Chapter Sixteen #2
By the time Jade set out to meet Geneva, she was beginning to think Vittoria should have told her she was playing with fire instead of wishing her good luck.
Her palms sweated with more than the effects of the August sun, which blazed down on her uncovered head as she hurried through busy Piazza Volta, where every café was doing good business and tourists had their photos taken with Alessandro Volta’s forbidding-looking statue.
Bar Maria looked as if it could do with updating.
The gold paint of its name on the window was pitted and the red paint of its door had faded to pink.
Despite butterflies trampolining in her stomach, Jade assumed a mask of serenity as she stepped inside.
Remembering Leo’s advice to guard her heart, it felt important not to let Geneva know that she cared even a smidgeon about meeting her birth mother again.
But imagine – she could be seated in Gran’s garden chair reading in the sunshine instead of putting herself through this.
Geneva was already seated at a corner table, back against the wall, her gaze on the doorway.
Her grey-streaked waves were pulled back in a loose ponytail.
It made her look older than Jade remembered from their brief conversation of a week ago.
She threaded through tables of chatting customers enjoying coffee or a snack.
Although they exchanged polite buongiornos, neither made a move to hug, kiss cheeks or even shake hands.
Keeping a lid on her nerves, Jade took Geneva’s order for espresso, collected it and one for herself from a young woman at the counter, and paid.
Around her she could hear mainly Italian, and a burst of laughter from a group of men playing cards.
She returned with the drinks and took a seat. Geneva nodded her thanks and added sugar to her cup. She sipped, then licked her lips and met Jade’s gaze with dark brown eyes, a crease hovering between her brows. ‘You have questions for me, perhaps?’
Jade nodded. ‘While you’re in Como, it seems an opportunity to ask them.’ Her lips felt annoyingly dry and she wished she’d applied lip balm. ‘Do you mind?’
Geneva made a gesture that combined a shake of her head with a shrug. The shrug could mean anything from what do I care? to of course you can. For some reason, Jade saw might as well get it over with.
Discouraged, she fiddled with the empty sugar packet Geneva had discarded on the table. Each of the café’s tables was topped with either white or black plastic. Theirs was black, and sugar crystals glittered on the surface like a tiny galaxy. Finally, Jade began. ‘How did you and Joey meet?’
Geneva’s shoulders hunched, but she didn’t avoid Jade’s gaze.
‘I was a naughty teenager. My aspirational parents were disappointed. They named me “Geneva” after the affluent area in Switzerland and were cross if anyone confused it with the more usual “Ginevra”. They expected a daughter like them, a social climber. It became habit that I defied them. They wanted me to go to university so, of course, I refused. They tried to get me training at a newspaper, so I took a job in a bar.’ She looked suddenly despondent.
‘They thought I’d settle down in my twenties when I married, but my husband, Jarno, worked away, as an engineer.
He was absent and I was largely free from their nagging.
When I met Giovanni – Joey, you called him before – he was seventeen, in his last year of school.
I was a caretaker there, and aged twenty-five. ’
‘My grandmother always called him Joey. Nonno called him Gio or Giovanni.’ Nerves settling, Jade was able to lift her cup without it shaking in her hands. The coffee steam wafted into her face.
The other woman nodded. ‘The first time Giovanni visited my apartment was to help me assemble balcony chairs. A teacher, Alberto, offered, and then he involved Giovanni. The interest between me and Gio . . . it sparked.’ Fresh customers entered and the door rattled.
Geneva glanced at the newcomers, then back to Jade.
‘I said I was naughty, but immature might be a better word. When I saw something I wanted, I grabbed it, without thought for the consequences. So, I loosened a leg of one of those chairs and asked Gio back to fix it – alone, without Alberto. It began then. It would have meant my instant dismissal if we were caught having an affair. But we weren’t caught.
’ Her words came in a steady stream, as if she’d steeled herself to be frank.
She paused, gaze distant, chin propped on her hand.
Jade prompted her. ‘What was he like?’
Geneva’s eyes gleamed. ‘Girls liked him. But the boys not so much, because he was the most handsome, tall, physically mature of his school year. Gio didn’t care for their opinions.
He was an individual. Odd. Quirky. Happy to be alone.
He loved nature and called humans “disappointing animals”, much preferring to be out of the city with the wildlife. ’
‘Really?’ Jade was fascinated, despite herself, seeing a glimmer of why Gran had termed him her fairy child.
‘He used to trek alone for hours around the lake.’ Geneva’s mouth curved.
‘Sometimes, when his parents took him to Villa d’Este, he’d hike up the hills behind and clamber through the Swiss border fence, where cigarette smugglers had made holes, and he’d buy me Swiss chocolate.
The Formula One drivers used to go to Villa d’Este too, and he knew their children, but he was more interested in the lake birds, the deer and boars, or staying up to watch for urban foxes from his bedroom window.
’ She smiled more broadly. ‘Of course, he knew everything about Lariosaurus, the little dinosaur that used to inhabit the lake. I teased him by calling Lariosaurus “mythical” and he’d lecture me on the fossils that had been found, meaning Lariosaurus had lived. ’
‘Oh!’ An old memory snapped to the forefront of Jade’s mind.
‘I wonder if that’s why Gran knew so much about the Lariosaurus.
Nonno bought me a storybook about “Larie” and so Gran sent for one about Nessie – the Loch Ness Monster that’s supposed to be alive in Scotland.
We saw a Lariosaurus fossil at Palazzo Belgiojoso in Lecco. ’
Interest flickered along the lines of Geneva’s face. ‘So?’ Animation fading, she paused to pick the skin around a fingernail. ‘All that knowledge of animals, but, somehow, he was surprised when I became pregnant. Jarno had been away for months, so the baby was Giovanni’s.’
‘Me.’ Jade pointed this out, in case Geneva had forgotten who ‘the baby’ was.
Geneva didn’t acknowledge the barb. ‘He told me he was leaving. And he left.’
Flinching, Jade remembered Leo leaving for the UK. What a thing to have in common with her mother. ‘How did you feel?’ Her voice emerged as a whisper.
‘Unsurprised.’ Geneva rolled her eyes. ‘Before we even got involved, he’d said he’d leave Como soon. He wanted to wander. Travel. Join a cruise boat or a circus.’
‘And he acted on that urge at the precise moment he discovered he’d got you pregnant?’ Jade asked drily.
Geneva offered one of her shrugs, but then nodded.
‘Nothing felt real. The baby grew inside me, but I was detached so it felt more like an illness than a pregnancy. Perhaps that was a coping mechanism. I was frightened. Disillusioned. My parents withdrew all affection. I agreed to move away with Jarno, but he didn’t want to do it while I was pregnant.
And – sorry – but he didn’t want the baby.
’ Geneva’s forehead puckered all over. ‘He wanted us to have a fresh start once the baby was born and,’ she made air quotes with her fingers, ‘ “arrangements had been made.” ’
‘How did you feel at leaving me behind?’ Every time Geneva spoke of ‘the baby’, Jade deliberately used ‘me’ or ‘I’, refusing to let Geneva distance herself.
Fidgeting, Geneva said, ‘It was part of the nightmare. When Gio’s mamma and papà offered to take the ba—’ she caught herself this time, ‘you, my parents leapt on the solution. They said I was finding maturity if I could see the the best thing for you was entrusting you to loving grandparents.’
Jade laughed incredulously, a sound so harsh it hurt the back of her throat.
‘So long as those grandparents weren’t them?
Bastardi! No doubt they went to confession and considered their consciences clean.
Gran told me what hypocrites they were, attending church every week but ignoring their grandchild. ’
Swiftly, Geneva wiped an eye. ‘Yes, they were hypocrites. For them, church – the right church, where the right people went – was a networking opportunity.’
Unexpectedly, a pang shot through Jade’s chest as she thought of Geneva being brought up by people with those values. Her coffee was lukewarm now, but she toyed with the cup while she mulled over what kind of life she might have lived, if Geneva had made a different decision.
The unknown Jarno giving Jade a home? His learning to love ‘the baby’ seemed unlikely. He and Geneva might have had more kids, making Jade the odd one out and feel unwanted.
Or Geneva bringing up Jade alone . . . presumably on low-paying jobs.
Her maternal grandparents? They’d probably have dumped her in an orphanage.
Oh, Gran. Nonno. Thank you.
‘Who named me?’ she asked abruptly.