Page 5 of The Girl from Sicily

5

JESSICA, JUNE 2005

The next day, after spending the morning at the pool and making herself a late lunch, Jess prepared to go out. She packed the digital camera she’d treated herself to before leaving Bristol and the bottle of red wine she’d bought yesterday, then headed to where she’d parked her rented Fiat. She glanced up as Stefania came through the wide door.

‘I’m glad I’ve caught you,’ Stefania said. ‘Would you be free tomorrow evening? You’d be a bit of a guinea pig, I’m afraid. Piero is planning to open a restaurant for our guests and we’re trialling a tasting menu.’

‘ Grazie. That would be lovely.’ Jess didn’t need to think twice.

‘Good. Piero’s brother, Fabrizio, and his brother’s wife, Cristina, are visiting from Monreale and will join you.’

‘What about Piero’s wife?’ Jess risked the question that had been at the back of her mind since she’d met him.

‘His ex-wife, you mean?’ Stefania shook her head. ‘Eleonora lives in Palermo with their two children. She never visits, but Teresina and Gigi love it here. They’ll be coming to stay for a few days during the summer vacation.’

‘How old are they?’

‘Gigi is ten and Teresina seven. They’re fantastic kids.’

Stefania stared pointedly at the ring on Jess’s finger. She should remove it, she supposed, but hadn’t got round to doing so yet.

‘I’m getting divorced,’ she said, and left it at that.

Stefania blushed and apologised for staring.

‘It’s okay,’ Jess said, and it was. She’d stopped fretting months ago. ‘Well, I’d better get going.’ She took her car keys from her bag. ‘Thanks again for the invitation. It’s very kind of you to think of me.’

‘Piero insisted. And he stressed I ask you to give your honest opinion on the food.’

Stefania waved her off and soon Jess was following the same route she’d taken yesterday to Villaurora. Instead of cutting through the centre of the village, however, she carried on driving and presently she arrived at the dirt track leading up to the baglio.

She parked in front of the building, grabbed her bag, and went to open the big wooden door. But before doing so, she stopped to gaze at the view. The village hugged the slope further down, its narrow streets forming a grid-like pattern. She counted twelve parallel roads descending, criss-crossed by six vertical ones. The valley below appeared practically devoid of human habitation. Only a few farmhouses were dotted here and there.

Would she enjoy living in such a desolate place?

It’s certainly peaceful…

A fresh breeze had sprung up and cooled the skin on Jess’s bare arms as she turned the key in the lock. Her chest squeezed with anticipation and she stepped inside.

* * *

After a couple of hours wandering around, taking photos and imagining the various outcomes of a restoration project, Jess was still no closer to arriving at a decision about her inheritance. She leant against a doorframe, and her chest hitched as she felt a little overwhelmed and in need of advice.

But who could she ask?

The walls between the eight rooms were so thick, it would be hard to knock through to make them bigger. But why would she want any larger rooms? She would only come in the summer and the courtyard itself would provide a gorgeous outdoor area. A Judas tree planted in the centre and some parasols for shade, perhaps? Tables and chairs for alfresco meals. One room had an old-fashioned kitchen that would require updating. And the bedrooms needed en suite bathrooms. The list was daunting, to say the least.

All the while, she carried on wondering why her grandmother had left her the baglio. There had to be a valid reason. Something momentous must have occurred for her mum, Carula, to cut herself off from her family and not even speak about them to her own daughter. Maybe Nonna was hoping to mend bridges?

Jess returned her camera to her bag. She’d see if she could spot Angelo, and Giovanna should be here soon. After locking up, Jess made her way around to the back of the building, where a man was hoeing the earth between rows of crops.

He waved and came towards her. Of medium height, with a broad face and a full head of thick, dark hair, he introduced himself.

‘ Bona sira . Sono Angelo.’

‘ Piacere .’ Jess held out her hand.

But he didn’t shake it.

‘I need to wash,’ he said with a bow. ‘Sorry.’

‘No problem.’ She smiled.

There was a standpipe at the edge of the field, and he went to rinse his fingers under a stream of water.

‘Giovanna should be here any minute now,’ he said.

As if on cue, the rumble of a motor echoed from down the road. Giovanna’s car juddered to a halt and she wound down the window.

‘ Ciao , Jess.’ Giovanna greeted her as Angelo got into the front seat. ‘We should park near the village church as our street is too narrow. Follow me!’

Jess did as instructed and, about ten minutes later, she squeezed her Punto into a tight spot a couple of cars behind Giovanna’s. Grabbing the bottle of wine, she stepped onto the pavement.

‘For you,’ she said, handing her gift over to her cousin.

Giovanna thanked her, then led her across the square to the steep road she’d seen yesterday. The pavements on either side were wide and stepped, and it would be impossible for two vehicles to pass each other in between, let alone park. They entered a two-storey house, the top floor fronted by a bulging balcony of swan-neck railings.

Binnu and Turiddu were lounging on the sofa inside the front room, playing some kind of video game. After getting to their feet, they introduced themselves before going back to what they were doing.

‘Let’s go through to the kitchen,’ Giovanna suggested. ‘I can put the pasta on while we have a drink.’

Looking as if it dated from the 1970s, the room – filled with the aromas of fresh basil, rosemary and sage – appeared spacious with avocado-green cabinets, harvest-gold-coloured plastic chairs around a beige laminate-topped table, and a brown ceramic-tiled floor.

‘Take a seat,’ Angelo said, pulling out a chair for Jess. ‘Can I offer you a glass of white wine?’

‘I’d better not, as I’m driving.’

‘Oh, we don’t bother about such things in Villaurora,’ Giovanna said from where she was standing by the stove.

‘I’d love some cold water.’ Jess gave her a smile.

Angelo fetched a bottle from the fridge and poured her a glass. An awkward silence ensued, and Jess searched her mind for a neutral topic of conversation. But Angelo obviously had no qualms about addressing the elephant in the room.

‘Have you decided to accept your inheritance?’ he asked without preamble.

‘Not yet.’ Jess collected her thoughts. ‘I know you have a vested interest and I can assure you that I’m happy with the way things are. I mean, that you continue to farm the land.’

‘We’d appreciate something in writing,’ he said. ‘Perhaps you could lease the terrain to us for a nominal rent?’

‘I’m sure I can arrange that, if and when the time comes.’

‘Good.’ He nodded, and a smile creased his broad face.

* * *

After an amazing meal of pasta alla norma (maccheroni with a tomato, aubergine, salted ricotta and basil sauce) followed by arancini (deep-fried rice balls stuffed with minced meat) and a fresh green salad dressed with olive oil, Jess declared she couldn’t manage another mouthful.

‘That was truly delicious,’ she said. ‘You’re an excellent cook, Giovanna.’

‘She’s not bad.’ Binnu, the eldest of the boys, wiped his mouth with a serviette.

‘Can you get Sicilian food in England?’ Turiddu made direct eye contact with Jess.

‘Not as good as your mum’s,’ she said.

Throughout the meal, her youngest cousins quizzed her about life in the UK, declaring their ambition was to leave Villaurora as soon as they’d finished school and maybe try to get jobs in London.

‘All our young people are leaving the village.’ Angelo poured Jess another glass of water. ‘There’s no work for them here.’

‘I was wondering why the streets are so empty.’

‘In the old days, Sicilians would emigrate to America for employment. Now they go to places like Milan and Torino. Or further afield to England.’

‘There’re plenty of opportunities in the UK if you’re prepared to work hard.’ Jess chose her words with care. She didn’t want to give the boys false hope. ‘Especially in the big cities.’

‘We would do that,’ Binnu affirmed. ‘Work hard, I mean.’

Giovanna rose from the table to do the dishes, and Jess went to help her while Angelo and his sons headed for the front room to watch TV.

‘Your boys are a credit to you,’ Jess said as Giovanna handed her a tea-towel. ‘You must be so proud of them.’

‘They keep out of trouble, unlike some.’ Giovanna flipped her hair back from her face.

‘I was interested in what Angelo said about Sicilians emigrating to America.’ Jess took a plate from Giovanna and wiped it dry. ‘I’m completely in the dark about my grandmother’s family. All I know was that she came from Sicily. It was only when a lawyer contacted me that I found out the name of this village.’

‘I too find it strange that we knew nothing about you until a couple of months ago.’ Giovanna handed Jess another plate. ‘I never met Lucia in person. She went to America before I was born.’

‘Was her husband Sicilian?’

‘I don’t know, Jess. All I know is that he passed away some time ago. My parents looked after the baglio for her and, when they got too old, Lucia wrote to me and asked if Angelo and I could take care of it. We also have a smallholding on the other side of the village, so it made sense to farm your grandmother’s land as well. She was happy we could do so, even bought us some new machinery.’

‘Does she have any other family in Villaurora besides you?’

‘My grandmother was her youngest sister. There was a brother too.’ Giovanna stared down at her hands. ‘He’s no longer with us.’

‘What was his name?’

‘I don’t know.’ Giovanna shook her head. ‘Sorry I can’t be more helpful.’ It was as if the shutters had come down.

Jess carried on helping until all the plates were washed and dried. She told Giovanna about her English family. While her father was a Bristolian, born and bred, Jess grew up in Cheshire, where her parents both worked in the animal pharmaceuticals industry. Her father was one of four children and Jess’s uncles, aunts and nine cousins all lived in Bristol. She hadn’t been back to Cheshire since her parents’ funeral.

‘My condolences,’ Giovanna said. ‘I’m sorry for your loss.’

‘A lorry driver was on his phone, apparently. He ploughed into Mum and Dad’s car. They didn’t stand a chance.’

‘How terrible!’ Giovanna’s eyes widened.

‘I still miss them so much,’ Jess said, her voice trembling.

‘What about your husband?’ Giovanna touched her hand to Jess’s arm.

‘I don’t want to dwell on it,’ Jess said, after unburdening herself and recounting the whole sorry Scott saga. ‘The baglio is like a new chapter in my life. I feel as if it’s helping me, somehow.’

‘So, you think you’ll keep it?’ Giovanna glanced at her. ‘Isn’t it too remote for you here?’

‘It is in the middle of nowhere, I agree, but that has its attractions. I can forget all about my busy life in England and truly relax.’

Giovanna seemed about to say something, but shrugged instead.

‘I’d better make tracks for the tenuta,’ Jess said, knowing when she’d overstayed her welcome. ‘It’ll be a tricky drive in the dark.’

Giovanna took her through to the front room, where Angelo and the boys got to their feet to say goodnight. Everyone kissed each other on both cheeks, Italian style, and Angelo saw her to the door.

‘Would you like me to walk you back to your car?’ he offered.

‘I’ll be fine, thanks. I’m hardly likely to get mugged in Villaurora.’

Angelo chuckled at her joke, and she laughed along with him.

‘ Buona notte ,’ she wished him goodnight.

‘ Bona notti ,’ he responded in Sicilian.

She walked down the road and crossed the square, taking a moment before getting into the car. Above her, with the lack of light pollution, the sky billowed with billions of stars. Peaceful was the first word that came to her. This might be the middle of nowhere, but she couldn’t help being captivated by its beauty, just like her grandmother must have been all those years ago.