Page 20 of The Girl from Sicily

20

JESSICA, JULY 2005

Teresina slipped her hand into Jess’s as they strolled between the vines. It was the children’s last day at the tenuta. Tomorrow they’d return to their mother in Palermo, and it occurred to Jess she would miss them. Gigi and Teresina had included her in their walks with Piero and Cappero every morning since she’d met them three days ago. It had meant getting up early before the heat became too intense, but she didn’t mind. She enjoyed spending time with Piero and his kids – it had stopped her from dwelling excessively on Motorbike Man – and her chest deflated at the thought of Teresina and Gigi not being around any more.

‘This one has black spots,’ Gigi called out as he skipped ahead with Cappero to inspect the rose bushes while the dog snuffled in the soil. ‘Come and look, Papi!’

‘Well done, son,’ Piero said, going up to him. ‘I’ll come back and check the health of the vines later.’

‘Can I come also?’ Gigi asked.

‘Of course.’ Piero ruffled the boy’s hair. ‘I’m proud you’re showing an interest.’

‘I’m interested too,’ Teresina added.

‘I know, sweetie. Sei bravissima .’ You’re very good.

‘Are you coming to the pool with us, Jess?’ Teresina tugged at her hand. ‘We can play chicken fight again.’

The kids never tired of that game, it seemed. Teresina was a determined character, but had learnt not to cheat. She no longer launched herself off Jess’s shoulders; instead, Jess was under strict instructions to keep a tight hold of her legs.

Jess agreed to the suggestion and soon she was standing in the shallow end, gripping Teresina tightly as sunlight sparkled on the water.

‘I’m shattered,’ she said later after five bouts of the competition, two of which Teresina had succeeded in winning – perhaps because Gigi let her.

‘I’m dead beat too,’ Piero said, his smile flooding Jess with warmth.

They climbed out of the pool and sauntered over to the sunbeds where they’d left their towels. Cappero left his shady spot under a bougainvillea and padded across the decking to lick their hands.

‘Gigi and Teresina have boundless energy,’ Jess said, gazing at the two children – who’d stayed in the pool.

‘They do, indeed.’ Piero grinned. ‘But at bedtime, they fall asleep as soon as their heads hit the pillow.’

‘Nice for you to have some peace and quiet, then.’

‘It’s the only time I can catch up on some work.’

‘I’m not looking forward to going back to the daily grind in Bristol.’ Jess pushed the damp hair off her face and stretched out on her sunbed. ‘Constant target setting has become a bit of a nightmare.’

‘Why don’t you chuck it all in and come and work in Sicily? I mean, you have a house already. All you need is a job?—’

‘I’m a bank manager, Piero.’ She gazed across the vineyards towards the distant mountains. ‘I’d have to start at the bottom in this country. And I’m sure the Villaurora bank is fully staffed, as it’s such a tiny branch.’

‘I’m not saying you should manage a bank here. Didn’t you mention your qualifications are in accounting and finance? There’s a lot of freelance work available in that field. You’d just need to study the Sicilian regulations?—’

‘I don’t know. It would be a tremendous change in my life.’

‘Of course. Sorry I mentioned it.’

‘No. Don’t be sorry.’ She eyed his apologetic expression. ‘I’ll give it some thought. But first, I need to decide about the baglio.’

And solve the mystery of Motorbike Man . Just the thought of him made her skin prickle.

‘How about I go there with you the day after tomorrow?’ Piero suggested.

‘Thanks.’ Jess smiled. ‘I’d certainly appreciate your advice.’

* * *

The following morning, Jess made her way to her car. The winery appeared so forlorn without the children. Even Cappero seemed dejected; he was lying under a pomegranate bush and, not bothering to get up, simply thumped his tail on the ground.

‘I know how you feel, boy.’ Jess walked over to him and patted him on the head. ‘We’re missing Gigi and Teresina already, aren’t we?’

The dog whined plaintively in response, and Jess wished she could take him to the farmhouse with her – he’d soon alert her if there was an intruder. But she couldn’t, of course. His job was to guard the winery, not her baglio. Hopefully, Giovanna or Angelo would be there. Jess resolved to get them to be more forthcoming. After all, she’d said they could continue farming the land that once belonged to Lucia…

Heat shimmered off the road as Jess drove across the dusty valley. Sprinklers sent out jets of water, irrigating the vineyards, and the ubiquitous prickly pears had turned grey under the unrelenting sun. Would she tire of this climate if she were to live here permanently? Not as much as she tired of the constant wind and rain in Bristol, maybe.

She changed gear to head up to Villaurora, and her insides quivered. Motorbike Man had got to her – no doubt about it. That cutthroat gesture, the note warning her off. Who could he be and why had he approached her? If he was, indeed, the person who’d driven his bike up the hill behind the property, what was he doing up there?

Before too long, Jess was parking in front of the low white farmhouse. After spending half an hour taking more photos of the baglio’s rooms, she went back outside and made her way around to the back of the building. Her heart gladdened as she spotted a figure, who looked like Giovanna, working in a distant field.

‘ Ciao ,’ Jess said, going up to her. ‘How are you? I’m pleased to see you, cousin.’

‘As I am you.’ Giovanna leant on her spade. ‘What can I do for you?’

‘Is there somewhere we can talk?’ she asked, determined to get her cousin to address her concerns.

‘What do you want to talk about, Jess?’

She explained about the man in the supermarket, the note and the motorbike.

‘It’s the same bike I heard here last week,’ she added. ‘I’m sure of it.’

‘There’s more than one motorbike in Villaurora.’ Giovanna’s tone came across as curt. ‘How can you be so certain?’

‘Call it a sixth sense. And also, that the man in the supermarket was riding it. It must have been him who left that note.’

‘It’s extremely strange, I agree.’

‘Have you any idea why he would warn me off my inheritance?’

Giovanna frowned and slanted her body slightly away from Jess.

‘I have no clue,’ she said, shaking her head vehemently.

‘One thing that’s been puzzling me.’ Jess changed tack. ‘How did my grandmother come to own this property? It clearly didn’t belong to your family?—’

‘Don’t you know?’ Again, the curt tone.

‘Remember, I told you there was a rift between her and my mother?—’

‘Let’s go and sit in the shade.’ Giovanna’s tone had softened, and she led her to a bench beneath one of the olive trees. She passed her a bottle of water, and Jess took a sip. ‘In Sicily, we don’t talk about certain things. Especially anything to do with Cosa Nostra.’ Giovanna met Jess’s eye. ‘The code of silence – omertà – forbids it.’

Jess remembered her conversation with Piero when he told her about the crime boss in Villaurora, and her heart set up an uncomfortable beat. The discussion with Giovanna had become extremely odd. Why on earth had she brought up the Mafia?

‘There’s one thing I’ve been meaning to ask you,’ Jess said, changing tack again. ‘I know Lucia’s married surname was Bonanno. But what was her maiden name? It must have been the same as your grandmother’s.’

‘Pavano. The family name is Pavano.’

‘Is there anyone around still with that name?’

‘No one in Villaurora.’ Giovanna fidgeted with the water bottle.

Jess stared at her cousin. Was she telling the truth? She’d lied about not hearing the motorbike, and her body language suggested she’d lied again. But why would she fib about her family? It was all too weird for words.

‘Thanks for talking to me,’ Jess said, realising she wasn’t getting very far with her questions. ‘I’ll let you get on with your work now. But I’m coming back tomorrow with Piero Sacca. He’s promised to give me some advice on restoring the baglio.’

‘So you’re still planning on keeping it?’ The curt tone was back again.

‘It all depends…’ It was Jess’s turn to be reticent. Two could play at the same game. She took her leave of her second cousin and returned to the farmhouse.

Inside, she paced the courtyard, imagining her grandmother doing the same. Lucia was in Villaurora at the same time as that mafioso Piero had spoken about. She might have known him. And what about Lucia’s husband, her own mother’s father? Lucia had taken his surname, Bonanno. Could the baglio have been his?

Jess had a light bulb moment. Perhaps she’d been barking up the wrong tree. Maybe she should be looking for members of the Bonanno family. She’d ask Piero for his help. Jess couldn’t wait to bring him here tomorrow. She really needed to make up her mind about her inheritance. It was July already, and she only had ten days left in Sicily before she had to go back to Bristol.

From the corner of her eye, she discerned a rickety wooden chair, which had been placed near the entrance door, its seat made of woven straw. She couldn’t remember seeing it here on previous visits. The chair appeared old, but it looked sturdy enough.

She sat in the shade and swept her gaze around the courtyard, just like Lucia must have done all those years ago. What had her life been like? How had the war affected her? Had her husband been Sicilian like her? So many questions, so little chance of getting them answered. Jess drew in a deep breath and released a heavy sigh.