Chapter 27
CHAPTER 27
CASALTA, 29 APRIL 1985
LUCREZIA
Everyone slept late: we were all drained after what had happened the day before. Bianca was already in the living room, phone receiver in hand.
‘Morning! Matilde is not here yet, I’m giving her a call, but there’s no reply…’
‘Good morning, girls!’ a voice called from the kitchen. Matilde!
We ran through to find her still wrapped in her cardigan, a net bag of plums in her hand. Her face was lined, wan, as if she’d grown ten years older in the space of one night.
‘I was just trying to call you,’ Bianca said.
‘ Tesoro ,’ Matilde began and took a step towards Bianca. ‘I came to get my things and say goodbye. I can’t stay. I can’t work for the Orafi.’
Bianca and I looked at each other, smiling, and gave Matilde the news. ‘We should have called you yesterday!’ I said, guiltily. But finding out that Gabriella had killed our father kind of distracted us.
‘It’s not your fault!’ Bianca said at the same time. ‘Why don’t you sit down? We’ll make you breakfast. Please, let us spoil you, for once!’
Matilde didn’t move. ‘The Signora bought Casalta?’
‘Yes!’ Bianca exclaimed. ‘Please, Matilde, take your cardigan off. Don’t leave us. Stay.’
‘So, it’s all sorted?’ she asked in a cautious tone. Surely it couldn’t be , her eyes said.
‘It is all sorted. Only a few signatures to be made at Cavalli’s,’ Mum said, appearing at the door. She’d had the luggage left at her hotel in Florence sent to Casalta, and she was now dressed in her own clothes, a long blue dress and a purple flowy cardigan, with her red-grey hair in a plait. How distant that first night seemed now, when she’d turned up soaking, with a little bag, like a cat caught in the rain.
‘You are staying, aren’t you, Matilde?’ Bianca said, and Matilde smiled for the first time.
‘I’d never leave you, girls. And I’d never work for the Orafi! Oh, signora. You’re certainly full of surprises!’ she said, and Mum leaned down to give her a hug.
I switched the gas on under the caffettiera . ‘Honey croissants and coffee for everyone!’ I announced.
And so, we sat outside again, all of us, including Gabriella – she was silent and her eyes were puffy, but she was there. Nora too, her hazel eyes sparkling green in the sunshine, wearing a short yellow dress instead of her usual cargo trousers. We stopped Matilde from getting up, and served her hand and foot in spite of her protests.
All the knots were coming loose, one by one. I’d call Claude later today to tell him I wasn’t going back – I wasn’t looking forward to it, but at the same time I couldn’t wait to be truthful, and set him free.
Finally, after Gabriella’s unburdening, there were no more secrets to be discovered.
And yet, on this perfect morning, there was an ache in my heart, and it carried the name of Vanni…
When breakfast was finished, Bianca, Mum and I washed the dishes in the kitchen. ‘Girls… there’s somewhere I need to go, and I’d be so grateful if you could come with me,’ Mum said, making sure nobody could overhear.
‘Sure, where?’
‘Remember I told you about my friend, the man who tried to help me, to help us? I’d like us to go see him.’
‘No problem,’ I told her. ‘What’s his name?’
Mum closed her eyes for an instant – all of a sudden, I saw her aura glow white and gold against the early morning light…
‘His name is Gherardo Orafi.’
So much for no more secrets to be discovered.
I should have guessed, I should have guessed, I should have guessed .
I kept repeating these thoughts with every step that brought us towards the Orafi house. So this was what had started the feud between our families – first Father had called off the engagement with Gherardo’s sister, and then… Mum and Gherardo got close and he’d tried to help her; he’d tried to help us.
All the pieces of the jigsaw were now falling into place.
We approached the house from the back – and, just as before, Bruno materialised. His mouth was open to speak, but then he saw Mum, and was silenced.
‘ Buongiorno , signora. I take it you’re here to visit Signori Orafi. This way.’ If he wondered how it happened that the Signora Falconeri could have returned from the dead, he didn’t say.
‘What? That’s not how you were with me! You were all bodyguard with me!’ I protested.
Mum gave me a mischievous look. ‘He respects his elders,’ she said.
Bruno let us in and the same maid who’d welcomed me, Susanna, came to the door. ‘ Buongiorno . Who will I call for?’
We were here to see Gherardo, but I still secretly hoped to see Vanni, of course.
‘Signor Gherardo, thank you. You can say it’s… it’s Emmeline.’
She disappeared and then returned, silent and efficient. ‘Please, follow me.’
I threw a longing look to the corridor that led outside and to Vanni’s apartment, and followed Susanna.
She took us to a lift – Vanni couldn’t have managed the stairs – and we stood silent and immobile for a few seconds, until the door opened to more marble and precious woods. It was like being in a luxurious hotel. The sound of a jazz piano filled the air, a cheerful, sophisticated melody. The maid knocked at a wooden door, and a surprisingly strong voice came from inside.
‘Come in.’
The door opened, and in front of us was Lorenzo. He seemed taken aback by our presence, but he recovered quickly, and moved aside.
I made my way slowly inside, gingerly – a sick, invalid man was in here, and I didn’t want to upset him… But this wasn’t the dark sickroom I’d imagined; it was bright and airy, the windows open and sunrays cutting through it. An old-fashioned record player played the music I’d heard from the hall, and a pile of books sat by the bed… which was empty. I looked around for Signor Orafi and noticed that lovely, colourful paintings decorated every wall. Our vineyards, baskets of grapes, a stormy sky over the hills, the Casalta church, children playing in the square, old women sitting on their doorstep, chatting under a sunny sky, the Casalta fair with its food and wine stands, the graveyard and its sentry cypresses.
I knew that painting style, I was sure.
Either it was Mia’s handiwork, or…
‘You recognise them, don’t you?’ a deep, pleasant voice said.
Gherardo Orafi sat in an armchair near the window, a small man so bundled up in blankets, I’d missed him. He seemed frail, with those plaid covers on his legs and thin hands resting on his knees, but lively, benevolent eyes shone from under bushy eyebrows and a grey beard made him look like a small, Mediterranean wizard. He had the same unruly mop of hair that Vanni sported. I was in front of my father’s legendary enemy.
‘Emmeline!’ he said, and his aura rose as gold as my mother’s.
‘Gherardo!’
She crossed the room and held him in her arms, both crying and laughing at the same time.
‘You came back…’
‘Finally! I can be with my girls… Oh, Gherardo, it’s been so long. Too long.’
‘Sit, sit, Emmeline, let me look at you! You haven’t changed at all!’ His eyes were shiny, and so were Mum’s. She sat on a stool beside the armchair, and they held each other’s hand.
Lorenzo’s face was the picture of shock. In jeans and a black T-shirt, he didn’t have the same distant, authoritative air: he seemed younger, and lost. ‘You know each other?’
‘For many years, yes,’ Gherardo said.
‘Lorenzo…’ Mum began. ‘I never meant to bring all this on your family. I’m so sorry…’ She turned to Gherardo. ‘I was always so afraid to come back and cause more trouble… This was my fault,’ she said and gestured lightly to the plaid blanket on Gherardo’s knees, to the bedside table covered in medicine.
‘I knew it. I was sure.’ Lorenzo’s voice was thin, angry.
‘It’s done, now, son. Fosco is dead. And you’re here, Emmeline!’ Gherardo said. Bianca moved closer to Lorenzo, but not too close. There was a wall between them; I could almost see it.
‘Thank you for all you did for me, back then. I’ll be in your debt forever.’
‘Oh, but what did I do in the end? I didn’t really help. You had to go, and so did Lucrezia… Girls, I can never apologise enough. I always knew what was going on in your home. I tried to protect Emmeline, and you girls, but I failed.’
Lorenzo looked from one to the other. ‘You two… had an affair?’
Gherardo shook his head. ‘No. Neither of us wanted that. We cared for each other too much…’ He squeezed her hand.
‘What about Mum? Your wife ?’ Lorenzo spat out.
‘Lorenzo, you’ve always known that the marriage between your mother and me was loveless. She married me because her parents wanted her to; she stayed with me only to save appearances. It’s been a long, hard road for both of us. We tried to compensate with friendship, companionship… but it didn’t work. She resented me so deeply, she couldn’t stand the sight of me. But you always knew that, didn’t you?’
Lorenzo looked like a little lost child. ‘I tried to fix things. To take care of everyone. That didn’t work either.’
‘You were the lynchpin of your family, all these years,’ Bianca whispered, her face flushed pink.
Mum looked around. ‘Fosco Falconeri tried to destroy us all, in different ways. But here we are. Together.’
Not all of us , I thought sadly, and looked out of the window to the apartment below, thinking of Vanni.