Chapter 21
CHAPTER 21
CASALTA, 17 APRIL 1985
LUCREZIA
It seemed there was nobody home. I would have liked to sit on the stone stairs for a little while and bask in the day I’d had with Vanni, but the drizzle had turned into rain, fat drops of water bouncing on the ground, on the roof, tapping on the windows. I lit the living room fire, taking advantage of Matilde’s absence. Had she been there, she would have insisted on doing it for me. I sat with my legs bent under me and watched the flame.
The Tuscan twilight, framed in the windows, took my breath away. The rain added a dreamy quality to the landscape, and filled the room with a calm blue light.
I thought of Vanni’s expression at the restaurant table, his shame and powerlessness after he’d almost fallen… the only dark moment in a day full of light. I longed to take that darkness away for him, to show him that he was not less of a man because of the accident, but more . A man who overcame such an ordeal – the fear and pain he must have felt, not to mention the worry for his father. And then adapting to a whole new life, physically and mentally. If anything, I was in awe of him.
Everything about him, his voice, his mannerisms, his expressions, were as familiar as if we’d grown up together. Everything stirred memories in me, snippets of conversations, moments of long ago that had been stored somewhere deep inside me. Free from layers and layers of defences, my heart was so much easier to read, my thoughts so much clearer, that I couldn’t live a lie any longer.
I knew that I had to speak to Claude, and it wouldn’t be Vanni we discussed, but us . Our relationship felt empty, and not because I’d seen my old best friend, and my sisters as well. It was because I’d been reminded that I could feel deeply, that life didn’t have to be kept in shallow waters so that I would not be hurt. But because here, away from my life in Paris, I could finally see how hollow I’d become, how I’d settled for a loveless relationship and an endless work schedule to distract me from life itself. No, how I’d searched for a loveless relationship so that I would never be hurt again the way my father hurt me. But now, I needed more, I wanted more.
Claude deserved to know. But… a phone call? I had to tell him in person. When I went back to Paris. When I left Casalta, and Tuscany, and went back to my life.
The idea wasn’t as appealing as I had imagined it would be.
I’d dreaded coming back. I’d dreaded seeing my sisters, and facing the toxic mixture of anger and love and regret and sense of abandonment I’d experienced around my family, around this house. Seeing that corridor, the glass doors I’d gone through as a child, the garden where my mother had appeared to me, the place I’d left thinking I would return the day after, and instead I wasn’t allowed to go back to.
But the sweet hills outside the window, the lilac sky, the outline of cypresses against the evening light; the stone houses with their terracotta tiles, the scent of this land, made by the unique mixture of our flora, our trees, the castles and churches that spoke of our history… all this went beyond my own story or the story of my family; it went beyond and deeper than the happenings of life. All this was home.
Paris, my flat on that pretty road, in that cream-coloured building dotted by wrought-iron balconies, seemed so far away. Like a dream that never happened. I should have missed Claude at least; I should have been thinking about him and wondering what he was doing – would this not have been normal, for two people in a relationship, two people who loved each other?
But there had been no missing him, or thinking about him before now. It seemed that the entirety of our relationship was enclosed in my work diary, the one where I recorded our business and social commitments. I could even picture it, the thick black book where my whole life was scheduled and blocked off around our engagements. We weren’t really a couple. We were a team, a team that was successful, efficient… but loving, not so much. Surely there was more to life than that, at twenty-four years of age?
More to life than a frozen heart, made to work around a schedule.
The dancing flames gave a warm glow to my hands and legs, a halo of light in the room that was getting gloomier and gloomier. Where was everyone? I supposed Nora was at the stables and Mia painting. Matilde had probably gone home, and Bianca was in the village or somewhere in its surroundings, visiting people in need.
‘Anyone home? Lulu?’ Bianca called out, coming in with her hair damp with rain. ‘Oh, I’m still not used to seeing you here! Every time I… I… Oh, Lulu !’ She ran to me and hugged me tight. ‘I still can’t believe you’re back.’
‘Me neither!’
I suppose twins are used to looking at each other’s faces and seeing themselves reflected, but after so many years of absence it was a new feeling for me; and from the way Bianca was staring at me, blinking, it was the same for her.
‘Coming home and seeing you here, as if all these years haven’t passed…’ She took her jacket off. She sat on the rug, her legs tucked on one side. My sister always looked graceful, like a china figurine.
I leaned forward and rested my elbows on my knees. ‘How was your day?’
Bianca sighed. ‘My day was good; you know I love what I do. But the co-op never has funds to pay our wages. Which didn’t matter, until now. We all received an allowance from Father, and that was how I kept the service afloat. I pay Renata’s wages… she’s my colleague… I bought food, medicine, schoolbooks, anything the people we assist need. Now…’ She shrugged her shoulders.
‘We’ll find a way.’
‘We? You’ll go back to Paris, won’t you? I don’t even know when I’ll see you again… Oh, sorry. I put a dampener on everything! Let’s not think about that. I don’t want to think about that at all. Did you have a good time with Vanni?’
‘Yes. It was… good,’ I said, trying keep my tone light. But separation or not, she was my twin. She could still read me.
She spoke, looking into the flames. ‘I’m so sorry you had to be away from him for so long. Before you left, I saw things were beginning to change between the two of you. You blushed when you talked about him. It was a childhood friendship, but it was turning into something more.’
‘I know. That letter you wrote me, the one where you said you saw Vanni at… at our tree.’
‘He was so sad, Lulu. His mother is always away, she and Signor Orafi didn’t get on at all. I wished I could have helped him.’
I knew this was the right moment. I had to ask.
‘Bianca… Do you… Did you have feelings for Vanni?’
Bianca’s mouth opened in a little ‘O’. ‘Do I… What made you think that?’
‘I don’t know… when you sent me that letter, saying the two of you had met at our treehouse, I became convinced…’
‘But that was to talk about you! He needed to know about you! Oh, Lulu, you got it all wrong. All wrong.’
And yet.
‘But there’s something going on between you and the Orafi brothers. I saw Lorenzo’s picture in your room. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to put you on the spot. It’s just that if you need to talk, well, I’m here. I’m here now.’
‘I know. Thank you. But please, Lulu. Let it go.’
She seemed genuinely pained, and I did what she said. I let it go.
For now.