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Authors: Susan Lewis
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thinking.’
Since he didn’t ask what about, she continued to dry herself as he started to shave.
Everything was so normal on the surface, so relaxed and as it usually was on a Saturday morning, yet somewhere behind this veil of benign preoccupation she couldn’t help getting the sense of something being awry. Perhaps it wasn’t him. In fact, it was probably her, since she was absorbed by the upcoming trip to Italy, which she’d yet to tell him she’d confirmed, and by what her mother might have been hiding all these years. She was even asking herself again, as she had through Alessandra’s illness, if keeping secrets for so long had been responsible, at least in part, for bringing on the cancer.
How terrified her mother had been when she’d realised the seriousness of her condition. Lainey had been too, though she’d done her best not to show it. Perversely, it had also been a time of joy for her, since Alessandra had turned to
her
in her hour of need. It was the first time she’d ever felt truly special to her mother, and though they hadn’t exactly grown close during the turbulent years that had followed – or not close enough for Alessandra to answer all the questions Lainey desperately wanted to ask – it had soon become clear that it was only Lainey who could fulfil her mother’s needs. Not that Alessandra ever admitted to that, she had far too much pride to allow anyone to think she couldn’t manage alone. However, as time had gone on and the deadly disease in her womb had spread to other parts of her, she’d become fretful, almost panicked if Lainey was too long away from her side. Whether she ever worried about how difficult it was for Lainey to watch her suffering Lainey had no idea, but what she did know was that there were times when she actually seemed to feel her mother’s pain. It hadn’t only been physical, though heaven knew that had been hard, she’d also felt the anguish and fear that had gripped Alessandra as her inner demons rose up to torment her.
‘It’s not your fault,’ she’d told Lainey one day in a voice that had barely rasped from the clouded depths of her. ‘It was never your fault.’
Lainey had soothed the crinkled skin of her cheeks. ‘What wasn’t?’ she asked gently.
Alessandra’s eyes were haunted, distant, dulled by pain. ‘What happened . . . What they did . . .’ she whispered. ‘I’m sorry, Elenora. Can you forgive me? Please say you forgive me.’
Realising the words were opening small gateways into her past, Lainey held her mother’s hand tightly as she said, ‘Of course I forgive you, but I wish you’d tell me . . .’
‘No, don’t ask. The shame is not for you to bear. Forget them, Elenora. They are nothing to us now. Just take care of Daddy. Promise me, you’ll take care of him.’
‘You know I will.’
Alessandra’s smile had been more of a grimace. ‘I need to sleep now,’ she whispered. ‘S
tai con me mentre dormo
.’ Later Lainey had learned that this meant, stay with me while I sleep.
Her mother had spoken Italian often during her final days, but because she’d always refused to allow Lainey to learn the language Lainey had been unable to understand anything more than the cries of ‘
Nonnina, Nonnina.’
It was hearing her calling for her grandmother at the end that had wrenched the hardest at Lainey’s heart. Who was Alessandra’s grandmother? What had happened to tear them apart? Why had no one from Italy ever come to find their daughter, sister, niece, wife?
Tom’s voice broke into her thoughts. ‘You’re still frowning,’ he told her, tapping his razor on the side of the bowl.
Lainey’s expression lightened. ‘Just going through things for this evening,’ she hastily improvised. It wasn’t that he minded talking about her mother, it was simply that she really did need to start focusing on the day ahead. ‘I’m trying to remember who’s supposed to be arriving when, who’s staying the night, which stall
Since he didn’t ask what about, she continued to dry herself as he started to shave.
Everything was so normal on the surface, so relaxed and as it usually was on a Saturday morning, yet somewhere behind this veil of benign preoccupation she couldn’t help getting the sense of something being awry. Perhaps it wasn’t him. In fact, it was probably her, since she was absorbed by the upcoming trip to Italy, which she’d yet to tell him she’d confirmed, and by what her mother might have been hiding all these years. She was even asking herself again, as she had through Alessandra’s illness, if keeping secrets for so long had been responsible, at least in part, for bringing on the cancer.
How terrified her mother had been when she’d realised the seriousness of her condition. Lainey had been too, though she’d done her best not to show it. Perversely, it had also been a time of joy for her, since Alessandra had turned to
her
in her hour of need. It was the first time she’d ever felt truly special to her mother, and though they hadn’t exactly grown close during the turbulent years that had followed – or not close enough for Alessandra to answer all the questions Lainey desperately wanted to ask – it had soon become clear that it was only Lainey who could fulfil her mother’s needs. Not that Alessandra ever admitted to that, she had far too much pride to allow anyone to think she couldn’t manage alone. However, as time had gone on and the deadly disease in her womb had spread to other parts of her, she’d become fretful, almost panicked if Lainey was too long away from her side. Whether she ever worried about how difficult it was for Lainey to watch her suffering Lainey had no idea, but what she did know was that there were times when she actually seemed to feel her mother’s pain. It hadn’t only been physical, though heaven knew that had been hard, she’d also felt the anguish and fear that had gripped Alessandra as her inner demons rose up to torment her.
‘It’s not your fault,’ she’d told Lainey one day in a voice that had barely rasped from the clouded depths of her. ‘It was never your fault.’
Lainey had soothed the crinkled skin of her cheeks. ‘What wasn’t?’ she asked gently.
Alessandra’s eyes were haunted, distant, dulled by pain. ‘What happened . . . What they did . . .’ she whispered. ‘I’m sorry, Elenora. Can you forgive me? Please say you forgive me.’
Realising the words were opening small gateways into her past, Lainey held her mother’s hand tightly as she said, ‘Of course I forgive you, but I wish you’d tell me . . .’
‘No, don’t ask. The shame is not for you to bear. Forget them, Elenora. They are nothing to us now. Just take care of Daddy. Promise me, you’ll take care of him.’
‘You know I will.’
Alessandra’s smile had been more of a grimace. ‘I need to sleep now,’ she whispered. ‘S
tai con me mentre dormo
.’ Later Lainey had learned that this meant, stay with me while I sleep.
Her mother had spoken Italian often during her final days, but because she’d always refused to allow Lainey to learn the language Lainey had been unable to understand anything more than the cries of ‘
Nonnina, Nonnina.’
It was hearing her calling for her grandmother at the end that had wrenched the hardest at Lainey’s heart. Who was Alessandra’s grandmother? What had happened to tear them apart? Why had no one from Italy ever come to find their daughter, sister, niece, wife?
Tom’s voice broke into her thoughts. ‘You’re still frowning,’ he told her, tapping his razor on the side of the bowl.
Lainey’s expression lightened. ‘Just going through things for this evening,’ she hastily improvised. It wasn’t that he minded talking about her mother, it was simply that she really did need to start focusing on the day ahead. ‘I’m trying to remember who’s supposed to be arriving when, who’s staying the night, which stall
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