Page 18 of The Girl from Sicily

18

LUCIA, OCTOBER 1943

A month after Dinu had been shot, Lucia was getting ready for her wedding. Although her brother had been extremely ill at first, he’d made a steady recovery, which was why her nuptials were still going ahead.

She would always remember the emotional reunion when Ma went for the first time to visit him, the day after Pa and Francu had carried him to Gero’s baglio. With tears in her eyes, she’d watched her mother kiss Dinu, stroke his hair, and weep over his wound. The entire family then took it in turns to stay with him. Dottor Rizzu also visited, but only under cover of darkness for fear of arousing suspicion.

Marshal Cardona must have realised something was up. For all his faults, he clearly wasn’t stupid, but he couldn’t send his men into the property of an AMGOT civil affairs officer. The carabinieri answered to Gero, not the other way around.

At first, Dinu had been too sick to remember he’d lost his identity card, and thought Cardona had no clue it had been he who’d killed his sergeant. Dinu spoke of going home, and of how long it would be before he could work again. When he’d learnt the truth from Lucia, that Cardona was after him for murder, and their parents’ house had already been searched, he’d been shocked. He’d become a fuorilegge , an outlaw, and might have to live the rest of his life as an exile.

Lucia’s heart wept for her brother, despite everything he’d done. After he’d recovered enough not to need constant attention, he’d gone to stay in a cave high above the village with Francu. From what Pa had said, they lived off the rabbits they hunted and prickly pear fruit. Pa had forbidden Lucia to take the risk and visit them and, for once, she’d obeyed him.

Apparently, Dinu maintained he merited a pardon. The sergeant had shot him for smuggling two sacks of grain – hardly a capital offence – and he was unconcerned that he’d retaliated by killing the carabiniere. Pa said that Dinu was more worried about the effect his being an outlaw would have on la famiglia .

Sighing, Lucia wished her brother could be at her marriage to Gero. Dinu would have relished the fact that don Nofriu would be the guest of honour at the banquet, however, so perhaps it was for the best. The festivities after the ceremony would be held in Gero’s baglio, and the godfather had offered the services of his personal chef as a wedding gift. She felt a little ashamed that the food had been bought on the black market, when so many of the poor in the village were starving, but Gero had insisted on paying for it.

‘You deserve nothing less, amuri .’ He’d called her ‘love’. ‘If I hadn’t bought it myself, someone else would have done so. It’s the way things are, unfortunately.’

‘I get what you mean,’ she’d said, slightly consoled because any leftovers would be eaten by her family.

Lucia breathed another sigh. So much had happened in the past month since the post-fascist Italian government had signed the armistice. Everyone she knew hoped the Allies would rapidly occupy the entire peninsula. But Nazi Germany was putting up fierce resistance; they’d even liberated Mussolini from imprisonment and had set him up to lead a puppet government in the north. On 9 September, the US Fifth Army under General Mark W. Clark had landed near Salerno, 150 miles up the western coast from the straits between the mainland and Sicily. American troops had run into searing fire from the moment they’d hit the shore. It had been a hard battle but now, at last, the whole of southern Italy was in Allied hands.

Would they break through to Rome soon? Gero had told her that the Germans were only giving ground slowly, and he feared they were preparing defensive lines. Lucia prayed fervently for peace, for a time when the black market would cease to exist and people could go back to living their lives as they’d done before the world went to war.

‘You look lovely, daughter,’ her mother said, busting up to her and interrupting her musing. ‘That outfit suits you so well.’

Her wedding gift from Gero. Not a bridal gown – the conflict had turned such a purchase almost into an impossibility – but a pretty pale blue flannel dress with padded shoulders and a nipped-in high waist. God only knew what he’d paid for it . In Sicily, the wedding dress could never ‘sleep with the bride’, which meant it couldn’t stay in the same house as her. It was kept by one of the family’s womenfolk until the wedding day, and Ma’s sister – Francu’s mother – Giuseppina had looked after it for Lucia.

Annita now approached, wearing one of Lucia’s second-hand outfits.

‘I wish I had new clothes too,’ she said wistfully, smoothing her skirt.

Lucia wanted to promise her she’d buy her a pretty dress as soon as the war ended. But how would she do that? She had no money of her own, and pride would forbid her from asking Gero.

‘Come, Annita.’ She took her sister’s hand. ‘I think Pa is waiting for us outside.’

But before Lucia could leave the house, Giuseppina, as the eldest woman of the family, gave her the traditional blessing by scattering a handful of uncooked rice on her head – a symbol of prosperity and fertility for Lucia’s own future family.

Lucia couldn’t help worrying. Would she and Gero have children one day? The very thought made her squirm with anxiety that she’d never grow to love him enough for their marriage to be consummated. She would keep to her resolve on that.

As she stepped through the front door into the freshness of the October afternoon, her eyes widened. Pa was standing at the head of a borrowed donkey cart, and the beast was all dressed up for the occasion. Bows, ribbons, bells, decorated harnesses, and red and yellow plumes at its brow and pommel. Even more vivid red, yellow and orange decorations covered the entire cart. Helmeted knights and crowned kings in dramatic scenes from the legends of Charlemagne and Roland – those ancient heroes of Sicilian folklore. Not to mention sacred images of the Virgin Mary. Lucia couldn’t resist clapping with glee. Pa helped her into the cart, followed by Ma, Annita and Aunt Giuseppina.

‘Let’s go,’ Pa said, stepping forwards, leading rein in his hand. ‘We mustn’t be late.’

* * *

The wedding mass passed in a flash, and soon Lucia was walking down the aisle with her arm through Gero’s. They emerged into bright sunshine, the ringing of the church bells echoing across the square.

‘You look so beautiful,’ Gero whispered to her.

‘And you look very handsome,’ she said, gazing at him.

He was wearing his army major’s dress uniform. The button closures glinted on his khaki cotton jacket, as did the gold metal relief of the Great Seal of the United States on his drab olive wool peaked cap. Could she ever love this man? She’d grown to like him more than she’d thought she ever would.

‘I believe our car has arrived, tisoru .’ Darling. Gero’s face lit up with a wide smile.

One of don Nofriu’s picciotti had driven his boss’s Fiat 1100 onto the square. The man leapt out and opened the door for Lucia.

Gero took her hand to help her into the back seat, got in beside her and took her hand again as the driver started the engine.

‘ Ti vogghiu beni , Lucia.’ He loved her.

But she could only grip his fingers in return.

* * *

Sitting next to Gero during dinner, with don Nofriu on her other side, Lucia swept her gaze around the courtyard. Trestle tables had been set up, where her family, including Aunt Giuseppina, her husband Carlo, and their brood of six children – minus Francu – had joined them. Candles, placed in empty wine bottles, flickered in the dusky light.

Lucia’s stomach tightened with nerves. How would she make conversation with the godfather? She feared him and had nothing in common with him except Gero. Shifting her weight in her chair, she told don Nofriu about how she’d met her husband when they were both children in Brooklyn. Before too long, Gero began contributing tales of Coney Island, the candy stores and the ice cream parlours.

‘I’ve never been to la Merica,’ the godfather said. ‘Maybe one day?—’

Their antipasto course arrived – caponata , the classic Sicilian cold salad dish made with aubergines and fried peppers with black olives, tomato sauce, onion, pine nuts, capers and raisins.

‘I see you haven’t invited the maresciallo of the carabinieri.’ Don Nofriu smiled knowingly.

‘Yes, well,’ Lucia said. ‘I turned down his proposal to marry Gero instead.’ There wasn’t much that went on in Villaurora the capo didn’t know about, she thought.

‘An excellent decision.’ Don Nofriu chuckled.

‘I think so too.’ What else could she say?

‘And where is your brother?’ The godfather’s eyes glinted. ‘I haven’t seen him about the village for a while.’

Was the boss joking with her? She decided to ignore his question and distract him by commenting on the deliciousness of the food.

‘Your cook has produced a wonderful meal for us, don Nofriu. Thank you.’

‘You’re most welcome,’ he said, getting slowly to his feet. ‘A toast to the bride and groom!’ He raised his glass of Nero d’Avola red wine.

Everyone stood and toasted with their glasses. ‘ Gli spusi! ’ To the bride and groom.

Later, after a feast fit for royalty – tagliatelle with seafood sauce, shrimp risotto, roasted sea bass and, for dessert, cassata cake – Lucia’s Uncle Carlo picked up his accordion, and Gero led her onto the paved patio to dance a waltz.

Their eyes locked together and it occurred to Lucia she should be happy. This should be the happiest day of her life, but all she could think about was her brother, exiled in a cold cave up in the mountains. The thought festered at the back of her mind, together with her anxiety about sleeping with Gero.

While he was in Palermo, he’d bought a walnut double bed. It had arrived by lorry just last week, not long after Dinu had gone into hiding. Swallowing the lump of concern in her throat, Lucia thought about the tradition of the cunzata dò lettu . Her sister and her cousin Tilde – Aunt Giuseppina’s eldest daughter, who was fifteen, like Annita – had been tasked with making up the wedding bed. Only unmarried women could do that job, and the sheets had to be pure white, traditionally hand-embroidered and accompanied by silk pillowcases. They weren’t new, of course – Ma had kept those from her own wedding to Pa – but they were beautiful. Annita and Tilde would have applied the finishing touch, sugared almonds, another symbol of fertility, scattering them over the bed before locking the room to prevent the bride and groom from seeing it.

‘Shall we slip away now, sweetheart?’ Gero broke into Lucia’s thoughts.

‘Yes.’ She mustered a smile, her heart unexpectedly pounding.

The wedding party erupted into loud applause as he led her towards their bedroom door. Lucia’s face grew hot with embarrassment as he produced a key to unlock it. Inside, she eyed the bed – which had been prepared exactly like she’d expected. She went to the chest of drawers and, with trembling fingers, extracted the white cotton nightdress which Annita had put there for her.

‘Turn around, Gero,’ Lucia said.

He did as she requested, while she undressed herself and slipped on the nightie. She faced him again, and her heart skittered through a beat. He’d stripped to his underpants, and she couldn’t help staring at him – he was so muscular and well-proportioned.

‘Are you going to sleep like that?’ she asked, blushing.

‘I usually sleep naked.’ He winked.

‘You’re kidding, I hope.’ She took a step back.

‘Sorry, I couldn’t resist.’ Gero laughed.

He went to open a drawer and retrieved a pair of pyjamas while she removed the sugared almonds and got into bed. White-knuckled, she gripped the sheets, and the mattress dipped as Gero sat on the other side.

‘Relax, amuri . I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do.’ He smiled and there was tenderness in his expression. ‘Can I hold you?’

Lucia nodded, and he took her in his arms. She shivered, although the heat between their bodies was intense.

‘You must think I’m being so silly?—’

‘Not at all, sweetheart.’ He kissed her on the forehead, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and rocked her gently. ‘I’ll take care of you, tisoru . Till the end of my days. I’ll never hurt you.’

Gradually, the raucous voices outside on the patio, the accordion music and the laughter faded into silence. At last, Lucia was alone with Gero in the baglio, her new home. She found herself relaxing in his hold.

‘Would you like me to sleep on the sofa?’ he asked.

Lucia pondered his question. He hadn’t pushed himself on her and had seemed to be keeping his promise to wait for intimacy.

‘No. Stay with me, please. I trust you.’

‘Phew, that’s good to know.’ He kissed the tip of her nose and switched off the light.

She nestled into him, and soon his breathing slowed. Sleep was coming for her too, but she couldn’t help worrying about Dinu up in the mountains. She missed him so much and prayed he’d receive a pardon soon so that he’d return to the bosom of his family.