Chapter 39
The church bells of Sant’ Agata chimed eight o’clock. Leo was now ten minutes late, which wouldn’t have been so bad if Amy hadn’t been ten minutes early.
People were streaming into the piazza from all directions, eager to attend the evening’s entertainment.
Three young women passed by, a gaggle of long legs and laughter.
An elderly man in a pressed shirt, hands clasped behind his back, moved slowly in the direction of the stage.
He looked an unlikely fan of the heavy rock mixed with a dose of seventies punk they were promised.
But judging by some of the elegant outfits being worn by the women of the village, this was an evening for seeing and being seen as much as for listening to the music.
The girl on the pink bicycle was circling the church again despite the crowds.
A man snatched a toddler out of her way and popped him on his shoulders.
Amy recognised him as Mario from the pizzeria, here with his grandchild, and gave him an awkward smile.
Did it look as though she’d been stood up, hovering here?
‘Amy!’ The sound of Leo’s voice made her jump. He’d changed out of his overalls into a light blue shirt, the sleeves rolled up, revealing those muscular arms again. His hair was half mussed up, his breath coming fast, as though he’d been running.
‘Leo!’ Relief surged through her. She melted into his hug, inhaling his fresh-from-the shower scent.
‘So sorry I’m late. I went to meet you and got caught up with Nonna.’
‘I thought we said to meet here.’
‘I was early so I thought I would catch you before you left the house.’
‘I was early too.’ They stood smiling at each other.
‘You look great, by the way, I love that top,’ he added.
‘Thanks. Was Fernanda okay when you left? You look a bit flustered.’
‘She is now. She was in a bit of a state when I arrived. She’d mislaid some trinket of her sister’s.’
‘I’m always mislaying things.’ Amy laughed.
‘Nonna never normally loses anything, she’s so tidy and careful.’ Leo frowned. Someone patted him on the shoulder and his smile returned. ‘Ciao!’
‘Ciao, Leo.’ A boy with a leather jacket over his arm, despite the warm evening, gave him a half salute and looked Amy up and down. He said something in Italian with a cheeky grin and wandered off; she didn’t like to ask what it was. Leo made a disapproving noise.
‘Sorry about that guy. He used to date my sister, they got together one school holiday. I haven’t seen him for an age.’
‘I can’t believe it’s so busy here. I hadn’t realised this band was so popular.’ The crowd around the stage was now at least ten people deep and it was impossible to see what snacks the formidable army of local ladies were serving up, there were so many people thronging around the trestle tables.
‘It doesn’t matter much who the band are. People here just like a night out, whether it’s rock, some guy in a wig singing ballads or our local brass band.’ Leo smiled. ‘It looks like the whole village is here.’
‘Except for Stella and your dad.’
‘Stella is a nice lady but I’d rather not think about those two being alone together in my house whilst I’m out.’ He pulled a face.
Amy laughed. ‘Do you think we’ll be able to get a beer?’
‘It might be easier now than later.’ He took her hand; they walked towards the temporary bar erected in the far corner. Their progress was slow, Leo stopping every few paces to chat to friends and neighbours. But she didn’t mind when she clocked the pride on his face as he introduced her.
‘How do you know so many people? Didn’t you go to school in Alassio?’
‘I spent a lot of time at Nonna’s in the holidays. Kids here tend to play outside so it’s easier to get to know each other.’
‘I thought Fernanda kept you stuck inside chained to your schoolbooks,’ she teased.
‘I’m glad she did, all those hours studying English vocabulary are coming in very useful.’
‘I should thank her. Maybe I should start learning Italian.’
‘Why is that?’ He gave her that look again, the one that turned the edges of her world all fuzzy.
‘Maybe I’ll come back.’ She felt herself blush.
He bit his lip, looking as if he was going to say something, but a guy with a nose ring and arms tattooed with italic script said something that made him swing around.
‘This is Amy,’ Leo said. ‘Amy, this is Ettore, Black Rat’s bass guitarist. That means he stands at the back and looks moody.’
Ettore frowned, obviously not quite understanding what Leo was saying. ‘Like some cuculli? I have plenty.’ He handed Leo a paper cone of fried snacks. Amy could smell sage and rosemary.
‘They’re like chickpea fritters,’ Leo said to her, popping one in his mouth.
‘Sure, great, I’d love some,’ Amy said.
Ettore gave her another cone, high-fived Leo and slapped him on the shoulder. ‘Ciao ragazzi!’
Ettore didn’t take long to weave his way through the crowd.
He was up on the stage two minutes later, a black and white electric guitar slung round his neck.
A big man with a black T-shirt shouted uno, due, tre, into a microphone.
Another man leapt onto the stage, his hair slicked back, a white shirt open to the navel.
He fired out a string of rapid Italian. The audience responded with clapping and a few cheers.
The drummer dropped his head, the singer grabbed the mic with both hands, twisting his body as he launched straight into a cover version of ‘I Fought the Law’.
The lead guitarist whirled his arm in a circle, strutting across the stage like he was playing at Wembley.
Amy finished the last of her cuculli, her fingers greasy with oil and salt.
She found a tissue and gave them an inadequate wipe.
The band played one rocking track after another. Even the songs they had written themselves got the villagers dancing. Teenagers leapt around, some playing air guitar, young mums swayed behind their pushchairs, couples bopped.
The lead singer said something Amy couldn’t catch. A murmur of appreciation rose from the crowd.
‘They’re going to play some old rock and roll,’ Leo said.
Amy recognised the first bars of ‘Jailhouse Rock’ straight away.
Next to her, an elderly lady in a crocheted cardigan took dainty steps in her high-heeled shoes, singing along in a surprisingly gusty voice.
The band switched to a Chubby Checker number.
Mario from the pizzeria started doing the twist, holding hands with someone who looked like his father.
The older chap got right down to the floor, needing his son to yank him back up again.
Leo swung Amy around until she was quite dizzy.
The MC jumped back on stage. It seemed it was time for a break. The band laid down their instruments. The ladies behind the trestle tables braced themselves for a surge of hungry dancers.
‘Another beer?’ Leo said. They joined the throng around the makeshift bar.
It must have been at least twenty minutes before they were served.
Finally, they extricated themselves from the mass of bodies clutching much-needed bottles of Peroni, just in time for the second half.
The lead guitarist was already back on the stage.
Amy chugged back some beer and fanned herself with her other hand.
‘Got a bit warm?’ Leo said.
‘Yes.’ She undid a couple of buttons on her short-sleeved blouse, hoping she wouldn’t leave a greasy mark. Her fingers made contact with her precious coin. It had felt right to wear it on such a special evening. On stage, the drummer sat down and picked up his sticks. Somebody whooped.
‘What is that?’ Leo’s voice sounded odd, as though someone was squeezing his throat. He was staring at her necklace.
‘It’s an old one-lira coin. Grandpa left it to me.’ She put her hand to her chest, feeling strangely vulnerable under his searching gaze.
‘Your grandpa’s necklace, is that so?’ He raised his eyebrows.
‘Why are you looking at me like that?’
Leo didn’t reply. Someone knocked into Amy’s back, sending her flying into him. He didn’t look amused.
‘Scusi!’ a teenage girl laughed, whirling away again.
‘We’re leaving,’ Leo said.
‘Let’s not go just yet.’ Amy’s feet itched to dance. She grabbed Leo’s hands to swing him around but he wouldn’t budge. Why was he being so boring all of a sudden?
‘Amy, we’re leaving. We’re going to see Nonna.’
‘Oh, okay, if you want.’
He led her through the crowd and down the street. She had to half jog to keep up with him.
‘What’s the rush? Why are you in such a hurry to see Fernanda?’
He made a kind of snort. ‘I thought you might have something you want to say to her.’
Amy stopped walking. ‘Look, Leo, I don’t know what’s got into you. I thought we were having a good time. Why are you being so funny with me?’
He flicked his finger against the coin hanging around her neck. ‘Why did you take it? To have a souvenir of your trip? I can’t believe you’d do this to my nonna when she’s been so kind to you.’
She stared at him. ‘Are you accusing me of stealing this?’
‘What do you think? My nonna loses her sister’s precious necklace and a few hours later it turns up around your neck.’
‘I can’t believe this!’ Amy marched off in the direction of Fernanda’s house as fast as she could, her eyes pricking with angry tears. ‘You might as well hurry up. The sooner we see Fernanda, the sooner she can tell you this isn’t hers.’
* * *
‘I was not expecting you back so early.’ Fernanda looked from Amy to Leo and back again.
‘Amy has something to show you.’
Amy’s hand went to her chest. ‘This necklace…’
Fernanda’s eyes darkened. ‘That is mine. It belonged to Violetta. Why have you taken it?’
‘It isn’t yours.’ Amy tried to keep her voice level. ‘Grandpa Lance gave it to me.’
‘You have switched the leather for a chain. Did you think I would not recognise it?’
‘Maybe your sister had something similar but it’s not this. Do you want to look more closely?’
‘Let me see the back. Mine has a curve etched onto the reverse side.’
Amy went cold.
Fernanda reached out a bony hand, her old engagement ring glinting under the hall light. She turned the coin, her fingers pressing against Amy’s chest. ‘It is mine! You stole it!’
‘No! I swear I didn’t.’ She tried to prise Fernanda’s fingers open but the old woman held the coin too tightly.
The only way Amy could loosen Fernanda’s grip was to give her an almighty shove.
But no matter how unjust the accusations were, Amy wasn’t going to have Fernanda’s broken bones on her conscience.
She jerked backwards to try to get away.
The cheap chain snapped. Fernanda’s fist balled around her prize.
‘It’s not what you think.’ Amy looked at Leo in despair. He wouldn’t meet her eyes, looking down at the floor and shaking his head.
‘You’d better go and get your things, the last bus won’t have left yet,’ Fernanda said. ‘Leo will wait while you pack and walk you to the bus stop.’
Amy barged her way out of the hall into her bedroom, her eyes screwed up, desperately fighting her tears.
She opened the wardrobe doors, hurling her clothes into her case any old how.
She swiped everything from the bathroom shelf into her washbag, grabbed her book from the bedside table and yanked out her phone charger.
She checked around quickly. Apart from the rumpled quilt there was now no sign she’d ever been there.
She dumped her case in the hall. Fernanda was waiting by the front door.
‘I haven’t paid for my stay,’ Amy said. She undid the catch of her bag.
Fernanda squared her shoulders. She peered down her nose. ‘I do not want your money. Just go.’
Amy ignored her. She opened her purse and threw a handful of notes onto the hall table. Leo marched out of the door, and she followed him down the road, dragging her case behind her.
Leo walked with her as far as the bus stop. He leant against the window of the salumeria.
‘Why don’t you go?’ Amy said. ‘Why are you waiting here?’
‘I just want to understand. Why did you do it, Amy?’
‘I didn’t. I’ve told you, that necklace is mine. They must be identical. I’m the one who’s been robbed.’
‘I can’t believe you won’t even own up to it. You know something, Amy? I really liked you. I thought… Well, it doesn’t matter now.’
‘Thought what?’ Amy said. She didn’t know if it would make her feel better or worse if he admitted to some feelings for her.
‘I thought I knew you. I thought you were nice, a good person… special. I thought there was something between us. Deep down, I knew it was probably too good to last. But now I won’t even be able to treasure the memories.
’ He laughed and shook his head. ‘You did a good job, Amy. I even found myself searching the local ads for a second-hand potter’s wheel.
Someone in Apricale was selling one. I almost went to get it. ’
‘What for? You really thought I might stay in a boring little village like this? You’ve got to be kidding! Why would I want to do that?’ She dug her nails into her palms, willing him to go away.
He turned around, shoulders slumped, as he set off back towards Fernanda’s.
The tears she’d fought to hold back began to fall.
The bus was due in less than half an hour.
If only it would come straight away. Tonight, she’d find a cheap hotel in Sanremo; tomorrow she’d search for a flight back to England.
The sound of the band thrashing out ‘Rock Around the Clock’ drifted over from the piazza. The villagers would be dancing and singing long into the night.