The Healer's Secret

by Helen Pryke

  “Jennifer! Where are you? I bet she’s in the Grove, she’s always going there.” It was Agnese, and there was someone else with her. I could hear a man’s voice.

  “Yes, I’m in the Grove,” I called back. Agnese came towards me with a stranger. I barely glanced at him, then did a double-take and looked more carefully. Tall and rugged, with light brown hair and a tanned face with weathered lines that suggested he worked outdoors, a faint outline of stubble on his chin and piercing blue eyes that glittered in the sunlight…I immediately named him Rugged Cowboy, then gave myself a mental slap and tried to act normally.

  “Jennifer, this is Francesco,” Agnese said, oblivious to my state of confusion. “Francesco, this is Jennifer.”

  “Ah, hi Francesco,” I said, holding out my hand. He shook it, his grip firm and steady. I looked into his eyes and was lost.

  “Lorenzo told me to pop round, he said you had some work needed doing.”

  “Oh, yes, of course, you’re his friend he was talking about,” I babbled. “Well, there’s the garage, I’d like to refurbish that, and the roof leaks a bit in one of the bedrooms, so that’ll need sorting…”

  He raised his hand to stop me. “Why don’t we take a look around? You can tell me what you’d like to do, I’ll tell you if I see anything else that needs fixing, and we’ll start from there,” he suggested.

  “Fine, great idea.” I could see Agnese’s puzzled face out of the corner of my eye, and felt the beginning of a blush on my cheeks.

  “The rest of the family has arrived, too,” she said. I was suddenly aware of the sound of many voices, all talking at once.

  “Have I come at a bad time?” Francesco asked. “I can pass again tomorrow, if you like.”

  “No, no, that’s fine,” I said quickly. “Why don’t you stay for lunch? There’s plenty of food, we must have cooked enough for fifty people.” I smiled at him so broadly that my face felt as if it would split in two.

  He smiled back. “Well, if you’re sure… it smells great. My mouth’s watering already.”

  “I’ll set another place,” Agnese murmured, winking at me.

  Lunch was riotous fun, and the cottage walls echoed with talk and laughter. Even Bella loved being the centre of attention, and patiently allowed Beatrice to put little ribbons in her fur. Giulia kept rubbing her stomach and grimacing; now in her last days of pregnancy, even breathing was a lot of effort for her. I saw Davide glance at her worriedly every now and then, and whisper in her ear; she would pat his hand and nod that everything was all right.

  Mum and Aunt Liliana talked non-stop, making Dante remark on how his ears would have to get used to the silence once Mum went back to England. Aunt Liliana slapped his arm, and went back to her conversation.

  This time we served real wine, wanting to keep Luisa’s bottles for other occasions. I politely refused each time they offered me a glass, and stuck to water. Agnese had placed Francesco opposite me, and I had plenty of opportunity to check him out without him noticing. He obviously knew the family well, and joined in with all the banter, appearing at ease in their company. I guessed he was about my age, maybe a little older.

  Whilst we were waiting for coffee at the end of the long meal, I stepped outside in the garden. Bella followed me, relieved to be away from the chaos for a little while. We both stood under the horse chestnut tree, its wide leaves shading us. I leaned back against its trunk, enjoying the quiet.

  “Am I disturbing you?” Francesco appeared in front of us.

  “No, not at all. Are you escaping as well?”

  “I love that family,” he said with a grin, “but sometimes you need a break.”

  We both burst out laughing.

  “I hear you’re going to stay here at the cottage, instead of going back to England. Why’s that? Won’t your friends miss you?” He hesitated. “Your husband?”

  “Oh, I don’t have that many friends back there, I lost them when I became an alcoholic,” I said. I thought it better to be honest straight away, to give him a chance to run.

  “Oh. And the husband?”

  “Ex-husband. He left me, we’re getting divorced,” I muttered.

  “Oh.”

  “It’s OK, I’ve moved on. Well, actually, I’ve moved away.” I gave a nervous laugh and mentally kicked myself. I sounded like an idiot.

  “I’m glad you ended up here,” he said, then blushed. I was amused, I’d never have thought he was as nervous as me.

  “Thanks. And you… wife, girlfriend…?” Better to get everything out in the open from the beginning. I blinked as I saw the image of the dragonfly on my hand and the mist descending around me, and wondered if it only ever appeared when something momentous was about to happen.

  “Neither. I’ve never found that right person, you know, the one you click with right away,” he said, and paused.

  “Of course. I’ve decided I’ve had it with men for the time being, I don’t have the energy for all that any more.” I spoke without thinking, but realised that it was true. Friends would do me just fine for the time being.

  He coughed, embarrassed, and bent down to stroke Bella, undoubtedly to hide his nervousness. “So, do you want to tell me what work you need doing?” he asked after a while.

  I nodded. “Come on, I’ll show you, then we’ll go back for coffee before they all start talking about us.”

  “Probably too late for that, they’ll have us married by now!”

  I was really starting to like this man.

  As we turned to go inside, we heard loud shouting coming from the cottage. Mum flew out of the back door.

  “Jen, Jen, where are you?” she called, not seeing us in her agitation.

  “Here, Mum. What’s wrong?” I said, making her jump.

  “Oh, Christ, you almost gave me a heart attack. It’s Giulia, she’s gone into labour. She’d been having pains for a while, then she fell off her chair. She’s on the living room floor, about to give birth.”

  “Oh my God, what do we do?” I started to panic.

  Francesco placed his hands on my shoulders, holding me still. “First, you take a deep breath, then you go and get clean sheets and towels, then you tell everyone to give you some space. You’re the healer, remember. In the meantime, I’ll bring the men outside and we’ll call the doctor or an ambulance.”

  “All right,” I said, grateful for his calming presence. I took a deep breath and we followed Mum indoors.

  In a matter of minutes, we had everyone sorted out. Mum and Aunt Liliana went to collect some sheets and towels from upstairs, mainly to stop my aunt from running around like a headless chicken. The men wandered outside, taking Beatrice with them, and I could hear Francesco talking calmly on the phone. Davide made to follow them, but Giulia stopped him.

  “And where do you think you’re going?” she asked, glowering at him.

  “I-I was just…”

  “You started all this, you can stay here until it’s finished.”

  “But surely you’ll be better off without me…?” he started, then noticed Mum shaking her head violently at him. He meekly went over to Giulia and sat down on the floor, resting her head on his lap. “Comfortable?”

  “Oh yes, never felt better,” she wailed, then grimaced as another contraction pulsed through her body. She groaned as we lifted her up and placed towels and sheets underneath her. I looked up at Mum and Aunt Liliana.

  “Seems like this baby’s in a hurry to come out,” I said, my voice trembling slightly. “I don’t know if the ambulance will arrive in time. What do we do?”

  Aunt Liliana took a deep breath. “It’s not the first time I’ve had to do this,” she said, rolling up the sleeves on her blouse, “but it’s completely different when it’s your own daughter-in-law. Never mind, we’ll do what’s got to be done.” She went to the kitchen sink and washed her hands under hot water until they were bright red. Without turning, she called to me and Agnese. “You two had better scrub up as well. I’m only going to show you onc
e how it’s done.” Glancing at each other nervously, we joined her at the sink. Finally, looking at her lobster-red hands with a satisfied air, she knelt down by Giulia’s side and took charge.

  Just as we heard the wail of sirens in the distance, Giulia’s son made his appearance. Sliding out onto the fluffy towel, he blinked twice and tried to focus on this mysterious world he found himself in, then started bawling.

  Aunt Liliana sat back on her heels, a tired, soppy grin on her face. “Well done, Giulia,” she said, tears pouring down her cheeks. “You’ve got a healthy-looking boy there.”

  Giulia began sobbing as well, her body shaking after all it had been through. Davide bent over and kissed her forehead, hugging her. “You’re a star,” he whispered, “and I wouldn’t have missed this for the world.”

  We stood back as the ambulance crew burst through the back door and took over, quietly and efficiently. In a matter of minutes, everything was cleaned up, mother, father and baby were on their way to the hospital and the rest of us sat quietly in the living room.

  “So, healers, are you still convinced this is what you want to do for the rest of your lives?” Aunt Liliana asked, smiling at us.

  I nodded my head vigorously, and could see Agnese doing the same. “Absolutely,” we both said together. She hugged us, an expression of pride and joy on her face.

  “I wish Luisa could be here to see this,” she said, kissing my cheek. “She would be so happy to know that there are healers once again in the cottage.”

  “Oh, she knows, Aunt Liliana. Believe me, she knows.”

  Chapter Twenty-four

  The day before Mum was due to fly home, I showed her the wooden box I’d found in Mario’s desk. She was intrigued by the dragonfly carved on the lid, and by Mario’s drawings.

  “It would seem that dragonflies have some significance for our family, but I have no idea why,” she said. “That night in the garden, there was a dragonfly…”

  “It’s not the first time I’ve seen it,” I told her. “It led me to Malva’s grave the evening I sat outside drinking Luisa’s wine. There’s some connection, but I have no idea what. I’ve even looked through the book for clues, but there’s nothing.”

  “Well, I guess it’s up to you to discover the mystery,” Mum said. “Let me know if you do.”

  “Of course,” I replied. “Do you really have to leave tomorrow? I’m going to miss you.”

  “I’m going to miss you too. But your life is here now, and mine’s back in England.” She hesitated. “I might as well tell you… I’ve met someone.”

  “Really?” I leapt out of my chair and hugged her tightly. “That’s wonderful, Mum.”

  “Seriously, you’re pleased for me?” There was doubt written all over her face. “I thought… you know, your father…”

  “Mum, you’ve been on your own for years now. I think you deserve a bit of happiness at long last. I’m so happy for you. Now, tell me all about him…” As we chatted, the years of bitterness and discord melted away, leaving space for growth and nurturing.

  After she left, I wrote down Luisa’s story in a notebook, in as much detail as I could remember. I got the wooden chest out of my wardrobe, and took out Mario’s dragonfly drawings. I placed one at the back of the notebook, then tied it with a pretty blue ribbon I’d found. I went to place the notebook in the chest, then stopped, frowning. There was something odd about the box, but I couldn’t quite place my finger on it. I stared at it for a few minutes, and then it hit me. The bottom of the box was a few centimetres higher on the inside than on the outside. Was something hidden in there?

  I ran my fingertips all around the edge, trying to find a catch that would release the bottom, but there was nothing there. I grabbed a knife from a kitchen drawer and tried to force it between the edges but there wasn’t enough space to do it. Frustrated, I threw the knife down and sat back, thinking. I put my hands inside once more, pressing down gently, and suddenly heard a click. Hardly daring to breathe, I looked inside. The bottom was slightly askew. I took the knife again, and this time it was easy to wedge it underneath and lift up the piece of wood. Inside the secret compartment, I saw an oiled silk bag. I took it out and carefully pulled the drawstrings. I opened it and a rolled-up piece of material fell out, together with some dry, brittle leaves.

  When I unrolled it, I gasped.

  It was a beautiful tapestry, similar to the ones that are usually hung on walls, only this one was about the size of an A4 piece of paper. It was finely stitched with brightly coloured threads, and in the top left corner there was a banner with the words “Famiglia Innocenti”. Underneath it was a coat of arms. I drew in a sharp breath as I recognised the scene depicted below: the cottage with its garden and the Grove, the village, the surrounding mountains… the whole valley was shown, the threads still with their original, vibrant colours. On the right side of the tapestry, there was another scene of a typical manor house, village green and surrounding forest. It looked to me like an English village with a maypole set up in the middle of the green, small figures dancing around it.

  I stared at the tapestry, mesmerised by this incredible piece of artwork, and ran my fingertips lightly across its surface. For a moment, it was as if I was actually there. A soft breeze ruffled my hair, and I could hear children’s voices shouting with joy as the figures started moving, performing their complicated dance, weaving in and out and between one another with the brightly coloured ribbons.

  Startled, I jumped back, panting heavily. The voices continued to sing out, gradually fading away into nothingness as I returned to the real world. I took several deep breaths, trying to calm myself down.

  “I can’t do this today,” I murmured. “Sometime soon maybe, but not today.” I rolled the tapestry back up, taking care to only touch the back of it, and replaced it in the silk bag. My hands trembled as I put the bag back in the wooden chest and lay the false bottom on top of it, hearing it click once more into place. I lay my notebook on top and closed the lid of the chest, vowing not to speak about this with anyone. I put the box back inside my wardrobe, and went downstairs to Agnese.

  We spent our days learning how to become healers. Our first attempts were complete disasters; our creams were a lumpy mess that turned a horrible grey colour after a few hours, and our cordials were a cloudy, murky liquid with residue at the bottom of the bottle. But we learned from our mistakes, thanks to the detailed notes the previous healers had written next to each recipe, and our products gradually began to take on a more professional appearance. After testing them on ourselves, we then moved on to the family, where they had a surprising success. Giulia swore by our postnatal creams and recommended them to all her pregnant friends. The villagers once more began beating a path to the cottage door, buying remedies for every ailment I’d ever heard of, and quite a few I hadn’t.

  We mastered the art of keeping a straight face while the villagers told us all about their most intimate problems. The women were the worst, they had no qualms talking about their various bodily functions, but some of the men were pretty open, too. For an Englishwoman who’d only ever heard the answer, “Fine, thanks,” to the question, “How are you today?”, it was quite an eye-opener.

  Francesco started working on the repairs around the cottage, arriving early in the morning and usually staying until after dinner in the evening. Bella became his shadow, following him around everywhere.

  “You two seem to be getting on very well,” Agnese remarked one morning, noticing my flushed face. I’d been out in the garden explaining to Francesco how I wanted to turn the garage into a laboratory, and we’d ended up having a heated discussion about whether to get planning permission from the council or not.

  “Humph,” I grunted, still feeling het up. “He says we can just turn the garage into a lab without bothering the council. But I’d like to make it official, to save any problems in the future.”

  Agnese started giggling. “Oh, Jennifer, you’re so British when you talk like that. Try
to remember you’re in Italy now, things work differently here.”

  “Really?” I said haughtily. “Maybe you’d like to enlighten me.”

  As she explained to me how Italian bureaucracy worked, I realised that I still had a lot to learn about this country. With all the rules and regulations that Italians worked so hard to break and get around as much as possible, it was completely different from England, and I felt a sudden pang of nostalgia.

  “I guess I owe Francesco an apology, then,” I commented when she’d finished.

  “You can start by making me a coffee,” he said, as he came in the back door, shaking water off his coat. “It’s just started pouring down so I doubt I’ll be able to get much more done today. But if you like, we can start drawing up some plans for your laboratory?”

  I smiled through gritted teeth, still sore about being wrong. “Of course, that’d be great. And I suppose you’d like lunch as well?”

  “Thought you’d never ask,” he grinned, winking at Agnese.

  We called a truce, and I had to admit that I liked having him around the house. The leaky roof was fixed before winter truly set in, and he repainted the bedroom ceiling that had become discoloured with damp over the years. He slowly worked around the house, fixing every little thing, and just as slowly worked his way into my heart. Agnese and I had long discussions about him, but I was adamant that she, the baby, the cottage, and our work would come before everything else. I’d already been burnt twice, I wasn’t about to jump back in the fire again.

  Agnese’s pregnancy progressed, her stomach swelling as the baby inside her grew strong and healthy. Everything was all right with her routine visits, and we talked excitedly about the day the baby would be a part of our family. Whenever we saw Giulia with Antonio, it would only make us yearn even more for the future.

  Winter in the mountains was very different from anything I’d experienced in England. It was unbearably cold; Agnese and Francesco burst out laughing the first time they saw me all wrapped up in layers and layers of jumpers. After the long, hot summer, I hadn’t been expecting this drop in temperature at all.