The Healer's Secret

by Helen Pryke

  “Do you really want to know?” I asked. She looked miserable but nodded anyway. I passed it to her and watched her eyes grow bigger as she read.

  “I-I can’t believe it,” she said, giving it back to me.

  “There’s something else I have to tell you,” I said, “and you’re going to find it even more incredible.”

  In the end, we decided to go out to the garden. It was a beautiful morning in early September, the air was cool on our faces and a faint mist still hugged the ground. We walked into the Grove and slowly wandered around as I told Agnese what had happened to me the night before. We stopped in front of the belladonna bush. Uncle Mario had taught me how to handle its branches carefully, making sure I wore protective gloves, and trim only what was absolutely necessary. The harmless-looking black berries shone in the sunlight. It was difficult to believe they could be so deadly.

  “So, you saw everything, as if it were a film playing in front of you?” Agnese asked, glancing at me.

  I couldn’t blame her for being sceptical. “I know it sounds weird, I’m sure it was the wine I drank… maybe Luisa put something in it that makes you hallucinate. I don’t know.” I was tired and couldn’t think straight. “All I do know is that everything I saw ties in with the letter, which I didn’t finish reading until afterwards.”

  “She was a strong woman, wasn’t she?” Agnese said.

  “The strongest,” I agreed. “I felt a bit pathetic after seeing what she’d been through… you know, getting drunk all the time, not facing my problems.”

  Agnese took hold of my hand and led me over to Malva’s grave. We both stood looking at the small tombstone, reading the inscription one more time.

  “She never had a chance to live, yet it wasn’t her fault,” Agnese whispered. She bent over, kissed the palm of her hand, and placed it on top of the inscription. “Jennifer,” she turned to me with tears pouring down her cheeks. “I’m going to keep the baby.”

  I hugged her tightly, almost crying myself. “You won’t regret it, and you won’t be alone,” I promised. We left the Grove, still holding onto each other as we made our way back up to the cottage.

  Agnese picked up the recipe book once more. “So, are you going to make any of these?”

  “Of course. I was trying to decide which one when you arrived. I thought I’d start with something simple, just to begin with.”

  “Hmm, there are lots in here. Maybe you could try this one.” She showed me a short recipe for a cream that would alleviate acne.

  “That looks simple. Why not?”

  She flicked back through the pages. “Have you seen this? Look at all these names written in the front, all the healers throughout the centuries.”

  “Yes, I noticed but didn’t take the time to read it,” I said. “I was more interested in the recipes. Is Luisa’s name there?”

  “It’s the last one. Just think, now you’re going to add yours.”

  I smiled. Her excitement was contagious and I felt happy all of a sudden, glad to become a part of this incredible family.

  “Ooh, look here,” she cried out. “The first name, it’s Agnes. Do you think I was named for her?”

  “It’s possible. I wonder who she was.” A thought occurred to me. “Mario said it all started with an English girl, centuries ago. I wonder if this is her?”

  “No idea, nobody’s ever mentioned that,” Agnese said.

  “I’m sure that’s what Mario said.” Another idea suddenly popped into my head, pushing aside all thoughts of our ancient ancestor. “Agnese, you’ve helped Luisa over the years, haven’t you?”

  “Yes, she often let me help prepare the plants for the medicines.”

  “Great. How would you like to help me?” I asked. “I don’t have a clue what I’m doing. You could teach me what you know, and we’ll figure out the rest together.”

  “Really? I’d love to,” she exclaimed.

  I grabbed a biro off the sideboard and bent over the book. Taking a deep breath, I carefully wrote my name underneath Luisa’s. I handed the pen to Agnese. “Your turn.”

  “Are you sure?” she asked, her voice trembling with emotion. “I don’t think those are the rules…”

  “I’m the healer now, and I’m sure,” I said in a determined tone.

  She held the pen above the page, as if trying to decide, then wrote her name below mine.

  “Well, now we’re both healers,” I said. “Shall we get to work?”

  Even though I was exhausted, it was pleasantly relaxing trying out the recipe. We chatted together while we worked, and came up with a plan to tell Aunt Liliana about the baby. I would go to lunch the next day and Agnese would mention it to her mother.

  “With any luck, my mum will be here the day after and they’ll be so excited about seeing her that they’ll stop going on at you.”

  “Crafty, but it could work.” Agnese laughed. “The old distraction technique.”

  “Maybe I’ll bring some of Luisa’s ‘wine’. It might take the edge off things.”

  Agnese frowned. “Can I see it?”

  I fetched a bottle from the hallway cupboard and handed it to her.

  “Hmm, interesting,” she said. “I helped Luisa and Mario make this. The whole family thought we’d gone mad. Mario and I spent all day picking the fruit off the trees in the Grove, and Luisa had loads of large glass bowls all lined up. God only knows where she got them from, someone in the village, I imagine. I helped her wash all the fruit while she boiled saucepans of water. We put the fruit in separate bowls, poured over the water and left it all to steep. She brought out a glass jar full of dried leaves of some plant from the pantry… I don’t know which one, she wouldn’t say… and she added a few leaves to each bowl. She kept saying we had to work faster, as she wanted to be sure to finish. That’s when she started to go downhill, saying all those weird things that didn’t make any sense.”

  “But she did it, didn’t she?” I asked, gesturing at the bottle.

  “Oh yes. We worked for days, and every night we went to bed shattered. Our hands were permanently stained purple from all the juices. Once the fruit began steeping, we knew we had to wait at least ten days for it to ferment. Mario phoned me a couple of days later, saying Luisa wanted to bottle it right away. We did everything we could to persuade her to wait, we told her it hadn’t had time, but she was adamant. She insisted the moon was in the right phase and it had to be done right then. So we strained it all off, that was backbreaking work, I’ll tell you, and put it in the bottles. She died about a week later.” She sighed. “I’m glad I spent all that time with her during her last weeks, it made it easier when she died.”

  “I thought it was wine when I first drank it because it had such a weird effect on me. It was like getting drunk, but without the hangover the next morning.” I paused. “I wonder if that was due to those leaves she put in it?”

  Agnese shrugged. “I’ve no idea.”

  “That first weekend, after we’d cleaned the house, I went crazy… I desperately needed a drink and searched everywhere, until I found those bottles in the garage.”

  “It was that bad?” Agnese looked concerned.

  “Yes,” I said, embarrassed. “I only drank one glass, though, and that’s when the dragonfly appeared.”

  “Dragonfly?”

  “I thought it was the wine, making me see an insect that wanted me to follow it.”

  Agnese giggled.

  “Huh, you can laugh… I thought I was going out of my mind! Anyway, this dragonfly was insistent, and it led me down to the Grove. And to Malva’s grave.”

  “That must have been a shock,” Agnese said.

  “I screamed and ran back to the house. The wine didn’t exactly give me Dutch courage that evening.”

  “But you went back the next day.”

  “I felt calmer, more able to deal with things… it was odd, I hadn’t felt that way for ages,” I said.

  “There’s got to be more in that juice than just fru
it. I wonder if we’ll find the recipe in the book,” Agnese mused.

  “I’ve looked but I didn’t find it. She must have had a secret ingredient that we’ll never know.”

  “Maybe I should drink some, it might give me the strength for tomorrow,” Agnese said, laughing.

  “You know, that’s not such a bad idea.” She looked at me. “Maybe I’ll bring a bottle with me tomorrow,” I said, winking.

  “Luisa saves the day again,” Agnese exclaimed, and we both burst out laughing.

  Chapter Twenty

  I stood outside my aunt’s front door, bottle in hand, feeling as nervous as a child outside the headmaster’s room. I rang the bell, and smiled at the sound of commotion inside.

  “Oh, Jennifer, it’s you. There was no need to ring, you could have just come right in.” My aunt scuttled down the hallway before me, rushing back into the kitchen. The house was filled with wonderful the aroma of various things cooking and bubbling away on the stove. Bea ran out of the living room and threw herself at me. I managed to catch her, holding the bottle up in the air as she hugged my legs.

  “Here, let me take that,” Davide said, plucking the bottle from my hands.

  I smiled gratefully and turned my attention to Beatrice. “What’s that you’re saying? Slow down a bit, otherwise I can’t understand you.”

  She breathlessly told me all about a school project she’d been working on, the words pouring out of her so fast that I had trouble keeping up. I finally understood that it was about the cottage and Luisa, and that she’d got a ten for it.

  “Well done,” I praised, infected by her childish excitement.

  “Let Jennifer come and sit down,” Giulia said, coming out into the hallway. “She was so excited you were coming to lunch, she wanted to tell you all about her project.”

  “It sounds like she worked hard on it.”

  “Oh, she did. And she used some of the photos you gave to Liliana. We got some copies made, there are some for you as well. She used them as the starting point and wrote her project around the people and images.”

  “Clever girl,” I said, impressed. She jumped up and down, proud of her achievement.

  “And how are you?” I asked Giulia, glancing at her ever-expanding stomach.

  “Tired. It’s been a long summer, luckily it’s getting cooler now. I can’t wait till it’s over.”

  “How much longer?” I asked sympathetically. She looked enormous, and I could imagine how fed up she was.

  “About another month. But Bea arrived two weeks early, so I’m expecting this one to make its appearance at any moment.”

  “Come on, Bea, let’s go and sit down, let your mum take the weight off her feet,” I said.

  “She can’t wait, she keeps on about her new little brother or sister,” Giulia said as we made our way into the living room. She sank down gratefully onto the sofa, sighing in relief.

  “I’ll bet,” I said, sitting down next to her. “I always wished I wasn’t an only child, but it wasn’t to be.”

  We chatted while Bea ran from the living room to the kitchen, helping put things on the dining table and passing messages between the cooks and us. Davide went out in the garden with Dante, and we could see them through the window, talking.

  Lunch finally ready, we all gathered around the table and tucked in, passing plates to one another, reaching in front of someone to grab a piece of bread, holding our glasses up to be refilled with Luisa’s wine. Amidst all the laughter and chatter, I watched Agnese, who was sitting quietly at one end of the table, her body tense, unable to join in. Bea said something to her and she smiled back, a brief stretch of lips that quickly faded. As I mopped up the last of the juices from the delicious roast with a thick piece of crusty bread, there was silence at long last. Pleasantly full, everyone started to relax under the effect of the wine. I glanced at Agnese and raised my eyebrows. This was her chance.

  Agnese cleared her throat. Everyone turned and stared at her. “Er, um…” she began, twisting her hands together nervously. I nodded encouragingly at her. “Er, I have something to say.” We all waited. “I, er… oh… I’m pregnant, Mamma, Papà.”

  There was a moment’s stunned silence, then everyone started talking at once. Poor Agnese was close to tears as she was bombarded with questions from all directions. Then Dante stood up and slammed his hand down hard on the table, making everyone jump.

  “Shut up,” he ordered, and everyone obeyed. He looked at Agnese. “Presuming this isn’t some terrible joke, who’s the father?”

  “I wouldn’t joke about something like this,” she said quietly, her voice trembling. “I-I can’t tell you who the father is, he’s not interested in staying around.”

  “My God. Have you thought this through?”

  “I’ve done nothing but think about it, ever since I found out.” She looked him squarely in the eyes. “And I’ve decided to keep it.”

  “And what about your family?” Dante said, raising his voice. “Your mother already has enough to do, running around after everyone, and now you spring this surprise on us. You’ll be a single mother. And where will we put it? Your room is barely big enough for you, let alone a baby and all its bits and pieces.” He paused for breath. “And who do you think is going to help you, when the time comes?”

  “Me,” I said. He turned and concentrated his gaze on me. “I’ve decided to stay at the cottage, I’m not going back to England. I’d already decided before Agnese told me…”

  “You knew?” he interrupted.

  “She told me yesterday. She wanted some moral support, she knew it wouldn’t be easy telling you all. Like I said, I’m staying and I’m going to learn about healing… I want to take over from Luisa. And I want Agnese to help me, she already knows something about it.”

  Now they stared at me in shock. I started to feel a bit sorry for them. Aunt Liliana touched her husband’s arm and gestured to him to sit back down. He glowered at me, but did as he was told.

  “Th-this is a big surprise, obviously,” she said, her eyes flitting at everyone around the table. “We’re very happy that you’re staying, and that you want to become a healer… the village has sorely missed having one around since Luisa died. And I thank you for offering to help Agnese, although I’m sure that once the shock has worn off, we will all be supportive of her. We’re no longer in the Middle Ages,” she said sternly, glaring at her husband. He lowered his eyes, looking abashed. “Our biggest problem is space, as Dante said… our house is not as big as we’d like.”

  “That’s not a problem,” I said, the idea dawning on me as I spoke. “Agnese can come and live at the cottage.”

  Agnese looked startled. “A-are you sure, Jennifer?”

  “Of course. I’m going to need you around anyway, to help me learn. Maybe I can even get to grips with that bloody stove. And once the baby’s born, I’ll be on hand to help you.”

  “I think it’s a brilliant idea,” Giulia said. “And of course we’ll all pitch in, won’t we?”

  “Absolutely,” Davide said, and Lorenzo nodded in agreement.

  “I’m going to get a baby cousin as well as a brother!” Beatrice screamed in excitement, jumping up and down behind her mother’s chair. Agnese seemed relieved at her family’s acceptance of her news and even managed a smile.

  “This doesn’t mean you’re off the hook, young lady,” Dante told her, helping himself to another glass of Luisa’s wine. “Your mother and I are going to want to have a very long talk with you.” But his expression mellowed as he drank, and I knew that everything would be all right.

  “If you’re going to stay, you have to get that work done on the cottage,” Davide said. “You said the roof leaked sometimes and I know the tiles in the bathroom need replacing.”

  I thought back to the storm and shuddered. “Yes, and I’d like to turn the garage into a work area, a kind of laboratory,” I said. “So we can keep everything away from the children.”

  “Good idea,” Giulia sa
id. “Who can we get to do the work?”

  “I’ve already asked a friend who does that sort of thing, he did say he was available after the summer,” Lorenzo said. “I’ll give him a call, get him to come out and have a look, tell you how much it would cost.”

  “Thanks, that’s much appreciated.” I looked around at everyone, suddenly proud to be a part of this wonderful family. All reprimands forgotten, they were talking about the future as though it had been planned that way all along. I realised that I loved Italians; such a volatile people, quick to anger but also quick to forgive and rally around in times of need. It explained a lot about my own character, the part of me I couldn’t control at times and that scared me so much. It was that part of me, I now realised, that had given me the strength to get through the bad times; and in trying to suppress it, I had turned to drink as a way of restraining the monster inside me. But in reality, I had only succeeded in making myself weaker, unable to face my problems head on, destroying the only part of me that could have helped me carry on. It had taken the cottage, Luisa’s juice, and my Italian family to show me that I had the strength to change my life for the better.

  I stayed with the others while Agnese and her parents had their ‘long talk’. It was early evening when we eventually managed to say our goodbyes. They’d agreed that Agnese could come back to the cottage with me, and we’d move her things gradually during the week. Aunt Liliana hugged her daughter tightly as they kissed each other’s cheeks.

  “I’m not leaving forever, Mamma,” Agnese said, but I could see that her eyes glistened with tears. It was the first time she’d left home, and it was a wrench for all of them.

  As Agnese and I made our way back to the cottage, the first heavy drops of rain began to fall. By the time we reached the front door, gasping as we ran, it was pelting down. I closed the door and we looked at each other and burst out laughing.

  “We look like two drowned rats,” I giggled. Agnese’s hair hung limply, her clothes plastered to her body as she dripped all over the floor. I imagined I looked no better. Bella came out of the living room and looked at us as if we were mad.