Chapter 39
On Wednesday, Theo is out of action again, this time to prepare for tomorrow’s GCSE results day.
I spend the day working on the house, moving Mabel and Archie back into their bedrooms now that the paint on the walls has stopped smelling—or stopped smelling quite so badly.
After that, Archie and I empty all the broken and cracked plant pots from the final untouched outhouse—disturbing some enormous beetles, spiders and more lizards—and put them in the skip, while Callum and Mabel go up to Angelika’s to hang out by the pool with Lina and Freya.
The five of us come together for an early dinner, after which we’re expecting a handful of guests.
We’re gathering to scatter Wilf’s ashes.
Angelika is the first to arrive. I know she’s left Lina and Freya with their dad, who’s landed from Frankfurt and is taking them to Pietrasanta for dinner.
I assumed she made this decision because the scattering of Wilf’s ashes would be a solemn occasion, but she turns up in full vamp mode, wearing a black trouser suit and boots, a gold studded belt and matching handbag, her nails and lips painted her signature red, a bottle of Prosecco in one hand and the urn containing Wilf’s ashes in the other.
“I don’t mind admitting, I’m ready to get rid of this,” she quips, handing me the urn. “The silver clashes terribly with my jewelry.”
I smile.
While we’re waiting for Luisa and Stefano, I show Angelika around the house. She loves what we’ve done with the kitchen, adores the new family suite, and is thrilled to see the pizza oven restored and back in action.
“Wunderbar!” she drawls. “You’ve turned the place into a busy, thriving, welcoming home.”
I realize she’s right: this has become my home. Our home. I wonder if the kids feel the same.
There’s a pause that could be classed as solemn when I show Angelika the framed passport photos. But it doesn’t last long.
“You know this makes me very happy,” she says. “To see Willie and Arnaldo together, expressing such joy. Here, in the heart of your home.”
She takes my hand and gives it a tug.
From outside, we hear Theo and the kids greeting Luisa and Stefano.
“Come on,” I say, gesturing at the photos, “let’s reunite these two.”
We step outside and there’s a chorus of buonasera and some chat between Angelika and the Fiores, who haven’t spoken since Wilf’s death.
While our guests are all dressed in black, Theo, the kids and I don’t have enough black clothes, so have just dressed smartly and in dark colors—and I notice that Mabel has put on some light makeup.
Once the initial chat is over, I suggest we climb up the hill.
While no one’s looking I pick up a tote bag I’ve packed with a little surprise.
Conscious of Angelika’s age, I offer to carry the urn so she can hold onto the handrail. She comments on how much easier it is to climb the hill with the new steps—rather than having to scramble.
“That’s why I haven’t been up for so long,” she says, stopping to catch her breath. “Ach du Schei?e! I’ve forgotten how high it is.”
“Sometimes I swear I can feel my ears pop,” I joke.
Angelika lowers her voice. “It reminds me of my days at the airline. Whenever we were taking off, I used to say to my gay friends, ‘Have you got anything to suck on?’ And they’d say, ‘The pilot’s not bad.’”
I roar with laughter.
“What’s tickling you?” asks Theo.
“Nothing,” I reply, gesturing at the kids. “I’ll tell you later.”
We reach the top and pass the diggers’ equipment on one side, on the other the entrance to the underground chamber, which has been cordoned off.
We edge around the grid—each of its squares numbered on little markers in the corners—and over to the wall, and the area Luisa and her team have designated for us.
As usual, it’s quieter up here, but we can still hear the crickets rubbing their wings together, a few birds chirping, and a light breeze rustling through the trees.
Stefano lets out a groan of pleasure. “The sound of the country breathing!”
We all smile.
I hand the urn to Angelika and take up position next to Theo. We have to stand, as Luisa and her team are in the process of reconstructing the wall, using the stones recovered from the wall that collapsed at the back of the chapel. I take Theo’s hand and lace my fingers through his.
The sun is preparing to tuck itself behind the mountain.
Again, I notice the imperfection of the view but this time it only seems to add to its beauty.
Maybe my time in Italy has made me more romantic, but it strikes me that the rays of the setting sun are skipping over the valley, stroking the surface of the sea, and tickling the underbelly of the little fluffy clouds.
I feel an ache of regret that Mum didn’t make it here.
Snapping back to the present, I realize I haven’t prepared anything to say.
Thankfully, Angelika speaks first. “Willie, I haven’t laughed as much since I lost you and I miss you every day. But it’s an honor to return you to your happy place, where I hope you’ll rest in eternal peace with the great love of your life, Arnaldo.”
Again, the mood has tipped into somber.
“Oh and say hello to my Edgar,” she tosses in. “Tell him to get lots of golf in because when I arrive all that’ll be stopping.”
We smile and Theo squeezes my hand.
Angelika gently scatters some of Wilf’s gray, finely ground ashes over the hillside, onto the slope along which crawls the vineyard. She passes the urn to Stefano.
Stefano says something in Italian, which Luisa translates as: “You are returning to nature, from where you came. May your energy enrich the earth and give us a bountiful harvest.”
Impressed at her vocabulary, I’m now even more worried about what I’m going to say.
“Uncle Wilf,” I begin, cradling the urn, “I didn’t know you but it’s been a privilege to discover your story.
Thanks for opening your life up to me. I know yours was sometimes a struggle but I hope it’s some consolation to know you got it right.
Your bravery and self-belief inspire me every day. And I’m proud to call you uncle.”
I tip out some ashes and pass the urn to Theo.
“Wilf, I didn’t know you either but you’ve had a big impact on my life,” he says. “Adam and I promise to honor your legacy by making your home our home and filling it with love.”
When he hands the urn to Mabel, she looks a little self-conscious. I feel bad that I didn’t sit the kids down beforehand and help them come up with something to say. I’m about to tell her she doesn’t need to say anything when she starts speaking.
“We love your home,” she mumbles. “Thanks for letting us make it ours, too.”
“Yeah, it’s mint,” adds Callum, awkwardly.
But I guess they’ve answered my question. As they each sprinkle some ashes, I give them a big smile.
Archie takes the urn from his brother, turns around and trots off.
“Archie, where are you going?” I say.
He stops. “I’m putting mine in the dungeon.”
“No, darling!” Angelika shouts. “I know it only looks like dust but it’s Willie’s body and we have to follow strict rules. We only have permission to scatter it over the hill.”
Archie frowns and pads back.
“Bye, Uncle Wilf,” he says, scattering some ashes over the edge. “I like your castle. And Len and Lionel the lizards. And the pizza oven. But not the snake.”
We all smile and pass the urn back down the line to Angelika, who empties out what’s left.
“Goodbye, sister,” she says.
For a while, we all stand in silence. Thinking about Wilf and savoring the sunset.
“There’s one more thing,” I throw in.
And from out of my tote bag, I produce the stone inscribed with the names WILF + ARNALDO. I pass it around so everyone can see and explain where I found it. They’re all fascinated and the kids run their fingers over the scratched names.
I turn to Luisa. “I was wondering if you and your team could put it back in the wall, with the other stones.”
She smiles. “Of course.”
Luisa lifts a few stones from the top layer of the wall and slides Wilf and Arnaldo’s underneath, explaining that they’ll make sure it’s secure in the morning. “And their love for each other will always be part of the castle.”
Amongst all the buried secrets. I run my hand over the wall.
“Now, I don’t know about you,” breaks in Angelika, “but I’m desperate for a drink.”
I grin. “Come on, let’s get down before it goes dark.”
I give the wall one last pat and lead everyone back to the path.
“By the way,” Luisa says to Archie as we troop down the steps, “that bone we found belonged to a wild boar.”
“Oh, no,” is his response.
“Don’t be disappointed,” counters Luisa. “If it had been human, it would have made the dig very complicated.”
“Yeah,” jumps in Theo. “And you wouldn’t want this place to be a crime scene, with police everywhere, would you?” He stops himself. “Actually, don’t answer that.”
We all laugh.
“And it looks like the underground chamber is safe to explore,” Luisa adds. “So we can find out if it really is a dungeon.”
Archie’s face lights up. “Can I come?”
“We’ll definitely make some time to take you down,” she says. “After all, you found it!”
I can’t see his face but know he’ll be beaming.
We reach the bottom of the hill and, just as we’re emerging from behind the chapel, I spot a group of wild boars on the patio. I quickly stretch out my arm to hold everyone back.
“Ssssh!”
Stefano is directly behind me. “We must tell them to go,” he says.
“Can’t we just watch them for a minute?” I protest. “They’re not doing any harm.”
We all fall silent and watch the boars trotting around the patio, grunting as they sniff at the ground, presumably searching for food.
I count seven of them altogether. Three are bigger and darker, with white, bristly hair.
The smaller ones are a lighter brown, but gray around the nose and under their bellies.
Theo licks his lips. “I bet they’d taste nice in a pasta sauce,” he whispers.
“Dad!” Mabel hisses at him. “Is it a family?” she asks Stefano.
He whispers something to Luisa. “With cinghiale, the male does not stay with his mate,” she translates. “Groups of females form herds with their young.”
Mabel considers this for a moment. “That still counts as a family.”
I grin at her. “Absolutely.”
One of the smaller boars spots us and the group takes fright, toddling off into the valley.
“Come on,” says Angelika, “it’s time for that drink.”