s the third time he has walked past the salon today.

I have radioed down to the hotel door security, and they are escorting him out.

He won’t be coming back. There’s something very unnerving about the way he was acting.

If you see him again, Katie, you must tell me.

Even if it is outside of work hours, you call me. Understood?”

“Yes. Thanks, Mike.”

I am really freaking out now.

I don’t know what to do. Should I tell Mike about what has happened with Jax?

Mike is a good friend. He would help, but then, I don’t know what I would be dragging him into.

Plus, I’d hate to get Jax into more trouble.

I’m hurt by the way Jax spoke to me on the phone.

Ordering me about like I was nothing to him.

He didn’t once ask me how I was. This is the end for us, I’m sure of it.

I could do with lying low for a while until it all blows over. Maybe I will go to Italy, get away from it all. No, don’t be silly, Katie; you can’t just drop everything and go. You have commitments. Shaking my head at myself, I carry on highlighting the client's hair in front of me.

On my break, I go into the staffroom and get the wedding invitation out of my bag. I scrutinise it again, but I see nothing new. There’s no contact number or address. Just the wedding date and our names.

Looking at the plane ticket, I realise it is for tonight.

I look up the flight number online to check if it is real, and it is.

This is crazy, but I think I am going to go.

It’s just a little holiday until things with Jax sort themselves out, I tell myself.

It will be nice to catch up with Leo again and see what he has been up to.

I hope things are better now with his father.

I remember the sadness in his eyes when he used to speak of him.

I talk to Bella, and she gives the go-ahead for some emergency annual leave starting tomorrow. As soon as I finish work, I throw a load of clothes in my little suitcase, quickly change, grab my passport, and get a black cab to the airport.

I find the right check-in desk and hand over my ticket.

“Good evening, Miss Harris. We have a note here to upgrade you on check-in. So you will be seated in row two in first class. As you are flying first class, you have exclusive use of the Galleries First Lounge, where everything is complimentary. The door is to the right. On behalf of British Airways, I wish you a safe and enjoyable trip. If there’s anything we can help you with during your journey with us, please speak to one of our representatives. Have a good evening, Miss Harris.”

My mouth is open as I retrieve my boarding pass.

I am stunned. Okay, is Leo now rich? I mean, I know we were only teenagers when we met, but he never came across as having money.

He was always so scared of being seen in the hotel.

Like he wasn’t allowed in there because he couldn’t afford it.

He used to say he didn’t belong there, as if his family were from a different class to those staying in the 5-star hotel.

It didn’t and doesn’t matter to me, but this upgrade has shocked me.

I was going to offer to pay him back for the flight when I got there, but I’m not sure I’ll have enough in my bank for a first-class ticket.

I go into the lounge and take advantage of the complimentary food and wine. I feel a lot more relaxed with a full tummy and a little alcohol running through my veins. We board on time, and I’m soon sat comfortably in my seat.

“Good evening, Miss Harris. Here is the menu for your meal on board the flight tonight. If you’d like to get comfortable, I will return shortly to take your food and drinks order.”

Wow, just, wow. Well, I haven’t been on a plane like this before.

Normally, when I travel, there are three or four seats in the area where my one seat/bed/sofa room is.

There’s a large reclining leather seat and an electric retractable footrest, so you can pretty much lie down.

There’s a table beside me that, just like the recliner, moves wherever you like with a touch of a button.

I'm going to enjoy this. Shame the flight isn't longer.

I order a filet steak, and it is cooked to perfection. After I’ve enjoyed a few glasses of champagne, the flight is soon over, and I’m disappointed when I have to leave the plane. However, the bag of complimentary gifts softens the blow.

I collect my suitcase from the carousel and make my way out to arrivals.

The alcohol seems to have worn off, and I’m feeling quite nervous now.

I am expecting to see Leo waiting for me by the exit.

At least, I’m hoping he is, as I haven’t got an address to get a taxi to.

Oh gosh, what am I doing here? This is madness.

I decide that if he’s not here in ten minutes, I will book into a hotel nearby.

But surely he wouldn’t have gone to all this trouble to then leave me alone in Italy.

I search the crowds for someone who looks like a thirty-year-old version of Leo.

There are a lot of handsome Italian men, but nobody I recognise.

After ten minutes, the crowds have disappeared, and there’s no sign of Leo.

Trying not to be disheartened, I join the taxi queue outside the airport and google hotels nearby on my phone.

I’m feeling a little disappointed after imaging our reunion—Leo and I running into each other’s arms, him picking me up and spinning me around.

I give myself a stern talking to; this is not some cute romance novel. This is real life.

First of all, it has been a long time since Leo and I saw each other; we won’t be picking up where we left off.

Second, who knows what is happening with Jax?

Although after our last conversation, I am not sure he has any feelings for me at all, and to be honest, I’m not sure how I really feel about him.

We had only been together for six months, and I actually can’t see us spending the rest of our lives together.

But that conversation should take place with him before starting up anything else.

And third of all, I am in a beautiful country; I want to relax and enjoy it with no drama. I’m supposed to be escaping man trouble, not finding more.

As I approach the end of the taxi queue, a deep voice behind me makes me jump.

“Katherine Harris?”

I turn to see a large Italian man in a black pinstripe suit. But it’s not Leo.