The Truth About You

by Susan Lewis

  Carlotta frowned in confusion and looked to Marco. After he’d translated she turned back to Lainey, shaking her head. ‘No, no, child,’ she exclaimed vehemently, ‘Luigi Valente is not your father. Maybe your grandfather, but I think even your grandmother, Melvina, does not know this for certain. Aldo, he always believe Alessandra is his, and Melvina, this is what she tell the world, that Alessandra is the daughter of Aldo. After what happen to her son . . . Do you know this, that Melvina had a son who die very young?’

  Lainey nodded and waited while Marco related what they’d been told by Signor Donata.

  ‘Si, si, I think this is true about the wife of Valente,’ Carlotta responded. ‘She was not a good woman. Of course, I am not born at this time, but my mother, she tell me when I am older about the curse on the son of Melvina. I know it is hard to believe in such things, but I am sure it was right for Melvina to tell everyone Aldo is the father of Alessandra. This way they keep her safe.’

  Coming to sit at the table again, she took one of Lainey’s hands and held it in both of hers. For a long time she simply gazed at Lainey’s fingers, seeming absorbed by the neutrally painted nails, the creases around her knuckles, the platinum band of her wedding ring. ‘I understand you want to know who is your father,’ she said in the end, ‘but, mia bambina, it is not an easy story to tell, and I think it is,’ she glanced at Marco, ‘piu difficile per te sentire.’

  ‘More difficult for you to hear,’ Marco translated.

  Lainey nodded, and attempted a smile of reassurance. Whatever the truth, she’d come this far, so she wasn’t going to allow herself to turn back.

  Carlotta’s eyes drifted for a moment, and when she spoke it was hard to read her expression. However, the bitterness of her tone was enough to convey her feelings. ‘It was Melvina, your grandmother, who cause the trouble,’ she stated bluntly. She looked at Lainey. ‘My mother always she say no one understand how gentle soul like Maria can have daughter like Melvina.’ She took a breath and shook her head. ‘You speak already of Valente,’ she continued, ‘so you know that he and Melvina . . .’

  When she stopped Lainey realised she didn’t want to put Melvina’s carnal sins into words, so she nodded and said, ‘Yes, we know.’

  ‘But he is not your father,’ Carlotta assured her. ‘I cannot be sure if he is your grandfather, I can only tell you what my mother tell me, that when Melvina is on the island after the death of her son, Valente does not go there during this time. Only Aldo is there and when they return to Tuoro she is pregnant with Alessandra. Perhaps Valente and Melvina find a way to see each other when she is on the island, I do not know, but Aldo always say that Alessandra is his. Whether he believe it only he knows, but the world pity him, because they know that Melvina is crazy for Valente. She have no care for her child, or her immortal soul, she care only for this man.’

  Looking down at Lainey’s hand again, she folded her own more closely around it.

  ‘The trouble, it begin,’ she said, ‘when your mother, Alessandra, is sixteen and Valente see her for first time since she is grown. Like her mother, she is very beautiful, very how you say, sviluppata?’

  ‘Developed,’ Marco told her.

  ‘Si, she is much developed for her age, and of course she is young and Melvina is now not so young. I do not know how Melvina find out that Valente want her daughter, maybe he tell her himself, or maybe she understand this from seeing him with Alessandra. Alessandra, she is how you say, playful with the boys. Not in a way to cause trouble, you understand, but she flirt a little and she like to have the attention. And the boys . . . they give her the attention. Always when we do il passeggio, she is the one they choose and it depend on her mood if she will walk with them. Sometimes she will, sometimes she will not. Some people say, after it all happen, that she bring it on herself with the way she is, but this is not true. It is her mother who make it happen. It is her mother who is so gelosa that she is the one who will suffer for all eternity for what she do to her daughter.’

  Realising her throat had gone dry, Lainey picked up her drink and took a sip. She couldn’t even begin to guess what Carlotta was about to tell her, nor did she want to try. It was in the past now, so whatever it was, it couldn’t hurt her – please God.

  ‘Alessandra, she swear to me,’ Carlotta continued, ‘that she never do bad things with Valente. He want her, he beg her, but she is good Catholic like her grandmother, Maria. And Valente, he is old man. Never she want him. She tell her mother this, but Melvina is crazy with the jealous. She does not believe her. She send her to the island to be with her grandmother, so Valente does not see her, but Alessandra she come back to Tuoro, and Valente, one day he come to the apartment when only Alessandra is there. Melvina find them laughing together and Alessandra, because she is angry with her mother, she flirt with Valente in a way to make Melvina think something happen with them.’

  Carlotta’s hand was shaking noticeably as she took a sip of her drink and dabbed her mouth with a tissue. She was no longer meeting Lainey’s eyes; instead she was staring blindly, painfully into the past.

  ‘Melvina she do nothing until Valente is gone,’ she continued, ‘then she take Alessandra by the hair and she drag her into Piazza Marconi where is their apartment, calling her terrible names. My mother and me, we hear the screams, and we run out to see what happens. Melvina is in terrible rage. She drag Alessandra to the church and push her into il confessionale. Padre Angelo he come and Melvina tell Alessandra to confess her sin. Alessandra swear she has no sin but Melvina does not believe her. The padre, he try to make Melvina calm, but Melvina cannot control her rage. She tell Alessandra she is no longer her daughter, she cannot come home. Alessandra beg her to listen, but when they get to the apartment Melvina slam the door in her face and say she never want to see her again.

  ‘Alessandra is very scared. She run back through the village and down to the lake. She want to get to her grandmother, but it is dark now and there are no boats. She say she never hear anyone coming behind her, she only know when she is forced to the ground and the terrible things begin to happen to her.’

  As Carlotta stopped to take a breath, Lainey could feel herself recoiling from the horror of her words. Her mother was raped. This was how she was conceived.

  ‘After it is over,’ Carlotta continued, ‘the attackers, there are two of them, they leave her where she is and it is my uncle who find her the next day. He bring her to us and she tell me she is sure one of them is the priest, because he wear a long black gown, but she did not see his face. She knows she cannot say this to anyone, because they will never believe her. So she keep it to herself, and ask me to do the same. Then, few weeks later, while she is with Maria on the island, she learn she is pregnant and she is so unhappy she want to die.’ Carlotta’s lips were trembling now, her face pale as tears filled her eyes. ‘You understand, Elenora, she did not know you then . . .’

  ‘Of course I understand,’ Lainey assured her. What mother would want a child who’d been fathered in such a way? In fact, if Alessandra hadn’t been Catholic Lainey was sure she’d never have been born.

  ‘I do not know if God in His mercy will ever forgive Melvina for how she turn her back on Alessandra, both before and after the attack. She is afraid, of course, that Valente is the father, and this she cannot bear. So she send Alessandra back to the island and tell her she must never leave.’

  Lainey’s pity for her mother was overwhelming. She could fully understand now why Alessandra had never wanted to see Melvina again. She even understood why she’d wanted Melvina to think she’d named her daughter after her. It would not have been what Melvina wanted to hear: it would have been like a punishment, an attempt to add to her shame.

  ‘I am sorry, Elenora, for what I am telling you,’ Carlotta said, tightening her hold on Lainey’s hand. ‘Whether God will forgive those who do this to your mother, only He know. Maybe the men they confess and receive absolution, but Melvina . . .’ She shook her head hopelessly.

&n
bsp; Swallowing the bile in her throat, Lainey asked, ‘So what happened after she went back to the island?’

  Carlotta sighed. ‘It is very difficult time for everyone, because Alessandra, she will no longer go to the church and this upset Maria very much. It upset Aldo too. He think, like Melvina, that Valente is the father of the child, and he want, when the baby come, that Alessandra give it to the nuns. But when the time come Alessandra will not do it. At first I think she keep you to punish her mother, she say this is true, but then, when it is clear how much this is hurting Maria, she still will not give you up. In the end Maria write to her cousin in England to ask if you can go to her. So after il battesimo Alessandra agree to this. She take you with her to London and we . . . we never see her again.’

  Feeling almost as emotional as Carlotta at the thought of her mother, so young and alone, making the journey to a life she could barely even imagine, in a country whose language she couldn’t speak, Lainey had to let a moment pass. ‘And Melvina?’ she said hoarsely. ‘We were told that she left the village.’

  Carlotta nodded. ‘Yes, in the end she go too. She have to, it is not possible for her to stay because when Valente find out what Melvina do to her own daughter because of him, he is disgusted. He will not see her any more, and for Melvina this is terrible. So Aldo take her away. They go south to Calabria where there is distant family of Aldo. I think they also live for a while in Sicilia, but it is many, many years before they return to Umbria.’

  Lainey blinked. ‘They came back?’

  Carlotta nodded. ‘Si, si, they are here now, not so far from Tuoro.’

  Lainey’s heart turned over. ‘Are you saying . . .’ She was hardly grasping this. ‘Are you saying my grandparents are still alive?’

  Carlotta’s expression seemed to close. ‘It is how you say, un’ironia?’ she asked Marco.

  ‘An irony,’ he replied.

  ‘Si, it is una strana ironia that Melvina now live in the villa of Valente. My mother say this is always the dream of Melvina and we see that it now come true, but today the villa is only for the old people who have la demenza.’

  ‘Dementia?’ Lainey asked, glancing at Marco.

  He nodded.

  What an irony indeed, and still trying to take it in, Lainey said, ‘So who has dementia? Both of them . . .?’

  ‘No, it is only Melvina who lose her mind. Aldo, he have small apartment in new part of the villa that is next door, and he go every day to see Melvina in the place where are the people who must have special care.’

  Lainey looked at Marco again, not sure what she wanted to say.

  He spoke quietly to Carlotta in Italian, and after she’d replied, he said, ‘I asked if it is possible to visit them, and la signora say that it is. She thinks it is not likely that Melvina will understand who you are, but she is sure that Aldo will.’

  Lainey was still finding it hard to make herself think. After hearing all that she had, she couldn’t be sure what she wanted to do about anything now. What she did know, however, was that right at this moment she’d give almost anything to be with Peter.

  During the drive back to Tuoro Lainey sat quietly, almost numbly, gazing out of the window, still trying to absorb what she’d been told. Her mind was in a turmoil of indecision. She’d already turned down Marco’s offer to detour to the old Valente villa, not because she was ruling out seeing her grandparents, but because she simply didn’t feel ready for it yet. She needed some time to think, to try to come to terms with the way they had turned their backs on Alessandra – and on her.

  Her eyes closed as her mother’s terror on that night seemed to come alive for her. The fear, degradation, helplessness and sense of betrayal she must have felt was beyond anything Lainey could imagine. She understood completely now why Alessandra had never been able to tell her about it; why she’d found it so hard to have a normal relationship with her. It must have been all but impossible for her mother to look at her and not remember how she’d been conceived. Lainey wondered if she’d ever detected signs of the priest in the shape of her daughter’s eyes, her mannerisms, or sound of her laughter.

  She asked herself, would she, in her mother’s place, keep a baby who’d come to her that way? Since she wasn’t a Catholic, and was living in a different time, it wouldn’t be the same sort of issue for her, but for Alessandra it must have been truly devastating when she’d learned she was pregnant. So why hadn’t she let her baby go to the nuns? It could surely only have been as Carlotta had said, to punish Melvina, and though Lainey didn’t blame her mother for wanting to exact her revenge, fearing that was all she’d meant to Alessandra was making her feel wretched. Yet she was sure her mother had come to love her over time, even if she hadn’t at the start. She must make herself hold on to that now, and turn away from the dreadful self-pity that was struggling to swamp her.

  ‘We are close to the turning for the old Valente villa,’ Marco told her, ‘if you would like to change your mind . . .’

  She shook her head. ‘No. Thank you.’ It wasn’t only that she needed more time, it was the fact that it didn’t seem right to go there with Marco. He’d been so kind, so supportive throughout everything, but the person she really wanted to see was Tom. Her heart twisted as she realised she was going to have to get used to him not being there for her any more. Nevertheless, if she rang to tell him what she’d learned today she felt sure he’d listen, even though it was unlikely to affect him now. She was not his main concern.

  ‘Would you like me to come in?’ Marco offered, as they pulled up outside the Villa Constantia. The doors and shutters were all closed, telling her no one was at home.

  ‘Thanks, but I’ll be fine,’ she assured him.

  He didn’t appear convinced. ‘I’m truly sorry for what you’ve learned today,’ he said softly.

  Her smile was flat. Her father was a rapist who might also have been a priest. ‘I’ll call you later,’ she promised.

  After he’d gone she went to stand on the terrace and gazed down at the village, scattered on its own small hilltop overlooking the lake. She thought of the secrets buried in its heart, and of how nothing, no amount of regret, forgiveness or penance, could ever right the wrongs inflicted on her mother. Her eyes travelled on to the silvery blur of the horizon, where the mountains seemed part of another world. A tear rolled on to her cheek as she remembered how Alessandra had called out for her grandmother at the end. She wondered if, on some level, Maria had heard her.

  In her heart she was calling out for her mother now. She wanted to see her so much, to tell her she understood and how sorry she was for all that had happened to her. She waited as though expecting a whisper on the breeze, or a sign in the shimmering air, but the world was quiet and still.

  She had never, she realised, felt so utterly alone. Her mother was gone for ever, and nothing could bring her back, Peter was slipping away, and Tom was leaving too. How was she going to make herself go forward from here?

  Hearing the gates opening and a car coming through, she dabbed at her tears and went to unlock the door. She didn’t want the children to see how anguished she was, it would only upset them, and it was going to be hard enough telling them what she’d learned today. She could already imagine Tierney’s shock, Zav’s confusion, Max’s disgust. It wouldn’t surprise her if Tierney ended up wanting to visit Aldo with her, should she decide to go, and maybe she’d let her. She mustn’t shut her out the way Alessandra had shut her out; no good could ever come of that.

  A few minutes later Zav and Alfie were wandering across the lawn to the terrace, while Skye stood at the car, talking to Max.

  ‘Where’s Tierney?’ Lainey called out.

  Max and Skye looked up. ‘I thought she went with you,’ Max replied.

  Lainey’s heart caught on a beat of unease. ‘No. She decided not to come in the end. She said she was going to give you a call.’

  Max shrugged and started towards the villa. ‘She must be inside,’ he said, ‘or down at the pool.’


  Lainey went through to check while Zav ran down to the pool.

  ‘She’s not here, Mum,’ Zav called as he started back.

  Lainey looked at Skye, who merely repeated what Max had said: ‘I thought she went with you.’

  ‘She must have gone for a walk,’ Max decided, pulling out his mobile.

  Lainey was searching frantically for a note.

  Skye was already busy texting, and remembering she hadn’t checked her messages since leaving Carlotta’s, Lainey began scrolling through them. At last she found a text from Tierney, sent a couple of hours ago.

  I’m all right, Mum. Please don’t worry about me.

  As confusion jarred with alarm, Lainey showed her phone to Max. ‘What does that mean?’ she demanded. ‘Where is she?’

  At a loss, Max turned to Skye, who shook her head. ‘No idea,’ she answered, convincingly.

  Lainey was dialling Tierney’s number. Finding herself going straight to voicemail, she said, ‘Darling, where are you? I’m very worried, please call me the minute you get this.’

  Chapter Nineteen

  IT WAS SUNDAY morning now, and Lainey was beside herself with worry. Tierney hadn’t come home all night, nor had she rung to say where she was. At least she’d texted, but only to repeat Promise I’m OK. Please don’t worry.

  But how could Lainey not worry when she had absolutely no idea where Tierney was, or who she might be with? Max seemed genuinely to have no clue, and Skye was insisting she didn’t know what was going on either. Lainey wasn’t sure she believed her, but short of threatening her with something drastic if she didn’t speak up, she had no way of getting any information out of her. However, if Tierney wasn’t back by the end of the day, Skye was going to find herself in very deep trouble.

  ‘I keep thinking about this married-man business,’ Lainey said to Stacy on the phone, ‘but she swore it wasn’t true. Of course she would, she’d hardly admit it, would she?’