Page 10 of The Girl from Sicily

10

JESSICA, JUNE 2005

Enjoying the dawn chorus of sparrows chirping outside, Jess pondered staying in bed a little longer, stretching out lazily. But she was meeting Piero at eight and didn’t want to rush.

After a leisurely shower and a quick breakfast, she connected her laptop to the internet and read about the Agrigento temples. The site dated from the fifth century bc and was one of the most outstanding examples of ancient Greek art and architecture in Italy. The images looked amazing, and she couldn’t wait to visit.

She checked her appearance in the mirror. The pink floral cotton slip dress was a little 1990s, but it was almost as cool as wearing shorts, which she’d decided might be too informal, given that Piero had said they’d be having lunch in a restaurant. She fetched her wide-brim straw sunhat and canvas tote bag, into which she placed a bottle of water, her digital camera, her wallet and a tube of sunscreen. Then, settling her sunglasses on her nose, she went to meet Piero.

She found him standing beside a red Alfa Romeo coupé, dressed in his trademark outfit of dark blue jeans and an open-neck fitted white shirt.

He wished her good morning, and she offered him her hand. But instead of taking it, he bent to kiss her on both cheeks.

Flustered, she breathed in the spicy scent of his aftershave. Clearly, their friendship had progressed. Don’t read too much into it, Jess! She settled herself into the front passenger seat.

‘I connected to the Agrigento website earlier,’ she said as Piero drove them out through the vineyards. ‘The temples look amazing. I can’t believe they’ve remained standing for over two and a half thousand years.’

‘The Concordia is the best preserved. You’ll love it.’ A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. ‘I’ll drop you at the eastern entrance and pick you up at the western one. It will take you about three hours to walk from one end of the site to the other.’ He glanced at the hat, which she’d placed on her lap. ‘You’ve come well prepared. Just make sure you keep hydrated.’

‘I’ll do that,’ she said, grateful for his concern.

‘My meeting will be over by twelve thirty. That’ll give us ample time to get to Licata.’

‘Licata? I thought the restaurant was in Agrigento.’

‘Sorry. I should have clarified. Licata is further down the coast.’

‘I’m looking forward to seeing the Med. Here in the middle of Sicily, it’s hard to believe we’re on an island.’

‘The sea is never far away, Jess. We’ll be in Agrigento within an hour.’

‘It’s really kind of you to take me. Oh, and thanks again for including me in your wine and food tasting yesterday.’ She fidgeted with the rim of her hat. ‘I hope you didn’t think I was being critical of the ricotta.’

‘Not at all. It was a fair observation. We use ricotta a lot in Sicilian cooking. But Stefania is already thinking of substituting the cannoli with a lighter dessert.’

‘I feel bad about it now.’

‘I assure you there’s no need.’

She looked down at her side, and his competent hand on the gear stick captured her attention. Well-shaped with smooth skin. Manicured fingernails. Her gaze fell on his long, lean thighs. Feeling the heat flushing through her, she tore her eyes away.

What the hell was she doing? She was still married to Scott. True, she was getting divorced, but she shouldn’t be looking at another man already.

Wanting to distract herself, Jess stared out of the window. They’d reached the strada statale , noticeably in better condition than the road she’d taken to get to the winery from Palermo the other day. Piero had inserted a CD into the car’s sound system, and the sultry tones of Mina singing ‘ Il Cielo in Una Stanza ’, ‘The Sky in One Room’, filled the air.

‘Beautiful,’ Piero said.

She turned to look at him, her cheeks warming up.

‘The scenery,’ he said, nodding towards her window.

‘Of course, yes, it is,’ she said, making herself focus on the fields whipping by.

* * *

Later, after snapping countless photos during a gruelling walk, nudging her way through groups of tourists along the ridge between the temples, Jess arrived at the pickup point she’d arranged with Piero. Thankfully, there were water fountains at intervals, where she could refill her bottle to prevent her dying of thirst. And she was glad she’d remembered her sunscreen, or she’d have been burnt to a crisp. But the temples were as magnificent as they’d promised to be. Well worth a visit.

‘How was it?’ Piero asked as Jess settled herself into the front passenger seat.

‘Wonderful! The Concordia is so well preserved.’

‘Local people converted it into a Christian place of worship in the sixth century, which meant they maintained it better than the other temples.’

‘It reminds me so much of the Parthenon in Athens.’ She’d gone there with her parents when she was a teen.

‘Both are Doric temples built on platforms,’ Piero said, starting the car.

‘How was your wine producers’ meeting?’ she asked.

‘Very successful, thanks. My father and two acquaintances started the association seven years ago to present Sicilian wine to the world. Last year, we organised an exhibition in Palermo, “Sicilia en Primeur”, to showcase the quality of the latest harvest and the excellence of the wines about to be marketed. This year, the event will be held in Agrigento. Our plan is to hold the exhibition in the different provincial capitals on a rotating basis.’

‘I know so little about Sicilian wine. But what I tasted last night, I really liked.’ She inclined her head towards him. ‘When will the Agrigento event take place?’

‘At the end of August. Not long now.’

‘Are there vineyards all over the island?’

‘There are. Sicily is the number one Italian wine region in terms of vineyard acreage and the tenth in the world.’

‘Gosh! I had no idea.’ The conversation starter, used for politeness, had turned into something that had truly grabbed her interest.

‘We’re in a privileged position at the centre of the Mediterranean Sea.’ Piero steered the car down a straight road below the temple ridge. ‘And our ideal climate – sufficiently varied – makes Sicily the perfect region to grow high-quality grapes.’

‘It’s good that you practise sustainability,’ Jess said, remembering what he’d told her last night.

‘We have over two and a half thousand hours of sunshine a year. That means the plants remain healthy and producers can avoid the use of chemicals in the vineyards.’

‘Does it ever get cold in the winter?’ She was thinking of the baglio. Would she need central heating if she were to accept it?

‘Oh, yes. We’ve even had snow at the tenuta.’

‘That’s incredible,’ she said, surprised.

‘Sicily only enjoys a mild Mediterranean climate along its coasts.’

Jess gazed out of the window. The landscape was much drier and rockier than inland. She indicated towards what looked like enormous plastic tunnels.

‘What do they grow in those?’

‘Vegetables of all types, cherry tomatoes on the vine and cantaloupe melons, exported all over the world. The economy of this area is based on agriculture and fishing.’ He glanced at her. ‘Is Sicily like you expected?’

‘To be honest, I didn’t know what to expect. My grandmother came from here, but a family rift meant I knew very little about it.’

‘What kind of rift, if you don’t mind me asking?’

‘I’m completely in the dark. All I know is, something made my mother cut herself off from her family. Probably happened before I was born, or when I was too young to remember.’

‘How mysterious. I recall you said your nonna left you a baglio near Villaurora. It must have been a surprise, given what you’ve just told me.’

‘It was. The crazy thing is, I’m already falling for the place. But I’d be mad to hang on to it. My life is in Bristol. My second cousin and her husband have been farming the land and were probably expecting to inherit it. Depriving them of it would be selfish of me.’

‘Perhaps you can come to some form of arrangement?’ he asked, signalling right at the sign for Licata.

‘Perhaps,’ she said.

Should she give voice to her concerns about Giovanna and Angelo? No, she decided. She didn’t know Piero well enough.

* * *

The restaurant overlooked the marina, and Jess exclaimed with delight at the myriad pleasure craft lining the waterfront and piers.

She and Piero had been seated on a shaded terrace with a stunning view through the palm trees of boat masts bobbing on the deep blue sea.

‘This place is beautiful.’ Jess swept her gaze around. ‘Thank you for introducing me to it.’

‘Glad you like it. Just wait until you taste the food. I hope you’ll like it even more.’

A waiter arrived to take their drinks order, and they both opted for sparkling water while they perused the menu. Before they could choose, the chef, a bespectacled young man who went by the name of Salvo, came up to their table to explain the dishes of the day. He spoke rapidly in Italian with a heavy Sicilian accent, and Jess asked Piero to translate for her.

‘I’ll have the tuna tartare followed by roasted sea bass,’ she said.

‘Excellent choice.’ Piero’s smile crinkled the edges of his eyes. ‘I’ll have the same.’

He requested the wine menu, then said, ‘We can go for a walk after lunch so I can metabolise the alcohol before I drive.’

‘Sounds like a good plan.’

Their server returned, and Piero ordered a bottle of Grillo.

‘It’s a Sicilian white wine,’ he said. ‘My brother produces this variety in his tenuta.’

‘I enjoyed meeting Fabrizio and Cristina.’ Jess smiled. ‘Do they have any children?’

‘Only the one. Five-year-old Damiano. He’s a bit of a handful, runs rings around every nanny they get for him.’

‘I’m an only child too,’ Jess said. ‘Like my mother.’ She’d been told that much, at least.

‘Do your parents live in Bristol as well?’

Jess shared the tragic story of the accident with Piero, and he said how sorry he was.

‘I have a lot of English cousins,’ she continued brightly. ‘And now I’ve met my Sicilian ones.’

‘Won’t they be able to recommend a builder to you for a quote on restoring the baglio?’

She shook her head.

‘I’d rather the referral comes from someone without a vested interest, if you know what I mean?—’

‘I understand.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Would you like me to take a look at the baglio before I contact someone on your behalf? Just so I can explain what’s involved.’

‘That would be wonderful, Piero. Thank you.’

Their waiter arrived with the wine, which he uncorked and decanted for Piero to taste.

‘ Perfetto .’ He nodded to the server, who then poured a glass for Jess before leaving the bottle in an ice bucket on their table.

‘Lovely,’ she said as the acidity exploded on her tongue.

Their first course was served, and they both picked up their forks.

‘ Buon appetito ,’ Piero said. ‘Enjoy your meal!’

The flavour of the tuna was fresh, and rich with buttery undertones. Jess was relaxed enough in Piero’s company by now not to feel the need for polite conversation, so she relished the dish in silence. While they waited for the roasted sea bass, she caught Piero eyeing the ring on her finger.

‘I suppose I should take this off,’ she said, blushing.

‘I only removed mine after my divorce was finalised.’ He held up his own ring finger.

‘Oh, when was that?’

‘Last year. But Eleonora and I had been living apart for a long time.’ He took a sip of his wine. ‘She’s a city girl at heart. When the kids started attending a private school in Palermo, she stayed in our apartment there during the week. They would all come to the tenuta for the weekends and holidays. Eventually, she met someone else.’

‘I’m so sorry,’ Jess said. ‘I know how that feels. My ex met someone else as well.’

Their waiter approached to clear their plates and bring the main course. Piero waited until he’d gone, then asked, ‘Do you want to talk about what happened? Tell me to butt out if you’d rather not.’

‘I don’t mind telling you,’ she said. And so she did. She told him about the endless rounds of IVF and all about Scott’s betrayal. ‘I’m fine with it now,’ she added. ‘A new chapter is starting in my life and coming to Sicily has been like an epiphany. I’m no longer in love with Scott.’

‘It’s good you’ve moved on, Jess. That’s something I, myself, can’t do.’ Piero stared down at his hands. ‘Truth is, I’m still in love with Eleonora. I’ll be in love with her until the end of my days.’

He lifted his gaze to Jess’s and her heart went out to him.

* * *

Later, after lunch and a friendly argument over who would settle the bill – which Piero won – they went for a walk along the waterfront.

‘I like this place,’ Jess said, enjoying the change of scenery. The fresh sea breeze cooled the skin on her arms and she licked the taste of salt from her lips.

‘Licata was the first city liberated by the Allies in July 1943,’ Piero said. ‘The Americans came ashore here and at Gela, just down the coast.’

‘How interesting.’ Jess glanced around, imagining the port devoid of pleasure craft and teeming with warships and troops, and the shore a morass of exploding shells. She’d seen enough World War II movies to know what it must have been like.

‘How did your family cope during the conflict?’ she asked as they made their way down a quay extending into the sea.

‘My grandfather helped the Allies. When they set up AMGOT, he became the mayor of Palermo.’

‘What does AMGOT stand for?’

‘Allied Military Government of Occupied Territories.’

‘Poor Sicily. Conquered once again.’

‘ Appunto .’ Precisely. ‘We’ve had so many rulers, it’s easy to lose count. We were joined to Italy in 1860. Six years later, there was a revolt and the Italian navy bombarded Palermo. It caused a lot of resentment.’

‘I can well believe that.’

‘We have our own regional government now. But we still answer to Rome.’

The erstwhile breeze had stiffened, taking Jess’s breath and making conversation difficult. She and Piero carried on walking in silence until he suggested they returned to the car. Back in the front passenger seat, as she listened to Piero’s choice of music – an eclectic mix of Mariah Carey, The Killers, and Coldplay – she mulled over his revelation of still being in love with his ex-wife.

How terribly sad for him.

She sighed to herself. Any temptation she might have had of starting a holiday fling with him had been put to bed. She smiled at the saying. There’d be no ‘going to bed’ with Piero Sacca. Instead, she’d focus on deciding about the baglio with no silly nonsense – as she now considered it – to distract her.

Her eyes felt heavy as they began to close and, before Jess knew it, she’d fallen asleep. She only woke up when Piero brought the Alfa to a halt in front of the tenuta’s main building.

‘Sorry for dropping off,’ she said. ‘I hope I didn’t snore.’

‘I didn’t hear a thing.’ He chuckled and got out to open her door.

Ever the gentleman , she thought as Cappero rushed up to lick her hand and she gave him a pat on the head.

‘Thank you for a lovely day, Piero,’ she said.

‘It was my pleasure. Let me know when you’d like me to look at your baglio.’

‘I’ll do that.’

He kissed her on both cheeks and, steeling herself not to react to him, she kissed him demurely in return.

At the cottage’s portico, she gave a gasp. A trail of ants was leading up the front step and under the door. She must have left some food out in the kitchen. Quickly unlocking the door, she took a deep breath and rushed inside. Sure enough, there was an open jar of strawberry jam on the counter. And it was completely covered in ants.

Ants must be a feature of life in Sicily. Something she’d have to get used to if she decided to accept Lucia’s bequest and live in Villaurora.