Page 4 of The Girl from Sicily

4

JESSICA, JUNE 2005

By the time Jess got up from the lounger, the falcon she was watching had disappeared. She remembered reading that the raptor’s aerial agility and speed symbolised freedom, and the ability to navigate life’s challenges with grace and precision. What an amazing bird!

She left the pool area as Cappero, the dog, bounded up to greet her. A tall, bronzed man glanced up from where he was pruning leaves from the vines as she strolled past. Could he be Stefania’s boyfriend? Jess recalled she’d told her he worked in the vineyard.

An image of her soon-to-be ex-husband flashed into her mind. She’d met Scott at uni, where they’d both been accounting and finance undergraduates. Fair-haired and blue-eyed, he’d attracted her from the start with his cheeky northern humour, his confidence and his intelligence. The two of them were more than a bit nerdy; they’d bonded over their love of Star Trek , as well as their shared core values of working hard and respecting others.

Sadness scratched in Jess’s throat. She’d always thought they had integrity in common too, but that was not the case. Jess had been devastated when she’d found out Scott had gone behind her back and was seeing a colleague at the accounting firm where he’d recently been made a partner. The fact that Kimberly was already pregnant had put paid to any hopes she might have had of salvaging her marriage. She gave herself a shake, refusing to let the hurt and betrayal fester.

‘Good boy,’ she said to Cappero and continued walking, the Labrador snuffling along in front.

Reaching the door to her accommodation, she turned to gaze at the view. The beauty of her surroundings was like a balm to her soul. Scott wouldn’t have liked it here – he’d have considered it too remote. His idea of a pleasant holiday was a fortnight at an all-inclusive resort, which they’d barely leave for the duration. In the early days of their marriage, she used to enjoy the rest and relaxation, especially when they were trying for a baby. But latterly, she’d yearned to go somewhere more interesting.

Well, she’d certainly come to the right place for that. Stefania’s potted history of the conquerors of Sicily had made Jess realise how ignorant she was about the island, and she was looking forward to learning more about it.

She stepped into the cool of the cottage and went to open the fridge. A platter of cold meats and cheeses graced the middle shelf, along with a bottle of Tenuta Sacca Chardonnay, Bianco Sicilia DOC . She retrieved the food and drink, then found a bottle opener in the top drawer.

The flavour of apples and lemons tingled on her tongue. The wine was delicious, but she restricted herself to just the one glass. She’d need her wits about her tomorrow when she drove up to Villaurora. Jess thought about the woman she’d be meeting, the woman who had the keys to the farmhouse. Giovanna Alessi was her second cousin.

What’s she like? Jess wondered.

* * *

The next morning, when Jess awoke, it was already very warm, with high temperatures forecast. After a cooling shower, she picked out a pale green t-shirt and khaki shorts. Armed with her first coffee of the day, she booted up her laptop. It was a slow connection, but eventually she found the email Giovanna had sent her with details of the time and place where they would meet.

After munching on a couple of slices of bread with butter and strawberry jam, Jess set off. The narrow winding road took her through miles and miles of olive groves and vineyards, and she marvelled at the rose bushes planted at the ends of the rows of vines, their bright colours contrasting with the verdant plants. Before too long, she’d reached the bottom of the vale and the signpost for Villaurora.

Grateful for the air-conditioned car, she motored past small farms – one-storey houses with tracts of cultivated land. The stubble of newly harvested wheat fields painted the countryside a pale-yellow colour. The strada climbed steadily, looping through the ever-present bamboo thickets, vineyards and olive groves. The wide valley spread out below, and she could see the rolling hills behind the Sacca estate.

Wild. Primitive. Beautiful.

The strada switched back on itself in looping bends, lined with the ubiquitous grey-green prickly pear cacti and yet more farms. Soon Jess spotted another road sign. Villaurora C. Presuming it pointed to the centre of the village, she took the indicated turn.

A couple of low-rise modern apartment blocks, with washing hanging from balconies, faced the strada to her left. On her right, a house displayed a shrine built into the wall, where a crucifix hung above a vase of flowers in front of an image of the Virgin Mary.

Jess’s chest tightened in anticipation as she drove up a road with pink oleanders on either side and a clock tower at the far end. The piazza would be just beyond, where Giovanna had said she’d be waiting in the Bar Centrale.

After finding a parking space for her car, Jess stepped into the heat and headed for the square. She found that it was built on a type of platform, with stairs leading up to it and the small church. A steep street rose from the middle, pavemented with a series of broad steps. Jess crossed the piazza. A woman was sitting at a table outside the bar, and she approached her.

‘Giovanna?’ she asked.

‘ Sono io .’ It’s me. ‘ Ciao , Jessica.’

Giovanna looked just like she’d described herself in her email. Her hair was mid-length, curly and dark brown, and she was of slim build. She’d told Jess that she was in her early forties, but Jess thought she appeared younger.

‘Would you like a coffee?’ Giovanna asked in Italian.

Jess replied that she’d prefer a glass of water. The warmth of the morning had made her thirsty.

‘We can get you one inside,’ Giovanna said. ‘Then we’ll go straight to the baglio.’

* * *

Surrounded by olive trees that hid it from the road, the farmhouse perched at the top of a short dirt track below the pointed fever-chart crags towering above the village, appearing to have been dropped from space onto the hillside. The small, low white building with a terracotta-tiled roof featured a big rustic wooden door in the centre. She parked out front and, while Giovanna produced a key to unlock the door, a feeling of excitement stirred in the pit of Jess’s stomach.

They went inside. Bare beige stone walls lined the square structure, which was built around a central atrium like the Sacca’s main building. But the property her grandmother had left her was much smaller, of course. Jess remembered the solicitor had referred to it as a baglio contadino , meaning peasant farmers had once lived there. Eight doors opened onto the paved courtyard, two on each of the four sides.

‘Are they locked?’ Jess asked her cousin as she went to try a handle.

‘No. We keep the farm equipment inside.’

‘Is this a working farm, then?’ Jess took a step backwards in surprise.

‘Your grandmother asked us if we could work the land, in return for keeping an eye on the place,’ Giovanna said. ‘So that’s what my husband, Angelo, and I do. Besides the olive trees, we grow lentils, tomatoes, chickpeas and beans.’

‘Wow! How big is the farm?’

‘Twenty-five hectares.’

It suddenly occurred to Jess that Giovanna would probably inherit the baglio, if she herself decided not to accept it. Nonna had put her in a difficult position, for sure. Why had she left it to her, the granddaughter she’d never met? Jess felt an overwhelming need to find out.

‘I’m grateful you and Angelo have been taking care of things.’ She glanced at Giovanna. ‘It’s good that you’re farming the land. I hope you’ll want to carry on doing so in the future? I mean, I know nothing about farming?—’

‘So you’ve decided you want to keep the place?’ Giovanna’s tone came across as curt.

Jess shook her head, slightly put out by the directness of the question.

‘I haven’t made up my mind yet. After I’ve spent some time here mooching about on my own and weighing up the pros and cons during the three weeks of my holiday, I hope to come to a decision.’

‘Angelo is away today, but he’ll be back tomorrow.’ Giovanna folded her arms across her chest. ‘You can have supper with us at our house in the village and meet our two boys after you’ve come here, if you like.’

‘I was hoping to find more family in Sicily.’ Jess smiled. ‘How old are your sons?’

‘Bernardo – we call him Binnu – is seventeen. And Salvatore – Turiddu – is fourteen.’

‘I love their Sicilian names.’

‘Our language is in decline, unfortunately. The youngest generation prefers to speak Italian.’

‘Oh, that’s a shame.’ Her grandmother had undoubtedly spoken nothing but Sicilian, back in the day. How she wished she could have met her.

Jess turned a door handle and peered inside. A small tractor and trailer were surrounded by various agricultural attachments. They must have cost a pretty penny. The next door opened into an empty room. Jess couldn’t wait to explore the rest of the baglio at leisure. She asked for a key, and Giovanna handed her a spare set.

‘Angelo will be here all day tomorrow,’ Giovanna said. ‘But he’ll be out on the land and won’t disturb you.’

‘I’m looking forward to meeting him.’

‘I usually pick him up at around six o’clock.’ A smile crinkled Giovanna’s mouth. ‘See you then!’

Feeling like she’d just been dismissed, Jess asked for directions to the nearest grocery store.

‘Follow me back into the village. I’ll stop outside the shop and point it out to you.’ Giovanna checked her watch. ‘I’m sorry to be in such a rush, but I need to get home and make lunch for my boys.’

That’s put paid to me having a wander about the baglio on my own today , Jess sighed to herself.

* * *

Later, following a quick meal of juicy ripe tomatoes and mozzarella cheese back in her cottage, Jess decided to go for a swim. After changing into her tankini, she put a towel from the bathroom cupboard into a bag along with a bottle of factor 30 and a book. She slipped her feet into a pair of flip flops, found her sunglasses and headed outside.

Tiled in blue, the pool had been built into the hill on one side, with high stilts below the other. As soon as Jess got down there, she deposited her things on a lounger and dived in. As she swam a leisurely breaststroke towards the far end, she truly had the feeling that she was on the way to infinity.

This is such bliss , she thought. I could stay here forever. She remained in the pool until the tips of her fingers turned as wrinkled as prunes.

The decking scorching her feet, she ran back to the lounger. The sun had burnt her while she was ploughing up and down in the water, so she unfurled a big umbrella and positioned herself under it.

She settled her sunglasses onto her nose and opened her book. But it was impossible to concentrate. Her thoughts filled with her first impressions of Villaurora, the baglio and her cousin.

The village itself, apart from the oleander-lined street leading into the centre, seemed rather nondescript. Certainly not a location to entice tourists. Inside the bar, the few tables looked as if they’d seen better days, and the grocery store appeared to only sell the bare essentials.

The baglio, however, was another matter. She’d felt immediately at home there, and could imagine that lovely paved courtyard adorned with potted geraniums. The rooms opening onto it could be restored and would make a perfect place to invite family and friends to spend their holidays.

But she was getting carried away, she told herself. She needed to go back there several times at least, maybe even get quotes for restoration work, before she made up her mind. Hopefully, her grandmother’s trust fund would cover the cost of that.

As for Giovanna Alessi, there was something ‘off’ about her. The directness of her questions, the curt tone of her voice. She could have prepared lunch for her boys prior to meeting Jess. After all, it wasn’t every day one met a long-lost cousin. But then, said cousin had inherited the property which provided her with an income. Giovanna and her husband had probably been expecting it to come to them. Jess exhaled a slow breath. She couldn’t fathom why her grandmother had left it to her and not them.

Cappero came into the periphery of her vision. He flopped down on the grass at the edge of the decking, panting, and wagged his tail apologetically that he hadn’t ventured across the hot wooden slats to greet her.

But it was the appearance of someone else approaching that made Jess startle. She caught sight of the tall, bronzed man she’d seen working on the vines the day before. Lean and toned, dressed in swim shorts, he walked towards her. Stefania’s boyfriend appeared older than Jess had thought he’d be – possibly in his early forties, given the slightly receding light brown hair and the crinkles at the corners of his hazel eyes. He stopped in front of her sunbed and held out his hand.

‘I’m Piero Sacca,’ he said. ‘I hope you’re enjoying your stay with us, Mrs Brown.’

Jess extended her hand to shake his. But that didn’t happen. Instead, he placed his hand under hers and brushed a whisper-soft kiss to her knuckles.

‘Please, call me Jess,’ she said, abruptly withdrawing her hand. ‘And yes, I’m enjoying my visit here very much.’

Men in Italy only kissed married women’s hands. It was a gesture of respect, but the practice had almost died out, and so Piero’s gesture had taken her completely by surprise, and she could feel her cheeks flaming.

‘I hope I’m not disturbing you, Jess.’ He placed his towel on the sunbed next to hers.

‘Of course not.’ She smiled. ‘This is your pool, after all.’

‘Indeed.’ He smiled back at her, turned and executed a perfect dive into the deep end.

She watched him swim a fast crawl, his muscular arms breaking the surface in a steady rhythm. Conscious that she was staring, she picked up her book and attempted to read. Except, the words on the page weren’t half as interesting as Piero Sacca.

Her phone bleeped. A text from her cousin, Mel, asking how she’d got on today.

The baglio seems to have potential. I’ll let you know more tomorrow after my second visit.