elderly woman, ‘and your mother, Flavia, were childhood friends,’ he said. ‘As you must know.’
Tess shook her head. She might as well come clean. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I didn’t know that.’ She smiled at Santina who smiled back.
‘Ah, yes. She talks about it often,’ he went on. ‘They played together as girls. The families … They were very close.’ He made a gesture, the little fingers of each hand linked. She noticed that he wore a gold signet ring initialled GES.
‘Oh, I see.’ Hence the effusive greeting. Tess smiled again at the old woman.
‘So … ’ He shrugged. ‘My father was a good age when he married my mama.’
Ah. ‘Right …’ At over forty, her mother had given birth to Tess late in life – at least by Sicilian standards. Giovanni would have expected Flavia’s daughter to be a bit younger than his father. But in fact Giovanni and Tess were of a similar age.
Santina was talking again. Giovanni cocked his head to one side as he listened to her, a slight frown on his handsome face. His skin was a dark olive, his eyes brown. Handsome, but maybe a little cold, she guessed.
‘My aunt wishes to enquire after the health of Flavia, your mother?’ he said, rather formally, when Santina was done.
Tess nodded. ‘She is well.
Grazie
.’
Santina seemed satisfied. For a moment a faraway look crept into her wrinkled dark eyes, and then she went over to the stove where the coffee was steaming and poured the thick black liquid into a small cream cup. She placed this in front of Tess and stood watching until she felt compelled to take a first sip.
‘It’s good,’ she said. And it was. ‘
Bene. Grazie
.’ That had to be all her Italian used up. But at least if she could smile andnod and thank people, she wouldn’t be thought impolite, just stupid perhaps.
Giovanni fetched a black jacket from a hook outside the kitchen door and pulled it on. ‘When you are ready,
Signurina
,’ he said. ‘Or
signura
?’ He looked pointedly at her left hand.
‘I’m not married,’ said Tess. They certainly got quickly down to the nitty-gritty around here.
‘
Bene
,’ he said.
Bene
?
‘I will take you to Villa Sirena.’ He held out one hand, palm up, and looked expectantly at his aunt. Santina produced two keys from the pocket of her apron, one big, one small. She placed them reverentially on his palm.
His fingers closed around them and he nodded. ‘
Allora, andiamo
.’
‘Great.’ Tess swallowed the last of the coffee and got up. ‘
Grazie
.’
Santina stepped forward to take Tess’s hand, holding it as if she wanted to say something or as if she didn’t want to let it go. Then Giovanni spoke once more and she kissed Tess on both cheeks, squeezed her shoulders and finally released her. But as Tess followed Giovanni Sciarra from the house, she was aware of the tiny woman in black watching them from the doorway. She seemed kind enough, though it was hard to believe her a contemporary of her mother’s. Tess sighed. If only Muma had given her some clue about the people in this place. She didn’t know who had been her friends, who herenemies. She had no idea whom to trust. But she wasn’t in any kind of danger here, was she? She’d only come to look at a house. Her house.
Once alone with Giovanni, she felt a little self-conscious. ‘Is it far?’ she asked, ‘only my bags are back there in the car … ’
‘
No
.’ He pointed down some steps, towards a piazza. It was almost dark now, but she could make out a stone archway and some benches. ‘It is down here, beyond the
baglio
. I will take you there and come back for your things.’
Oh. ‘There’s no need … ’ she began, but he raised a hand to silence her. She followed him meekly down the steps. Here in Sicily, men clearly accepted their right to unquestioned authority. So perhaps she wouldn’t challenge it. Not today anyhow.
‘The
baglio
,’ he announced, as they went through the deep archway that sheltered a
Tess shook her head. She might as well come clean. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I didn’t know that.’ She smiled at Santina who smiled back.
‘Ah, yes. She talks about it often,’ he went on. ‘They played together as girls. The families … They were very close.’ He made a gesture, the little fingers of each hand linked. She noticed that he wore a gold signet ring initialled GES.
‘Oh, I see.’ Hence the effusive greeting. Tess smiled again at the old woman.
‘So … ’ He shrugged. ‘My father was a good age when he married my mama.’
Ah. ‘Right …’ At over forty, her mother had given birth to Tess late in life – at least by Sicilian standards. Giovanni would have expected Flavia’s daughter to be a bit younger than his father. But in fact Giovanni and Tess were of a similar age.
Santina was talking again. Giovanni cocked his head to one side as he listened to her, a slight frown on his handsome face. His skin was a dark olive, his eyes brown. Handsome, but maybe a little cold, she guessed.
‘My aunt wishes to enquire after the health of Flavia, your mother?’ he said, rather formally, when Santina was done.
Tess nodded. ‘She is well.
Grazie
.’
Santina seemed satisfied. For a moment a faraway look crept into her wrinkled dark eyes, and then she went over to the stove where the coffee was steaming and poured the thick black liquid into a small cream cup. She placed this in front of Tess and stood watching until she felt compelled to take a first sip.
‘It’s good,’ she said. And it was. ‘
Bene. Grazie
.’ That had to be all her Italian used up. But at least if she could smile andnod and thank people, she wouldn’t be thought impolite, just stupid perhaps.
Giovanni fetched a black jacket from a hook outside the kitchen door and pulled it on. ‘When you are ready,
Signurina
,’ he said. ‘Or
signura
?’ He looked pointedly at her left hand.
‘I’m not married,’ said Tess. They certainly got quickly down to the nitty-gritty around here.
‘
Bene
,’ he said.
Bene
?
‘I will take you to Villa Sirena.’ He held out one hand, palm up, and looked expectantly at his aunt. Santina produced two keys from the pocket of her apron, one big, one small. She placed them reverentially on his palm.
His fingers closed around them and he nodded. ‘
Allora, andiamo
.’
‘Great.’ Tess swallowed the last of the coffee and got up. ‘
Grazie
.’
Santina stepped forward to take Tess’s hand, holding it as if she wanted to say something or as if she didn’t want to let it go. Then Giovanni spoke once more and she kissed Tess on both cheeks, squeezed her shoulders and finally released her. But as Tess followed Giovanni Sciarra from the house, she was aware of the tiny woman in black watching them from the doorway. She seemed kind enough, though it was hard to believe her a contemporary of her mother’s. Tess sighed. If only Muma had given her some clue about the people in this place. She didn’t know who had been her friends, who herenemies. She had no idea whom to trust. But she wasn’t in any kind of danger here, was she? She’d only come to look at a house. Her house.
Once alone with Giovanni, she felt a little self-conscious. ‘Is it far?’ she asked, ‘only my bags are back there in the car … ’
‘
No
.’ He pointed down some steps, towards a piazza. It was almost dark now, but she could make out a stone archway and some benches. ‘It is down here, beyond the
baglio
. I will take you there and come back for your things.’
Oh. ‘There’s no need … ’ she began, but he raised a hand to silence her. She followed him meekly down the steps. Here in Sicily, men clearly accepted their right to unquestioned authority. So perhaps she wouldn’t challenge it. Not today anyhow.
‘The
baglio
,’ he announced, as they went through the deep archway that sheltered a
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