So it was that Dana, Tonya, Alice, Shane, Jenny, Robin, Bette and Tina, this merry group of eight women, decided to spend the rest of December in Florence, under Marina’s roof.

They were able to buy plane tickets for Friday of the same week, thanks to their hostess, who simply had to say a word to a few good contacts for things to go her way.  

‘A toast to Marina!’ Alice yelled at lunch, lifted her cup of juice.

The friends were having a meal inside the airport as they waited for boarding time. A huge circular table had been set aside for them. It was surrounded by layers and layers of bags, stretching into infinity.

It was not their fault, really. One couldn’t stay away from his or hers entire wardrobe for a whole month. The separation was too much to bear.

‘To Marina!’ The others echoed in tones that varied from Dana’s superbly cheerfulness to Jenny’s nonchalance.

‘Oh, God, I can’t believe that I’m really going! That we’re all going together.’ Tonya said, smiling from ear to ear.

‘Her house must be enormous to acommodate so many people.’ Tina commented.

‘Say, like a vacation camp?’ Bette joked, pecked her girlfriend on the lips.

‘It does feel like we’re a bunch of school kids going to camp, doesn’t it?’ Alice queried, glancing around the giant table and their luggage.

‘Maybe it’s because of the excitement. I can barely wait to land in Italia. La bella Italia…’ Robin mused, beaming in antecipation.

Then regretted her act as she heard Jenny’s soft sigh of distress. The writer had kept to herself during the whole week, barely responding to Robin’s words and caresses.

That day hadn’t been any different. Silence enveloped her, emanated from her body, coalesced into an extra protective field around her aura. Her eyes were always averted from everyone else, covered by a flimsy, filmy smog that partially separated her from reality.

Guilt hammered Robin’s heart, made a metallic sound that pierced her ears. Was her selfishness causing Jenny to suffer from past memories?

When their group was divided into smaller clusters of conversation, Robin turned to her girlfriend, picked up her cold, small hands and asked:

‘Are you ok?’

Jenny shook her head, woke up from yet another reverie. Looked straight at Robin’s eyes and answered: