Beyond The Island

by Mackenzie, Brenda

  Sitting with Tom in the café, the sounds of clattering dishes and loud conversations whisked Joanne back to the present. She watched local workmen tucking into large bowls of fish stew – clearly a favourite choice since the fish would have been freshly caught.

  ‘There must be many ‘favours’ given to keep the system oiled,’ Tom volunteered.

  When they’d both finished and ordered coffee, Tom commented. ‘Mind you, if we could get your friend Fabio to speak out...’

  Joanne carefully put down her cup as her thoughts turned to the awkward position that would place Fabio. ‘No Tom, I can’t do that. Fabio is right to shield his sister from anything that could cause a rift between her and Renzo.’

  Tom nodded. ‘It was only speculation.’

  ‘I realize that.’ Joanne looked up with a smile. ‘You’re great to sit here listening...’ Without warning, a horrible thought came. She stiffened. Perhaps those expensive dinners Renzo treated her with were paid by the immigrant’s labour.

  ‘What is it Joanne?’ Tom’s blue eyes expressed concern.

  ‘Renzo’s very clever,’ she went on, ‘you never know what he’s really thinking - very charming and kind to his family, but I sense he’d turn nasty if I don’t go along as if there’s nothing untoward. What in the Hell do you imagine he has in mind for me? I can’t believe there’s no pay back for his generosity!’

  ‘He does sound an unknown quantity,’ Tom said wryly. He leaned forward and touched her arm. ‘But having met you Joanne, I believe this Renzo saw a delightful companion he could relax with, so to speak. In other words, no one could ever see you as an obstacle, in particular this man.’

  Joanne wasn’t convinced but decided to go along with it. ‘Maybe that’s it then,’ she said thoughtfully, ‘he just needs to switch off and sail with someone who’s never been to Ischia, a simple soul who wouldn’t have any interest in his business.’

  ‘Guess that must be it,’ Tom affirmed with a chuckle. His tone changed. ‘I am concerned for you, Joanne - you know, as two strangers amongst the natives. Keep my mobile phone number and ring me day or night, and I’ll get to you right away; that’s what friends are for, okay?’

  He gained Valerio’s attention and asked for the bill.

  ‘Thank you Tom. I’m so grateful.’ Strengthening her voice, Joanne said, ‘I can’t tell you how good your interest makes me feel.’

  Tom changed the subject. ‘You’ve reinforced what I’d already discovered. This Renzo Balzarin sounds a wily character.’ His eyes lit with mischief as he added, ‘I suggest you hang out more with his cousin, this Fabio guy. I’d be interested to meet him with you, Joanne. You know I said earlier I wasn’t interested in getting involved with malpractices, but I’ve altered my views. It gets to me how people who are desperate can be exploited. Immigrants are trapped if they get tricked into working for low wages.’ He hesitated. ‘What do you think about us taking another tour of the Winery before you leave the Island?’

  Joanne’s mouth pursed as she considered the idea. ‘I appreciate the suggestion but I’m wary of attracting attention. Word gets about on the Island and people will know by now my connection with the boss, Renzo.’

  ‘Yes, that’s true. Look, maybe I’ll do a bit more sniffing around the place myself and let you know if there’s anything to link this Renzo Balzarin to illegal goings on. Mind you, I can’t think how that could harm you by the way.’

  ‘No.’ Joanne sighed, ‘but...’

  Tom had turned away to acknowledge an acquaintance and failed to hear.

  After they left the café he walked with her as far as the harbour. Conscious of burdening him with her worries, Joanne kept their conversation light. ‘I hope it’s not all work and no play, Tom?’ She asked with a grin.

  ‘Oh, I take some time off – hire a bike to go exploring or have a swim. ‘By the way, I’m staying over a baker shop in Stradale Pescatore, not far from the cafe,’ he said. ‘you’ll keep in touch, eh?’

  ‘Of course, Tom, and thanks for the lunch and listening to me. It’s helped sort a few things.’

  ***

  Tom had given her much to think about. Joanne walked slowly as she tried to make sense of what Renzo could possibly be involved with. She frowned and stopped to sit on the harbour wall, her mind closed to all the activity in the harbour.

  What if everything was just conjecture on her part, and did Tom really have any proof that linked Renzo to anything untoward? She heaved a sigh and the salty tang of the sea merely reminded her of sailing, the waves breaking over Bountiful’s bow and the thrill of mastering the sea. Why couldn’t she just relax and enjoy the wonderful opportunity that had come her way? A sudden idea filled her head. She extracted her phone from her bag and tapped in Angelina’s number.

  ‘Pronto.’ Angelina answered.

  ‘Joanne here, is it an OK time to speak?’

  ‘Of course, Joanne! I was thinking if giving you a call myself – we must be telepathic! Is there something special to tell me?’

  ‘No,’ Joanne hesitated. ‘I just felt like talking to a friend.’

  ‘Oh, I am so pleased. Look, are you free tomorrow? Would you like to come with me to the children’s school? They’ve been begging me to bring you and …’

  ‘I’d really love to!’ Joanne exclaimed. ’I can be ready when it suits you.’

  ‘That’s lovely then – I’ll pick you up in the morning and give you a call to let you know what time.’

  Chapter 12

  Angelina smiled as she explained, ‘This is where my children go to school. We run it privately; the village school had to close because of dwindling numbers. There are no Primary schools nearby and for Scuola media – that’s middle school, they all travel to Naples to further their education.’

  Joanne thought how fulfilling it must be taking part in your children’s education and being an active part of the community.’

  Angelina hesitated before saying, ‘If you ever consider coming here to live on the Island, we would be delighted to employ you – for a salary of course. I’m asking because most of our children speak only Italian or German and we are really keen for them to learn correct English. I understand you teach at the School of English in Rome? Perhaps you’d consider the idea of teaching here?’ she said.

  Taken by surprise, Joanne’s mind leapt ahead, thinking that her contract with the School in Rome would soon end. But this was crazy! Could she consider moving to Ischia? A surge of excitement rushed through her as the idea took a hold and didn’t seem too outlandish.

  Joanne felt her response was needed. ‘Thank you Angelina; that’s such a generous offer.’ She bit her lip. ‘I appreciate your invitation; sounds a delightful prospect. I just don’t know if I’m ready to settle down anywhere. It would be a very big step.’

  The idea continued to play around Joanne’s head as they drove away from the school. The chance of working amongst children was certainly appealing.

  Angelina didn’t bring up the subject again. The roar of the large car’s engine as it powered them uphill made conversation impossible, but the surprising offer stuck in Joanne’s mind.

  ‘We’ll have some lunch and then I’ll drive you back,’ Angelina said with a smile. She pulled over to the side of the road and parked the car in the shade of a high stone wall.

  Joanne stepped out and smoothed her wrinkled skirt. Even the flimsy sleeved shirt she’d worn now clung to her hot body. The heat pressed upon her and the sudden silence seemed ready to explode about the hills until the echo of a distant vehicle climbing the hill impinged.

  Together they approached an old stone building, which housed the restaurant, and the air was instantly filled by the murmur of many voices.

  ‘I hope you approve of my choice?’ Angelina gave Joanne a quick smile.

  ‘Oh, very much thank you!’ “Il Trattoria Rustica” was the kind of place Joanne enjoyed; unpretentious and buzzing with contented diners. ‘Perfect,’ she exclaimed.

  They w
ere guided towards a table, partially shaded by overhanging wisteria, the heavy mauve flowers scented the clear air. Terracotta pots of vivid geraniums and marigolds enhanced the flagstone terrace.

  ‘I’ll be breaking the scales with all this lovely food!’ Joanne murmured as she studied the menu.

  Angelina shook her head. ‘You are so slim,’ she said. ‘Wait ‘til you produce kids like I have!’ She prodded her stomach.

  ‘No, you are just perfect.’

  Nevertheless, they both selected a simple pasta dish to accompany a salad of artichokes and baby squid. She felt privileged to find a friend like Angelina. As they sipped their glasses of chilled aqua vita, conversation flowed easily between them and ranged over many things. Joanna remarked on the school children’s enjoyment of gardening their little plots and expressed an interest in growing her own vegetables and herbs.

  ‘I could teach you a little, point you in the right direction,’ Angelina said encouragingly. ‘Somehow I can’t picture you owning such a prized thing as a garden in Rome. A house in Rome with a garden - there would cost,’ she made a sign, ‘quite a few trillion bucks to put it mildly!’ As she shook her head, her mane of hair swung about her tanned shoulders. ‘Most people would be lucky to afford a small apartment in that city.’

  ‘Yes, I know.’ Joanne shrugged. ‘It’s a fantasy really. Anyway, there’s all that pollution from traffic so I don’t think I’d fancy eating the crop anyway.’

  ‘Well, one day – you never know,’ Angelina concluded vaguely. And then without preamble, she changed the subject. ‘I am very concerned that my brother and cousin seem to make no contact,’ she declared with a frown. ‘have you noticed, Joanne? It’s as if they purposely ignore one another.’ She hesitated. ‘I don’t really know Renzo anymore; he’s changed, seems awfully arrogant at times and so single minded about making money. I wish my brother and cousin were as close as once they were.’

  Her comment came as a surprise. Delighted she had not been alone in thinking the same, Joanne nodded. ‘Yes,’ she said slowly and nodded as though it had just occurred to her. I had hoped we’d all meet for dinner that night.’ All the while, Joanne strove to think how she could bring in her concern about Renzo into the conversation.

  Perhaps, Joanne thought much later, if she’d not been so quick to broach something else that puzzled her she’d have learned what Renzo was involved with. But emotion took over for she longed to know more about Fabio.

  ‘I first noticed this when I asked Renzo if Fabio sailed with him,’ she volunteered. ‘I believe he tried to side track me because he didn’t answer, but slowly began to explain about your mother’s accident in Fabio’s boat.’ Joanne halted. ‘Will it upset you if I talk about your mother? Do please say.’

  Angelina shook her head. ‘No, it’s quite all right. I still miss her but the years have softened the memories.’

  ‘Renzo inferred the accident is the explanation for Fabio not sailing now. Renzo said in any case, Fabio prefers driving his Morgan car and finding places to paint. I understand you all shared a small boat and loved to go sailing together as children.’

  ‘Yes, we had a magical childhood.’ Angelina’s brows puckered and for a few moments she remained silent. ‘I hesitate to burden you with family affairs Joanne, but about Fabio - I know you’ve been seeing a little of one another and it might help to hear your views. Fabio may appear well adjusted and at ease with himself, but I sense he harbours guilt for how our mother died, even though that happened years ago when he was a twelve year old boy and now he’s twenty nine. Otherwise, why would he not go sailing anymore? It was one of his greatest joys; he still has a small boat, by the way, a little wooden dinghy with an outboard motor to potter about in the harbour. He looks after it too, almost as if it brings him comfort. But the boat never goes to sea. I can’t believe it still affects my brother even after so many years have passed. He was a only a twelve year old boy, you know, so I’m certain there must be another reason he’s taken against sailing with Renzo.’

  Angelina’s eyes half closed as she said wistfully, ‘we three children; me, Renzo and Fabio held a ceremony, broke a bottle of fizzy lemonade on her bow and named our boat ‘Gloriana.’’ Her face momentarily relaxed as she recalled, ‘We must have been between the ages of seven and thirteen when our parents first allowed us to sail unsupervised. Storms blow up quickly on the Island and no one blamed Fabio when the boat capsized in a sudden gust. Besides, it was Mother herself who persuaded him to take her – she was always tempting providence and giving our father a scare – and she’d chosen that day to go sailing alone with Fabio. He would be going to school on the mainland after the holidays and I suppose her idea to take a picnic up the coast was because she felt he’d soon grow away from her.’

  She sighed. ‘My brother would be a wonderful person to teach my children to sail but I don’t believe it will happen.’

  Joanne was saddened once again to hear about their loss. If only she had the right words to give Angelina some measure of comfort instead of merely nodding with sympathy. She noted with a prick of anxiety that Angelina hadn’t expressed a wish that Renzo would instruct her children to sail.

  Joanne felt compelled to voice her own opinion. ‘I think it’s just that as adults, their way of life differs and they can’t find common ground to communicate now.’

  Angelina gave Joanne a weak smile. ‘Thank you for trying to soften my concern. I truly value your friendship, Joanne.’

  ‘As I do yours.’ Once again Joanne pressed Angelina’s hand in hers. ‘I’m so happy to have you as my friend. I feel at home here.’

  Angelina bit her lip as if in doubt, a gesture that seemed out of character for she was normally very positive. It seemed she meant to explain something else, but all she said was ‘I can’t reveal...’ she stopped and her expression altered so quickly, Joanne wondered if she’d misheard.

  Later, when Angelina had dropped her back at the hotel, Joanne reviewed the events of that day. The offer to teach English at the school surfaced in her head and she wondered if Angelina had engineered her visit to the school to plant the idea, hoping for Joanne to come and live on Ischia. Had this been her wish all along?

  Even as she shrugged the idea of living on the Island away, it lodged in her subconscious before her head once again was filled with thoughts of Fabio.

  ***

  Renzo was his usual imperturbable self when he arrived at the hotel the next day, clearly unaware of Joanne’s anxieties about him. She heaved a breath of relief, thankful not to detect anything that might reveal he knew about her visit to the Winery. Added to that, she had no intention of telling him about her encounter with Marco. Renzo’s negative attitude was clear when it came to Joanne having contact with the locals. Besides, Marco’s rude comments now hardly seemed worth considering.

  ‘I’m so pleased to be free today,’ Renzo smiled as he playfully chucked her under the chin. ‘No business to deal with. It’s about time we had a full day’s sail, eh? Fresh air and the open sea appeal to you?’

  ‘Yes I’d love to, thanks Renzo. That’ll be great.’ She replied brightly to hide her qualms. She caught the scent of his expensive eau de Cologne which didn’t seem appropriate when pursuing outdoor activity. ‘I’ll go and get my things together; shan’t be long.’ Joanne wondered once more what lurked beneath his smooth, urbane surface, his manner that always seemed too controlled as though he’d rehearsed a part in a play.

  Joanne left the lounge and hurried to her room; the chance to decline sailing had slipped away. Though, Renzo’s generous sailing instruction was a chance of a lifetime and he’d stated that she was fast becoming a competent sailor.

  On Joanne’s return to the lounge, she found Renzo gazing out at the gardens. He turned, his mouth lifting on one side in a half smile as he spoke.

  ‘I’ve got a surprise,’ he drawled.

  Quickly she raised her eyebrows and replied, ‘I guess that means wait to find out?’ even as she felt a pri
ck of anxiety. It seemed her response was the right one.

  He nodded and gave her a sidelong glance. ‘Yes, wait and see,’ was all he would say.

  On board the yacht, Joanne listened attentively as Renzo once more ran through details of handling the vessel under all weather conditions.

  ‘I’ll explain the use of the self-steering gear again. It’s an important skill. Do ask any questions, won’t you – anything you don’t understand?’

  ‘I shall. So far everything seems straightforward.’ It did occur that he was rather insistent she learn about the self-steering and couldn’t imagine when she’d use it.

  ‘Good.’ Renzo turned away and began to hoist the mainsail.

  The yacht performed gracefully, its sails taut in accord with the wind. As they headed into deeper water, the motion wrought a sense of wellbeing and calmed Joanne’s mind; that was until he bellowed,

  ‘Look lively, Joanne!’

  She focused her attention and set to, tightening shackles and keeping a lookout for other craft and so hardly noticed the Islet approaching,

  Gone was his use of endearment. On board he’d become the masterful boss.

  ‘We’ll drop anchor soon. Keep her steady on course; wait until I tell you to go about.’

  Typical man! Joanne thought wryly; always in their element giving orders. She was grateful, nevertheless. Thanks to Renzo she was honing her skills and now responded quickly to instructions.

  ‘I’ve planned to take you here!’ Renzo couldn’t contain his delight as he indicated the ruins of the Fortress now sharply etched against the skyline.

  Ripples of anticipation coursed through Joanne and she supposed Renzo had used his persuasive powers to permit them to land on the private Islet.

  Renzo dropped anchor, lowered the mainsail, checked everything was ship shape and then let the dinghy down on the water. He stepped into it and grasped the rope ladder suspended from Bountiful to keep it steady while Joanne passed down his canvas bag, her satchel and the basket containing their lunch. Then she lowered herself down the ladder from the yacht and stepped into the small dinghy.