Chapter 16
‘I hear there has been a problem with your property?’
It’s the mayor.
‘Yes.’
‘Ah, I see,’ he says, as he peers through the window.
There’s a silence.
‘I’m sorry,’ he says. ‘I wish there was something I could do to help.’
‘You could give me more time to do up the house … so I don’t have to find the extra money.’
He shakes his head. ‘I wish I could. But your husband had the house for a very good price. And I can’t change the rules for one person. It must be done up, either to sell it at market value or live in it.’
‘I understand. It wouldn’t be fair,’ I say, sighing.
‘But if you meet the deadline, decide to live in it,’ he raises an eyebrow, ‘there will be no further costs. Or …’
‘I’m going to be selling. I need to go back to the UK, with my children,’ I tell him firmly.
‘I see. Well, I’m sorry to hear that. The longer you stay in one place, the more it starts to feel like home.’ He wishes me a good day and walks up the hill towards La Tavola.
I open the door to the house and stare at the mess.
I think about what the mayor said. I need to get help. And to leave soon.
I have a shower and wash the remaining dust from my hair and eyes. He’s right: the more you stay put, the more it starts to feel like home. But this isn’t my home. Not mine or Marco’s. I want to leave.
Back at La Tavola, washing-up is in full swing.
‘How was Sunday lunch?’ I ask Giovanni, feeling refreshed after my shower.
‘Good. We had a decent turn-out, not all of the residents but lots. Even the mayor came. It was busy. We nearly ran out of pasta.’
‘I can see you’re needed here.’
‘I am. Well, La Tavola is. Without it, I don’t know what many of the villagers would do. They wouldn’t see anyone all week.’ Giovanni is wiping his hands and I notice a burn mark across his palm. ‘Even the mayor said how much it’s needed,’ he adds.
‘That’s good.’
‘Well, it would be if he could do anything to help,’ Giovanni says. ‘But he can’t. The only thing he can do is try to sell off more houses to people who think they can find their dream life in the sun, then maybe put some money our way when they realize they can’t complete the houses.’
I feel, again, as if I’ve been slapped.
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean … Really, I didn’t mean anything by that.’
‘It’s fine. You’re right. I think for just a little while I could see why people would want to do this, why they’d fall in love with this place, leave their worries behind and start again.
A blank canvas. Marco wanted this for us when we got older, but what if he’d been alive now?
I could see him wanting to be here, enjoying la dolce vita .
Dreaming of a life away from the one we were living.
He never did things slowly. He’d have wanted to up sticks and move out here.
’ I give a little laugh. ‘But living here would have been a pipe dream. You can’t run away from your problems. They have a habit of turning up when you least expect them. ’
The children look at me and then at each other, as if sharing a thought.
I take a deep breath. ‘I’ll do it.’ I nod firmly and give Giovanni a tight smile. He raises a questioning eyebrow. ‘What you said earlier. If you’ll still do it.’ I swallow. ‘I’ll help here if you’ll help with the plastering.’
‘Okay,’ he says slowly.
Again, the children look at each other.
‘Just for a few weeks. For as long as it takes to sort out the house. But I need it all done by the end of August. It has to be valued and put on the market then.’
‘Okay, so you’ll help here at La Tavola and I’ll do the plastering at Casa Luna.’
I nod. ‘And help with the decorating, if possible. Also, I need to find someone who can deal with the garden.’
‘Fine. And, just checking, do you have any experience in this field? Kitchens, looking after the place?’
I’m not sure if he’s teasing me, but the children seem to be enjoying the exchange.
‘Mum ran our restaurant, La Cucina.’
‘She ran the whole shebang!’ says Aimee.
‘Dad did the cooking, and Mum ran the orders, business and front-of-house,’ Luca continues. ‘Until the rent got too high.’
‘And the shit hit the fan,’ says Aimee. We all stare at her and Pietro laughs.
‘You sound very qualified to step in when I’m not here. There are plenty of other helping hands. But if you’re happy to take up the reins?’
I take a deep breath. ‘I wouldn’t call it happy, but I’m happy to be getting the house sorted and if that means helping here … then I’ll do it. I’ll take in the deliveries, do the Friday dinners and Sunday lunches.’
‘And be here if anyone needs just somewhere to be? A coffee, or cacio e pepe ?’ He grins.
‘Or a glass of wine,’ adds Luca.
‘All of those things.’ I manage a smile at the memory of our first day here.
‘Everyone is welcome at La Tavola,’ says Giovanni. Again, I think how warm he makes me feel: he’s like a rejuvenating ray of early morning sunshine in the garden.
‘Even the lasagne nonna s?’ asks Luca.
‘Particularly the lasagne nonna s. They may be lonelier than the rest of us,’ says Giovanni, and something inside me shifts, softens and draws me towards this man, teaching my children an important lesson in life.
But, we’re just here until the house is renovated and I can sell it to get back to the UK.
And look for a new job. Maybe I could manage a restaurant for someone else.
Where did that idea come from? I can’t go back to doing that as a proper job. I return my attention to Giovanni.
‘So, do we have a deal? You’ll do the building work on the house?’
He looks at me, curly hair framing his face, and nods. ‘And you’ll take over here, organize the food and the menu?’
I take a huge breath. I’ll be back in the kitchen, the one place I said I’d never go.
I think about the staff I had to lay off when La Cucina closed, vowing I’d never put myself in that position again, that I’d never go back into a kitchen now that Marco was no longer in it.
The last thing I want is to be reminded of everything we lost but I have to do this if I’m to make any of this work.
‘I will,’ I say. ‘I can mind the shop, no problem.’
‘Then we have a deal. I have to finish at Alessandro’s nonna ’s but I’ll be at Casa Luna on Tuesday.’
We nod at each other.
‘Right, back to work, everyone. There’s lots of clearing up to be done before we have gelato .’
Luca and the other children cheer, apart from Pietro who smiles and jumps about with them.