The Winter Project

34. Isabel

Fury did not outbalance her anxiety. She sat upright, sweating hands on the wheel, terrified as she sped through the Autostrada. She had spent the first twenty minutes or so in the left hand lane, believing it to be the place for slower drivers to dawdle along, until she had become aware due to relentless horns beeping in her direction that everything in Italy, like the rest of Europe, worked backwards to her home country. At every toll booth, she breathed a sigh of relief as she was able to slow the car to a halt, only to be driven forward by fear and the speeding cars that surrounded her once she had made it past the barrier.

As she drove, she spent the majority of her energy on her fear but in the back of her mind she couldn't stop the all consuming rage that she had against Cleo ruminating through her body. In times like this, her grief for her grandmother became so unbearably strong that she felt she would never recover. It had been six years since she had died, and yet when Isabel felt in any way hurt or angry all she could do was think of her grandmother and without even trying she would bring herself back to the same level of grief that she had felt on day one. She had been stuck in her grief because of this for all of these years, unable to detach any negative emotion from the pain of losing the woman she had loved so much.

Unable to take her fear of the road anymore, she swerved down the next available exit and tried to enjoy a more relaxed journey as the other cars remained on the Autostrada and she was left in peace on the quiet backroad. The sun was setting in the distance, making it difficult for her to see as it blazed it's final rays directly into her eyes. She looked around and saw nothing but vineyards, endless fields and a few mountains appearing in the distance as she drove further away from the main highway. She no longer felt enamoured by the mountains; they reminded her only of the fact that she was not home.

She didn't even know where she was headed. That was the most terrifying aspect for Isabel, above being alone or driving or simply dodging another panic attack. She would usually plan her routes meticulously, always avoiding highways, roundabouts and junctions that looked a little too daunting. Now she was simply driving for driving's sake, and soon it would get dark and she did not want to travel at all in the dark. She saw a gas station appear on the right hand side and pulled in, aware that she had been driving with minimum fuel for longer than she cared to.

As she stood alone filling up the tank, she became aware of how tired she was as she could barely focus on the rising numbers of the cost of the fuel on the screen in front of her. Despite being awake for only a few hours, her anxiety was draining her of her physical energy. Much more than that, her anger at Cleo was fuelling her desire to drive as far away as possible. She had never been so betrayed by a friend, and for this she was sure that she was never going to forgive her.

Leaving the gas station, she chose to chase the sun and keep driving, always deciding to go straight on the small roundabouts as she figured this might lead her somewhere other than tiny roads winding around the endless vineyards. Before too long she arrived at a street that looked more like Miami than Italy, the pavements lined with tall palm trees and the roundabouts now decorated with ornate concrete fountains in the middle. Scared to drive through the town and end up back on the highway, she took a right turn at one roundabout and drove down a steep hill until she was facing water.

She pulled into a hotel car park and thought about checking in for the night, but her funds were running low and she was worried about how much it would cost her to get back home. Having observed the newly built look of the hotel and the outdoor pool slightly obscured by large rose bushes, she felt that this hotel was one she could not afford to stay in.

She was too scared to go home. She was too scared to go anywhere anymore. Now, faced with her fears of being alone, she had no choice but to soldier on. Out of the van, she could feel the sharp breeze of the winter evening, and she headed down to the water to see where she was and what her new temporary home looked like.

The water that she was sure was the ocean turned out to be a lake, and she felt stupid for even thinking she was anywhere near a coastline. The lake was of outstanding splendour and for a brief moment she was able to forget about everything that had brought her here and just focus on the present moment. The cold, refreshing air. The sun setting over the mountains. The beauty of the water as it splashed gently against the land. A small wooden pier stretched out into the lake, and Isabel cautiously walked down it and sat at the edge, her feet dangling just above the icy cold water below. It reminded her of one of her grandmother's stories about Italy, a beautiful lake where she and Isabel's grandfather had sailed around the lake on a boat, totally in awe and bliss as any loved up couple would be in such a location. Isabel felt that she was there in the story and she could picture her beautiful grandmother walking down the cobbled streets adjacent to the lake, hand in hand with her husband who she had shared so many years with. For a brief moment, it was as if she could feel her presence with her, and she had never felt so close to her. She was convinced for only a second that she could smell her perfume. As she looked around, she no longer felt anything except for the desire to sit there alone and in peace, processing the raw emotion of missing somebody so much that it hurt even to breathe.