Chapter 24
Oh, if we only knew what’s going on behind people’s smiles: at work, in the street, at a random café.
We are all, to one extent or another, suffering from something.
Bereavement, mental illness, the breakdown of a marriage, the illness of a child.
There is so much in this world that makes us vulnerable.
But if we are kind and understanding of other people’s weaknesses and problems, we can face things.
I think of the woman at McDonald’s the afternoon I lost it.
Her kindness opened a portal to emotions I didn’t even know I’d had, where fragility and a lack of self-confidence blocked everything else to keep me unhappy.
It is a constant battle we are all fighting, sooner or later, in our lives.
A battle against disease or despair. There’s so much to cause us all grief.
And yet, there is also so much to bring us joy: watching my children rolling around in wet sand, shrieking with laughter. Finally sitting and chatting with my mum without any sense of oppression in my chest.
Despite my mother’s illness, I can’t help but feel that the other shoe has dropped, but for the better.
It has brought us all together under the same roof, something that I would have never thought possible.
Most of all, it has brought us closer. It has made me realise that we are all family, no matter how many years or miles separate us.
Aldo and my mother will always be a part of me, and this beautiful home, filled with love, is already giving me some of the best memories I’ll ever have of my family.
It’s not the beauty of the home, though, or the brilliance of the sea, or the fragrance of the salty waves mixed with jasmine and juniper at night.
It’s the sense of calm and togetherness, as if nothing, not even grief, could break us.
For the first time in my life, despite the horrible news of my mother’s illness, I feel so close to her. Gone is the anger and the bitterness that I harboured in my heart, replaced by an immense feeling of love, and belonging – something I haven’t felt for many, many years.
And Cassie: ever since my family arrived she has been surprisingly loving and respectful, linking her arm through mine and asking me how I am when I least expect her to.
Her grandmother’s illness has touched her much more than either of us had expected.
She has grown up, almost overnight, like the maturing fruits hanging on the branches in the orchard outside.
In the afternoon, while everyone is napping to avoid the intense heat, I debate whether to go for a swim. Instead I decide to go for a stroll through the villa’s orchard. Under the vast trees I walk in the shade as a gentle breeze caresses my face and dress.
There are more trees than I can count, of all kinds.
I wouldn’t be able to tell what they are if not for them bearing their ripe, fragrant fruit.
There are cherry trees, pear trees, peach, apricot, figs, persimmons, grape vines with big, fleshy, purple grapes and big, bright green grapes.
I pick one off the vine and pop it into my mouth and, oh, my goodness!
I never knew that fruit could be so tasty!
I can almost taste the sun and the sea in them.
Further ahead is the vegetable patch with tomatoes, courgette, lettuce, onions, potatoes, carrots, leeks, spring onions…
and some plants I’d never seen before in my life.
At the end of the tomato patch is a long trestle table covered in what looks like sun-dried tomatoes.
They are covered in a transparent mesh to keep off the dust and birds, I assume.
I taste this, too, closing my eyes to concentrate.
I actually can taste the sea in them, with their salty, tangy flavour!
Nearby is a row of figs drying out, all strung together, almost ready to be put in mason jars, but I prefer to pluck one, a black one, off the tree. I peel it and dig my teeth into the soft purple flesh and almost swoon.
Up above the magpies are circling, impatient for their turn at the luscious bounty, soon followed by the swifts, which have arrived, hurtling through the air, drunk on the thermals.
I look to the south, on the other side of Villa Gelsomino, where the seagulls are crying.
I never noticed any of this beauty back home, trapped as I was in the daily routine of our life.
Here, in Sicily, you can almost forget yourself as you enjoy the beauty of your surroundings and the very air you breathe as everything around you whispers of the past. And the reason why you had to leave home.
How interesting it must have been for Mum when she came to live here for the first time.
How odd everything must have seemed to her, so different from Old Blighty.
For one thing, she left on a rainy day. I can imagine her touching down in Catania and having Aldo take her to this beautiful home, to the first day of her brand-new life.
I forgive her for abandoning us. I can appreciate now why she felt she had no other choice.
She had to look after herself and Aldo. Sicily must be a cure for all that ails us: its natural beauty, slow pace, never-ending summer lunches under a carob or mulberry tree that lead to naps on a hammock.
*
I can’t keep this going anymore. I have to let Markus go.
It’s not right. I have to tell him. I find him on the side terrace, his favourite place.
There is a small lava rock tabletop painted by Caltagirone artists in brilliant Sicilian colours.
He is sitting in one of the two black wrought-iron chairs facing the sea, his head to one side in thought.
It looks like he’s sinking into the chair.
He looks absolutely forlorn, and despite the fact that I could be mad or hurt, I feel for him.
I just want to give him what he needs and deserves.
He has a right to live his own life with his new girlfriend rather than be tethered to me and all my personal baggage.
He’s done enough for me and my family all these years.
As much as it kills me, I have to let my wonderful, loving, caring Markus, my partner in crime, my wingman, go. Time to let him take his freedom back…
‘I know what’s going on, Markus,’ I declare as I sink into the chair opposite him, my back to the sea.
His eyes dart to mine. ‘And what’s that?’
‘I overheard you talking to Whatsher— Lilja.’
‘Oh. And…?’
‘Well, I think she’s right. It’s time.’
He sits up. ‘What do you mean?’
I shrug. ‘We’ve been friends and business partners for over ten years now, Markus. Let’s be honest with each other. It’s time to move on to the next phase of our lives.’
‘And… you’re ready for that? I mean, you and Simon have just finished, and the kids will be going through a tough time, so…’
‘No, of course I’m not ready. And neither are the kids. But it’s only natural, now…’
‘Are you sure, Livvie? I didn’t want to say anything just now, with your mum like this. I didn’t want to complicate your life.’
‘Complicate? Oh, Markus, my life was all the better because you came into it. I really mean that. And I will always be grateful to you for it.’
And that’s when he reaches over and pulls me to him, taking my mouth in an urgent kiss.
I am so shocked I actually jump in surprise. But I am also instantly brain-dead, except for the fireworks behind my eyelids. I have wanted this forever and ever. I have fantasised this moment in oh-so-many ways.
I have imagined us, lip to lip, body to body, this, happening outdoors, indoors, in the sea, high up on a mountain, at work, while I was looking my best and even my worst in my pyjamas while pigging out on ice cream on the sofa after everyone’s gone to bed.
I did not expect him to kiss me on the mouth, just now, like this!
‘Livvie…?’ he whispers.
‘Hmmm?’
‘Say something. Please.’
I clear my throat. ‘Well, uhm, that was one knee-melter of a kiss. Thank you.’
‘And you kissed me back. Do you know what that means?’
‘That you’re okay with this?’ Because I’m not. I love him and I don’t want to let him go!
He laughs. ‘Yes, because I am crazy about you, Olivia. I have been since I met you at that market ten years ago.’
‘What?’ I almost yelp. ‘You have… those kinds of feelings for me?’ I’m afraid I’ve misunderstood. Transplanted all the scenarios of what I’ve ever wanted to hear all these years right into this one, final conversation. But I haven’t. I know I haven’t.
‘Uh-huh…’ he assures me.
‘Then why the hell do you want to go?’
His dark eyebrows knit. ‘Go? Go where?’
‘Back to Denmark, with Lilja.’
‘I don’t want to go back to Denmark, let alone with Lilja!’ He laughs again, and I feel my confusion deepen.
‘Then what is it that you told her you didn’t have the courage to tell me?’
He throws his hands up in the air with a pained groan. ‘She was urging me to make a stand and tell you about my feelings for you! I love you, you nuthouse!’
In response, I punch him lightly in the chest as if he’d just pulled my leg by telling me I’d won the lottery.
‘I had absolutely no idea!’ I cry out.
‘Because I never told you! I couldn’t, could I?
I consider it. ‘I guess not.’
‘And you?’ he wants to know. ‘Do you have any feelings for me?’
‘Only since the bloomin’ day we met!’ I blurt out and his eyes widen.
‘But I had no idea!’
‘Because I never told you!’ I echo him. ‘I couldn’t, could I?’
‘Shut up…’
‘Seriously! You didn’t know?’
‘How could I? You never gave anything away.’
‘Only because I was – am – married! And I had no idea you were… are you sure you’re in love with me? And not Anya, or Maya, or any of those gorgeous girls hounding you twenty-four-seven?’
He laughs, shaking his head. ‘You never stop, do you? I have been hiding my feelings for so long now. I didn’t think I’d be able to do it any longer. But I couldn’t tell you. Not while you were with Simon. I didn’t want to be your rebound.’