Chapter 20 #2
I look at the man who, despite everything, cares about how I am. Because my mother cares. She does. With all that’s been going on in her life, she is worried about me. Me, the daughter who never forgave her.
‘She came up with the idea of inviting you to Respiri to spend some quality time with you before she broke the news to you.’
‘I feel so guilty…’
‘Nonsense. Come,’ he says. ‘Let’s get you back to Respiri. I’ll make arrangements for you to come home with us.’
Come home with us. It sounded so foreign to my ears. And yet, I knew that I couldn’t possibly pass up on spending some more time with my mother and this lovely, kind man.
There is so much I want to say, so many questions I need to ask. But the most important thing now is to get my family here to spend as much time as possible with Mum. And Aldo. Unable to speak, I merely nod.
From what I can see, Aldo is, as my dad has always said, an absolute gentleman. He is soft-spoken, kind, generous, so very similar in fact to him that I wonder what he has that my father doesn’t, apart from the money.
Because now, thinking about it, I can’t see my mother as a gold-digger.
It is so blazingly obvious to me now that she loves this man as much as he loves her, and an indescribable emotion pervades me.
I don’t know what it is, but I am moved to see that someone else has loved my mother the way my father did.
I’m also feeling sorry for my father, who’s lost the love of his life to another man, a man whom he has nothing but respect for, as if nothing had ever happened to break his heart.
‘I’m going to call my dad,’ I sniff. ‘Do you want to speak to him?’
Aldo nods. ‘Yes, please, Olivia.’
I dial his number and he answers on the first ring. ‘Livvie? How is she?’
‘She’s okay for now, Dad…’
‘Ohthankgod. We’ll come out on the next flight.’
‘Okay. But… can you please not tell the kids? I want to tell them myself, but not until I see them.’
‘Will do, love. Is Aldo there?’ he asks.
‘Yes, of course. Here, I’ll pass you over to him.’
Aldo takes my phone and listens, nodding. ‘Operation Limoncello underway, George… Okay, then. Call me when you’ve landed.’
‘What’s that?’ I ask when he rings off.
Aldo sighs. ‘It’s the plan to bring all of you back under one roof with your mother.
Your parents and I have been friends for ever, since long before you were born.
And we all decided that if and when one of us was ill, the other two would be there to support them.
So now, as soon as your mother is ready, we’ll all go home to Sicily and spend some quality time together. And have some good family talks.’
‘Okay,’ I say obediently. Aldo inspires true confidence. And he commands respect. With a quick hug and a promise he will be back to pick me up tomorrow for another visit before we all leave together for Sicily in two days, I go to my mother’s hotel room and sob until there’s nothing left inside me.
There is a knock on the door. It’s the Respiri Ladies, who file in one at a time.
Upon seeing what I’m doing, they begin to retrieve stuff from the drawers and help me pack.
They are like family, doing everything that family would.
I know the secrets that would destroy their marriages, and yet they have put their trust in me, simply because I am Susan’s daughter.
In the space of only a few weeks, they have all taught me about freedom and life, silliness and happiness. I am indebted to them all for this.
‘I want to thank you all,’ I whisper. ‘For being my mother’s friends. You have kept up the laughter and she is truly blessed to have you.’
They shush me and hold me, rocking me back and forth as a new batch of sobs comes to the surface.
*
After the Respiri Ladies have retreated back to their own rooms, and the packing is finished, I lie on the bed, exhausted. All I want to do is fall asleep, give in to the exhaustion, but then I hear my phone ringing.
‘Olivia? Finally, I’ve been calling for hours…’
‘Markus,’ I gasp. Just the sound of his voice makes me feel stronger. ‘I’m sorry…’
‘How’s your mum?’
‘Hanging in there,’ I answer, my voice catching in my throat.
‘We’re already at Gatwick, but there’s a problem with the flight.’
That’s all we need. ‘Why, what problem?’
‘Apparently Mount Etna in Sicily is spewing ash. If it gets any worse we’ll have to fly to Palermo instead of Catania, which will add hours to our journey.’
‘Oh my God…’
‘I’ll let you know how soon we can take off. But I’ll find a way. Just hang in there, okay?’
As if he could see me, I nod, unable to speak. ‘Yes,’ I finally manage to say.
‘Okay, honey. See you soon. Stay strong.’
‘I will,’ I promise. I blow my nose and catch a few breaths before I call Simon.
‘Hey,’ he answers immediately. ‘How are you doing? How is she?’
I’m surprised he even cares enough to ask. ‘She’s okay for now. Thanks for letting the kids go,’ I reply.
‘No worries. If you need anything…’
‘We’re okay, thanks, Simon.’
‘Well, I guess I’ll stay here and hold the fort, then…’ he says. It’s the most sensible thing he can master, at this or any other time.
‘Yes, thank you, Simon. I’ll let you know what’s what.’
‘Okay, Olivia. Give your mother my best.’
As if he even knew her. But that’s all on me, I suppose. ‘I will. Thank you, Simon.’
We ring off, and the call has left me sadder than before. Again.
*
Mount Etna has, of course, delayed us a few hours as well. We encounter the dark smoke that has been spewed into the air, but the pilot assures us that the winds have changed and we’ll be okay.
Mum is at the back of the small medic helicopter that Aldo has chartered.
There is a doctor and a paramedic on board.
We are allowed to sit with her provided we don’t press her to speak or to stay awake as she has been sedated for the duration of the trip so as to avoid any further stress on her system.
This is absurd. Two days ago we were all having drinks on the terrace as usual, and now it’s a nightmare.
Up ahead the sky has become black and for a moment I baulk.
I had no idea this could happen, but Mount Etna is immense, taking up the entire view.
As I watch in a daze, the winds blow away the smoke in some places, granting fleeting views of the volcano.
We are far enough to be safe, but close enough to see the plume of smoke that has created a large, dark cloud, almost like a chef’s toque.
At the centre I can barely make out a horrific-looking, huge, gaping crater, ready to swallow you up if you dare to get too close. And then I see nothing more until we touch down on solid ground.
This is my first time in Sicily. I should have come before, when I’d been invited, for all those summers.
I should have come and made light of the situation, while we were all much younger and less vulnerable.
I should never have allowed my family to divide in the summer.
I should have done so many things that I didn’t do. I only hope it’s not too late.