Chapter 25 #2
She nods. “And for a long time afterwards. That’s why they used to tell people they were friends. They even set up a decoy bedroom, in case anyone came to the house.”
I take another sip of my drink. “Which one was that?”
“The one in the cottage on the side.”
“That’s where we’re sleeping!”
She gives a wicked grin. “How appropriate. That is, assuming sleep isn’t all you do in there.”
I don’t like to tell her we haven’t had sex this summer.
Angelika tips back the rest of her drink. “Anyway, despite their efforts, the news got out and there was a hideous scandal—down in the village but also in Camaiore. People spat at them in the street and shopkeepers refused to serve them.”
“God, that’s hideous,” I say. I turn to Mabel. “Did you hear that? Angelika just answered your question.”
She smiles, but Callum has found the key, so she jumps back in the water.
“At the time, Wilf was trying to find a job as an English teacher,” Angelika continues, blowing smoke over her shoulder. “But there was no way any school would employ him. And people refused to do business with Arnaldo. He’d set up his own company but it fell apart within a few years.”
“So what did they do for money?” I ask.
Angelika takes one last drag on her cigarette and stubs it out.
“Willie found part-time work teaching English to adults at a night school in Lucca, and he gave a few private lessons. People were more accepting in the city. He was still working when I met him, although he stopped a few years later, once he qualified for his pension. They kept their heads above water but they never had much.”
“Were they happy, though?”
Angelika serves us another drink. “Very much so. Especially when it was just the two of them at home.”
“But the house is so different to what Wilf must have been used to. How did he cope being up here in the wild?”
She sits back, cradling her glass. “He loved being surrounded by nature. He used to say he embraced it, all of it—the good and the bad. He didn’t try to fight it or hold it back.”
I become aware that another argument has erupted in the pool. I excuse myself and walk over, only to find the kids are disagreeing about the score. Unsure how to settle the argument, I declare the game a draw.
“Come on,” I say, “it’s time to play something else.”
“Will you come in?” repeats Archie.
I grimace. “I’d love to but not yet. Maybe later.”
I return to my seat and take another swig of my drink. “One thing that’s been puzzling me,” I say to Angelika, “is how did Wilf find me?”
She smiles. “Oh, that’s easy, darling: I helped him. We did it on my laptop, right here at this table.”
I sit forward. “But I don’t understand how he even knew I existed. How did he know my name?”
Angelika fiddles with her rings. “I thought your mother told him.”
My insides flip. “My mum? But she died in 1989. And they weren’t in contact. … As far as I know, he wasn’t in touch with anyone from the family.”
She lifts a plucked eyebrow. “Well, I have a vague memory that Willie did have some contact with your mother.”
The shock of it stops my breath.
“I could be wrong,” she adds. “Remember this would have been before I knew him.”
I’m so shocked I can’t speak.
“Anyway, when Willie was writing his will and wondering what to do with the property,” Angelika continues, “he came to me and we looked you up on social media. He’d had the idea of leaving it to you but first he wanted to make sure you were gay.”
“‘Make sure’? What do you mean?”
“He already knew, darling.”
I feel like I’ve been punched. “But how?”
“I’m afraid I can’t remember. I’ve no idea at all.
But I do know he was delighted to see pictures of you with your gay friends.
There was one of you all at a foam party in Sitges and the caption said something about you being sisters.
He loved that. I think I told you he used to call me his sister. ”
I try to shake the shock out of my head but all I can think is that Wilf was in contact with Mum. And he knew I was gay.
“That’s when he decided he would leave you the house,” Angelika goes on. “It was the one place he and Arnaldo could celebrate their love, so he thought it would be fitting to leave it to his gay nephew.”
She explains that she accessed Edgar’s old account on LinkedIn and looked for an Adam Webb who worked in Manchester. Once they’d found me, they scoured the company’s website to discover my work email address. But I can’t concentrate on any of it.
Callum, Mabel and Archie bound over to the table.
“I’m hungry!”
“I’m thirsty!”
“Have you got my towel?”
I snap out of my trance and hand over their towels.
“Let me get you some drinks and snacks,” says Angelika. “I’ve stocked up for my granddaughters.”
I blink. “Oh, so you’ve got kids, too?”
“No, they’re Edgar’s actually, but I’ve known them all their lives, so we don’t bother with any of that step nonsense.”
“Right, yeah.”
She stands up and opens her lace parasol. “They were supposed to be coming this weekend but their trip’s been postponed. I don’t suppose any of you are fans of Harry Styles?”
“Yes!” blurts out Mabel. “I am!”
I smile. “She loves Harry Styles.”
“Well, I was going to surprise my granddaughters with tickets to his concert in Lucca,” says Angelika. “I’m too old to go myself but I was going to drive them there and pick them up afterwards. I don’t want any money but the tickets are yours if you want them.”
Mabel’s face lights up. “Oh my god, I’d love to go. Thank you!”
“Just a minute, who will you go with?” I say. “You should probably ask your dad before you say yes.”
Mabel screws up her face. “As if. Dad doesn’t get Harry Styles. He says he’s not a serious musician.” There’s a pause. “Adam, will you come?”
To my surprise, I find myself saying, “I’d love to.”
“Wunderbar!” warbles Angelika. She turns to walk back to the house and sneaks me a wink. “Now, go on, darling, take off that hat and T-shirt and get in the pool!”