Page 37 of The Girl from Sicily

JESSICA, DECEMBER 2005

Jess’s sprits filled with contentment as she sat eating dinner with Piero’s family on Christmas Eve. She’d arrived in Sicily three days ago, having succeeded in getting two weeks off work. Piero met her at Palermo airport – it was a late-afternoon flight – and they’d gone straight to his brother’s place for the night. It had been wonderful to see Fabrizio and Cristina again, to enjoy a meal with them and meet Damiano, their five-year-old son.

Before they’d set off for the winery, Piero had taken her to visit the stunning Monreale cathedral. Afterwards, they’d gone to have lunch in a restaurant with glorious views of Palermo, the domes of the many churches and the deep blue sea beyond.

‘Next time you visit, I’ll show you around the city,’ Piero said. ‘But now we must make tracks for the tenuta. We’ll have tomorrow to ourselves and then the whole family will descend on us.’

‘How long will everyone be staying?’

‘Until New Year’s Eve, amore .’

She, herself, would leave on 3 January. She’d make the most of the short time she had here, she resolved.

Sitting at the long table now, decorated with a red cloth and candles, where she’d enjoyed the wine and food tasting six months ago, Jess was feeling rather full. Piero’s mother, Valeria, had been in the kitchen all day, preparing ‘the feast of the seven fishes’, la vigilia , with Stefania and Cristina’s help. It was traditional Christmas Eve fare, apparently. They’d begun with pickled herrings, then moved on to crab and clam arancini, scallops in browned butter, linguine with shrimp, grilled swordfish, calamari and, finally, cod.

‘I won’t be hungry for at least a week,’ Jess whispered to Piero.

He chuckled and poured her another glass of wine.

‘This is merely the start of the feasting. We’ll be eating and drinking practically non-stop until the new year.’

* * *

The day before Gigi and Teresina were due to leave with the rest of the family, while having breakfast with Jess and Piero, they begged to be taken up to Villaurora where, in recent times, the villagers had been enacting a living nativity scene.

‘We go there every year,’ Gigi said. ‘It’s fun.’

‘I’m not sure Jess will enjoy that.’ Piero chucked him under the chin. ‘But I’ll take you.’

‘Aw, Jess, please come with us,’ Teresina begged, tugging at her hand.

How could she refuse? The past several days, she’d avoided gazing up at the fever-chart crags that towered above the baglio. It was about time she took a first step towards facing her demons, and a visit to the Villaurora living nativity might be just the ticket.

‘I’d be happy to tag along,’ she said.

‘Yay!’ the children chorused.

‘Are you sure?’ Piero glanced at her.

‘Sure as I’ll ever be.’

And so, an hour later, she found herself strolling through the streets of the village, hand in hand with Gigi on one side and Teresina on the other, while Piero brought up the rear.

The narrow roads provided the perfect setting and atmosphere to reproduce the ancient town of Bethlehem at the time of Jesus’s birth. Villauroresi, dressed in biblical costumes, were going around offering food and wine to adult visitors, candies to the children, accompanied by musicians playing Christmas music on their Sicilian bagpipes.

Jess spotted Giovanna and Angelo up ahead, and her heart sank. But she couldn’t avoid greeting them, and it wasn’t as bad as she’d thought it would be. Their boys were with them, and Jess introduced Binnu and Turiddu to Piero before they all went for a coffee in the Bar Centrale.

‘It’s good to see you, Jess,’ Giovanna said. ‘Are you here for long?’

‘Only until the third of January, unfortunately.’ Jess caught Piero’s eye. ‘But I hope to come back soon.’

* * *

The next morning, Piero’s father stepped into the kitchen, his face wearing a serious expression. ‘Can I have a word with you, son?’ he said. ‘In private.’

Piero went with him and, worried, Jess busied herself with the children’s breakfast. She made them hot chocolate, into which they dunked brioches and left-over panettone.

When Piero came back, Jess asked if anything was wrong.

‘I’ll tell you later,’ he said. ‘When we’re alone.’

Jess’s mouth turned dry. Something bad had happened, judging by the look in Piero’s eyes.

She helped Gigi and Teresina gather up their belongings and take them down to their grandparents’ car. Gaetano and Valeria would drop them off at their mother’s in Palermo before heading home to Mondello.

‘Thank you for such amazing Christmas food,’ Jess said to Valeria after the children were settled. ‘I enjoyed every mouthful.’

‘You’re very welcome, my dear.’

Valeria hugged her, and Gaetano did likewise. Within minutes, it was Fabrizio and Cristina’s turn to say goodbye. Damiano had to be persuaded to stop running around with Cappero and get into their car.

‘He’s a handful,’ Cristina whispered to Jess as she kissed her on both cheeks.

Jess kept silent on the topic. The child appeared to be a more than a little hyperactive, to say the least. She’d only seen him sitting still while eating.

‘Christmas with you all has been wonderful,’ Jess said. ‘Have a safe journey home!’

Piero came up and took her hand after his brother had driven off in a cloud of dust.

‘Let’s go have a coffee,’ he said.

Up in the kitchen, he placed the percolator on the stove while Jess loaded the breakfast plates into the dishwasher. She tried not to let her nerves show – she’d guessed she was about to get some bad news, and could only pray that no one was seriously ill.

Piero poured them both a mug, pulled out a chair, and beckoned her to sit with him.

‘Oh, Piero,’ she said when he gazed at her. ‘Is it… is it your dad?’

‘No, amore , my father is fine. It’s about Dinu.’ Piero placed a hand on hers.

‘Dinu?’ Her heart was suddenly racing as she imagined him breaking out of jail and coming for her…

‘I’m sorry to have to tell you this.’ Piero squeezed her fingers. ‘Your great-uncle is dead.’

‘Dead?’ she gasped.

‘Papà received a phone call this morning. The facts aren’t totally clear yet. From what he could tell me, it appears Dinu has been murdered.’

‘I thought he was in a maximum-security prison—’ Jess’s blood froze.

‘He was taken to hospital for some tests. It seems to have happened there.’

‘But… but… why was he killed?’

‘To have survived as long as he did, he must have had powerful protectors who colluded with Cosa Nostra. Perhaps someone was afraid he knew too much. He was a prolific note taker. Every request he granted, every recommendation for an employee or a political candidate, every guarantee he made, is logged somewhere. When he went on trial, he might have ended up dragging others down with him.’

Jess struggled to find the right words. She should have been devastated by her great-uncle’s loss, but she wasn’t. The man who caused the rift between her mother and her grandmother, the man whose actions meant Jess never got to know her Sicilian family, the man who’d scared the living daylights out of her, was finally no more.

‘I’m relieved he’s gone,’ she said. ‘I hope you don’t think I’m being cold-hearted.’

‘You’re not being cold-hearted at all, tesoro . If I were you, I’d be dancing around the room.’

She laughed ruefully, and Piero laughed with her.

‘I’m still baffled by how everyone thought he was dead, when he was running Cosa Nostra in secret,’ she said.

‘My father told me the authorities now suspect he was pretending to be a pensioner and living in Palermo for years. It was only when the anti-Mafia police found the notes he’d sent to his collaborators that they realised he was still alive.’

‘And, of course, the Friends of the Friends protected him,’ Jess said.

‘What would you like to do today, the last day of 2005, my love?’ Piero asked after they’d talked a little more about Dinu and had finished their coffees.

‘How about we go up to the baglio?’ She didn’t need to think twice. ‘It’s about time, isn’t it?’

‘Have you brought the key with you?’

‘Yes. Just in case.’

‘Let’s go, amore mio .’

* * *

Rain sheeted across the valley while Piero drove Jess towards Villaurora. She kept her eyes fixed on the distant hills, swathed in clouds, and soon they’d arrived at the farmhouse.

The rain had stopped and sunshine glistened in the puddles as she pulled the key from her coat pocket and unlocked the rustic wooden door. It swung open, and she stepped into the courtyard. A melancholic lump caught in her throat, and she gave a heavy sigh.

‘What’s wrong, amore ?’ Piero asked.

‘I’m feeling sad about the tragedies that happened to my grandmother. She loved the baglio so much.’

‘Well, we owe it to her to make this a happy place.’

‘I agree.’ Jess nodded. ‘Will there be time to get in touch with Domenico, your builder, before I go back to Bristol?’

A smile spread across Piero’s handsome face.

‘I’ll phone him as soon as we return to the tenuta.’

Which is what he did.

* * *

There were enough Christmas leftovers to feed an army, so Piero and Jess didn’t need to cook. They had lunch on returning to the winery, spent a lazy afternoon in bed making love, and then they took Cappero for a walk.

Shortly before midnight, Piero uncorked a bottle of Melita Brut and said, ‘I hope you don’t mind this being such a quiet New Year’s Eve, my love.’

‘It’s absolutely perfect.’ She clinked glasses with him. ‘Happy New Year, my darling.’

‘Talking about happiness. Would you be happy living in Sicily full time?’ Piero took a deep breath. ‘I mean, Bristol is such a vibrant city. You would probably miss it a lot if you moved here?—’

‘That would depend on under what circumstances I’d be living here.’ Jess glanced at him.

‘I love you, amore .’ He took her hand. ‘You’d make me the happiest man alive if you agreed to marry me.’

Her heart sang, and joy flooded through her. She put down her glass and went into his arms.

‘Are you sure? I can’t have children, remember.’

He lifted her chin and kissed her.

‘We could adopt a brother and a sister for Gigi and Teresina, if you like.’

‘Oh, yes, please.’

Happy tears trickled down her cheeks, but then she remembered the baglio and her grandmother’s hope that she would find happiness there.

‘I’d like to keep the farm,’ she said. ‘It’s my heritage.’

‘Of course. We’ll renovate it and use it for friends and family to stay in and, sometimes, a bolthole for ourselves.’

‘It appears you’ve got this all figured out.’ She smiled. ‘Have you also found me a job for when I resign from the bank?’

‘Well, now that you mention it, I might be needing a new bookkeeper in the not-too-distant future. The one I have currently has just given notice that she’s expecting a baby and won’t be returning to work after her maternity leave.’

‘That might not be enough time for me to get the proper qualifications to work in Sicily.’ Jess couldn’t help a wry chuckle.

‘I’ve thought of that, too. I’ll hire a temporary accountant until you’re ready.’

Jess laughed, laughed with pure delight. It was as if a heavy weight had been lifted from her shoulders. This was where she was supposed to be – with Piero. She could look forward to a much brighter future with him than without him, and she told him so.

‘Does that mean you agree to be my wife?’ He gazed into her eyes.

‘I more than agree to be your wife, Piero. I love you and want to spend the rest of my days with you.’

He pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her head.

‘I want that, too, amore ,’ he said.

* * *