Koločep
Natali began the climb from the quayside to the upper reaches of the village.
Although in the bay below the morning sun caressed the water making it sparkle, at this hour the path was shaded.
A woman she knew by sight greeted her from the terrace where she was drinking her coffee, and further on a baby’s thin cries drifted through closed shutters, but otherwise all was quiet.
“Well, Obi,” she sighed. “Who would have thought this week would be here so quickly?” Obi looked up, wagging her tail.
She didn’t know their lives were about to change again.
Well, maybe not immediately. With the extra work Ana had secured they’d be living and working on Dida Krila for the best part of another six weeks, but without Lloyd and the routine of the library, it would feel awfully strange.
But what then? That’s what she needed to decide.
The three of them had talked about it long into the night, this way and that, and she’d exchanged countless messages with Krasna in recent days too, about what it was really like to care for someone who was dying.
It wasn’t fair to keep Dina hanging on any longer for her answer, even though the thought of giving her a final yes or no made Natali feel sick inside.
Perhaps Baka’s garden was not the best place to reach her final conclusion, because she and Obi loved it so much it would surely sway her, but as long as she was aware of that…
And anyway, even if she did come down on the side of offering to look after Baka, there was still a Mateo-sized hurdle to overcome.
Dina had said she would handle it, but given his attitude up until now, Natali wasn’t so sure how successful she’d be.
If nothing else, she had a practical reason to come here: to water the vegetable patch and pick the glut of tomatoes and aubergines Baka was fretting about.
They’d be eating the most wonderful veggie pasta tonight on Dida Krila, and tomorrow perhaps she’d make punjeni patlid?ani if she could find some beef to stuff them with.
The thought of all that cooking cheered her. As did the thought of Obi having a blissful half-hour or so running around under the trees, which was absolutely her favourite thing.
As she opened the gate to the steep track down to Baka’s garden, she noticed how quickly the lemons and mandarins were ripening beneath their shining leaves.
They wouldn’t be ready for another month or so, yet Natali’s mouth was already watering at the thought of being able to pick them.
She hadn’t told Baka at the time, but before the day they’d made the ajvar she’d never picked anything from a plant in her life, and there’d been something perfectly thrilling about it.
At the bottom of the path, she freed Obi from her lead and watched as she zoomed off to the far corner of the citrus grove, a tiny tan and black shape bouncing between the trunks.
Turning towards the house to collect the watering can, she stopped in her tracks.
There, sitting at the table outside the back door, was Mateo.
“When I saw the dog, I thought it might be you,” he said.
“I’ve c-come to water and pick some vegetables. Baka said…” She trailed off. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”
“I didn’t either.” His voice was heavy, sad.
“Is anything wrong?” She could have kicked herself the moment she said it. Of course there was – his mother was dying. She hung her head. “Sorry.”
Time stretched between them. Neither spoke, neither moved. She should call Obi and retreat. She should get out of Mateo’s space, before she annoyed him. She didn’t want to annoy him, not at all. His good opinion could matter so much for her future.
Did that mean she’d made her decision? Was her choice to care for Baka, after all?
“I can come back later,” she ventured.
“No, no. We should talk, anyway.” He smiled a very small smile. “Because until I know your thinking, there is little point in me continuing with mine.”
She nodded, although she suddenly felt a little shaky. “M?me too.”
“Coffee?” Mateo asked. Natali shook her head. “Then at least come and sit down.”
Natali slid onto the other chair and folded her hands in her lap. Mateo gazed into the trees, although she wasn’t exactly sure he was seeing them. He cleared his throat.
“I know my duty to my mother. My duty is to look after her, if possible in my own home. But my wife has made me question whether it is, indeed, possible.” Another silence. A long one. A bird sang nearby, trilling a couple of octaves above the putter of a boat in the bay below.
Finally, Natali ventured to say, “So you have come here to work it out.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Just between us, my wife has sent me. But also there are practicalities to consider if my mother is to return home. Adaptations to the house to make it safe.”
Natali’s stomach clenched. He was thinking about it, after all.
This would make such a difference to Baka.
“Small ones, I think, would make it possible. Handrails where there are steps to the terrace and into her bathroom. I do not think she should come downstairs without help, but I worry she might try to put flowers in Valentin’s room. ”
“Ah, yes. Valentin.”
“It must be … difficult for you.”
“He could do no wrong in her eyes.” Mateo shrugged. “It is the way these things are sometimes, but it made me determined not to make that mistake with my girls. And now Dina tells me that I am, by not giving Petra the same chance to study as her sister had. I do not want that to happen.”
“You said my thinking affected yours. Does that mean if you cannot look after your mother, you would like me to?”
“It is a solution that would please her, but you are not a carer. You told me you work on yachts.”
This was awkward. Very awkward. Had Dina come clean about their discussion? It was impossible to tell, so best to say nothing.
“I’m right, aren’t I?” he persisted.
Natali nodded. “But I have been thinking too. My work is seasonal, unpredictable. I’m twenty-two years old, so that has to change, but I will need better qualifications.
If you decide you want me to move in here and look after Baka, I could study as well, so the arrangement would suit us all.
With certain…” What was the word Lloyd had used? “P-provisos in place.”
“And what might they be?”
“I will need internet. And also … every so often I’ll need a couple of days off. So I can stay with my friend to have a proper break.”
He nodded. “That doesn’t seem unreasonable. I was thinking about internet anyway, so my girls can video call their grandmother. Anything else?”
Only the elephant in the room. When would he tell her that his mother was dying? Should she pretend that someone in the rehab centre had let it slip? Yes, that was a solution. If he wasn’t man enough to say it, then she certainly had to.
“It’s not as though it’s long term, is it?”
He shook his head. “Which makes it harder. I want her to be with me for these last months. I want her to know I care, that I am a good son after all. But the irony is that in making her come to Split I would not be a good son. Or a good father.”
“She knows you’re a good son. She once said to me that Valentin may hug her, but you make sure her cupboards are well-stocked. She said that you show your love in different ways.”
He lifted his fingers and squeezed the bridge of his nose. “Oh.” It was a small word. Neutral. Yet full of feeling. “Oh.”
“Your mother is a wise woman.”
“And so, Natali, are you. Wise beyond your years.” Certainly nobody had ever called her anything like that before. Even in these serious circumstances, it was hard not to grin from ear to ear. Just wait until she told Lloyd and Ana!
Natali watched as Obi scampered towards them, panting, and flopped next to her feet. Mateo stood. “I’ll fetch her some water.”
“That would be kind. You like dogs?”
“Petra’s allergic so I try not to get hairs on my clothes, but yes. Yes I do.”
“So would it be a problem, Obi living here? Because if so—”
“Mama would be very disappointed if she didn’t. Somehow we will manage Petra.” He turned at the back door. “If you say yes, that is.”
Once Mateo had gone, Natali leant down and fondled Obi’s ears.
“So what do you think? Shall we commit?” It wouldn’t be easy.
She’d been over it again and again, with Lloyd especially.
How tough it was caring for someone who was dying.
How much it hurt when they finally slipped away.
And Krasna had had an angle too, having helped to look after her father at the end.
But Krasna had also been adamant she’d be there to support Natali. She would be there as her friend.
The hum of cicadas filled the trees in the citrus grove, the bay glistening a silverish turquoise between the branches as Obi nestled closer to her legs.
She’d been dreading this week, when the library books came back and didn’t go out again, but now she could see it wasn’t only an end, but a beginning, too.
A new beginning for each of them. Different lives, which had been beyond their imaginations just ten weeks before.
And if Ana and Lloyd were prepared to dive straight in and give it a go, then so was she.