He leaned against me more firmly and I felt his breath warm against the side of my neck. ‘I don’t care about the future, I care about now.’ That jolted me, I remembered the biggest thing I had heard about him but felt I couldn’t say. ‘You have given me so much Maddie. You have let me be myself, you have listened to me and encouraged me and if you’re not there I think I will stop being me again. This is my last chance, without it my family - all that - will take me back and I will be lost. They have always told me what I should be, who I should love. When I was a boy I wanted to be a poet, but here I am, a vineyard master – an ‘Amarena’ and I don’t want to be.’
I felt a touch of wetness on my shoulder and realised that he was crying. I turned around and held him tightly. ‘Listen to me Sergio. I have never met anybody so in touch, so at peace with who they are, as you. I have lived outside of my own skin for so many years that it was only when I stepped back in; here, in this place; that I realised it had happened at all. Maybe I have given you a little courage but only to help you realise what was there all the time. I didn’t create it.’
He buried his head deeper into my neck and we stood there for several minutes. The air became suddenly sweet and then covered us in a blanket of warm rain.
Even before Mr Amarena finally came to see me I knew things had changed. The dream, the fantasy of an affair, without consequence or responsibility, had ended. We carried on much as normal but there were occasional glimpses of desperation in us both. However, neither of us had the inclination or the courage to do anything other than pretend. I suppose you could say that our honesty had finally failed us.
I was in the garden, clearing grass that had crept into one of the beds, when a shadow fell over me and darkened my hand. I turned round, squinting against the light, expecting to see Sergio.
‘I am sorry to disturb you Maddie, but I have just got back from my trip and Sergio told me you have done wonderful things with the garden. I see he was not wrong.’
‘Thank you Mr Amarena, it is lovely to see you.’
‘Fabrizio, please.’ He came over and kissed me on both cheeks. One of his large hands rested on my waist and stayed there for a few seconds after we had moved apart.
‘Shall I give you a tour?’
‘I would like that very much.’
I took him slowly around the main garden at the front of the house. I had framed lower, flowering plants and shrubs against larger architectural plants – mostly grasses and palms. I had taken out all the straight lines, and instead brought together paths, beds and lawn in series of curves and snaking lines. At the back of the house, I had also created a small kitchen-garden with herbs and raised vegetable beds. I was proud of what I had achieved, and glad for the opportunity to show it off to the man who had not only been paying me, but had given me the chance to escape the prison that my old life had become, and have the space to heal myself.
‘It is wonderful. I talked for a long time to your father, he is very proud of you Maddie, he told me you would be the right person for the job, and it seems that the job was right for the person too.’
‘It is, it’s been exactly what I needed and I am very grateful to you and your family.’
‘And Sergio, I hope he has been looking after you in my absence?’ He stopped and looked at me. Although he was well into his sixties, he was still a handsome man, and held himself proudly.
‘I’m not sure, well, I mean, yes he has. He has been a good friend.’
‘More than a friend perhaps?’
I didn’t know what to say, I was annoyed but intimidated at the same time.
‘Please don’t misunderstand me. I realise this is the 21st century, I am not a dinosaur. What you and my son do is between you. You are adults. However, as his father I have concerns and I must air them.’
‘Concerns?’ I could feel my shoulders burning slightly, I realised I had forgotten to put sun-cream on. It was approaching the end of September now, but the sun was still fierce in the middle of the day.
‘There is something that you don’t know about my son.’ He looked at me intently. His eyes were almost black, I tried to read them.
‘I think I do.’
‘You do?’
‘When I was last here, when I was about 12, I spent most of my time playing with Sergio because Collette was on holiday with her cousins. One time we were playing in the garden and I heard Rosa talking to a friend. She said he was a boy with a bomb in his head, I didn’t understand at the time, but years later I remembered hearing Mum and Dad talking about it...' I trailed off, embarrassed.
'Yes, there is a clot; a blockage. He could have an aneurism at any time. They found it when he was a baby because they scanned him for another illness. Perhaps now you see why you must leave Sergio alone.’
‘I’m sorry?’ My heart started to beat faster, I willed myself to look into his eyes, to challenge him by not turning away.
‘I have the utmost respect for you Maddie, as I did for your mother, she was a very lovely woman and I was very sad when she died.’
‘What’s my mother got to do with this?’
‘I am just pointing out that life is precious, and however long Sergio has, it could be months, it could be a lifetime, he should be with someone he can marry. Someone he can have children with.’
‘My father had no right to tell you that.’
‘It wasn’t your father, it was Sergio. He wants to marry you.’
I tried to keep my voice level. ‘I’m sorry Fabrizio, but it’s for Sergio to talk to me about this, and for me and Sergio to decide what happens in our relationship. If he knows he has limited time…’
‘He does.’
‘Then no-one but him can decide what’s best for him to do with that time.’
‘I can do no more than appeal to you, as a woman, as someone who is able to put the needs of others before her own. Of course, the decision is yours.’
‘Yes it is.’
He nodded gravely. ‘This is not the only reason I come to talk to you today.’
I put my hands on my hips. ‘No?’
‘I also came here to tell you that your brother has gone missing.’
My heart skipped a beat. ‘Missing?’
‘Yes, your father told me.’
‘Why hasn’t he told me himself?’
‘He didn’t want to worry you.’
‘Dan’s always going missing, it’s a habit of his.’
‘I cannot be sure, but I think this time it might be different.’
‘I think me and Dad are the ones to decide that.’
‘Indeed, indeed you are.’ Amarena sighed and reached over and took my hand. ‘Either way Maddie, your work here is almost done.
‘I’ll call Dad tonight. I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about.’
‘No, no of course not.’
Brighton 1982
I don’t believe it. Mum and dad have said we’re not going to the Amarena’s in Italy for our holiday again! That’s four years in a row now that we’ve had to go to boring, stupid Wales. Well we did Spain once, but that’s two years ago now. Dad’s on my side, but Mum won’t have it. She keeps saying we haven’t got the money, but we’d only have to pay for flights, we don’t have to pay for a hotel or anything like that. When we go to Wales we even stay in a tent. Mum tried to make it better by saying she’d found a campsite with a swimming pool but it’s not the same. Collette writes to me every Summer asking me to come. She says they’ve got a little pony now, just the right size for Dan to ride. Mum says Dan’s happy with the Donkeys at Portmanath Cove, but how can she say that if she won’t even let Dan try the pony too? Our French teacher in school said it’s a real shame we don’t start to learn languages younger in this country, that your brain gets more set, or something as you grow older, so it’s harder to learn. I tried to say that to mum, that it would be good for Dan, the Amarenas could teach him some Italian but she just got cross and said I was being selfish and lots of my friends in school don�
��t ever get to go abroad.
I still remember some of the Italian Collette taught me when I was only six so that just proves that my teacher is right. I remember buon giorno and buona serra and ciao and andiamo, and Tsoro is darling, and Collete taught me some rude words too, like merda, which means the ‘s’ word. Mum’s really nice most of the time, and I always feel safe with her, but sometimes she gets in this way that means she just isn’t going to change her mind, and there’s no point trying to argue with her when she’s like that. Dad’s tried too, but it’s just the same for him.
Mum and dad are in the living room arguing, again. Me and Dan are sitting near the top of the stairs so if one of them comes out of the living room we can get back to our bedroom quickly and they won’t know we’ve been listening. There’s a siren going off in the distance.
‘Perhaps someone’s going to hospital?’
‘It’s the wrong kind of siren Dan, woowoowoo is a fire engine. Ambulances go neenawneenaw.’
‘What do police cars do?’
‘You know, they go, I don’t know, mmwaaw mmwaaa or something.’
‘Why does it always have to be about what you want?’ Dad’s voice is suddenly clearer, like he’s nearer the door. ‘Why does it always have to be so bloody mysterious with you? I always argued with my mates when they said that women were a different species…I was always so bloody right-on…but with you it’s true, it’s really fucking true. I just don’t understand you anymore Jane, you’re a mystery to me, you really are.’
Dan reaches over and takes hold of my hand. I don’t like him hearing this, especially the swear words. I didn’t know what the F word was till I was 8. I can’t stop Dan though. We both know when they’re arguing and wake up. It’s like a psychic ability or something.
‘And why can’t you just back me up? Just for once?’ Mum’s voice is thin and screechy. We don’t like hearing mum argue the most. I don’t know why. She sounds sadder. ‘Can’t you just trust me? Trust in me and not make me give you a list of reasons? Just this once?’
‘So what the hell do I say to Fabrizio and Rosa? What possible excuse am I supposed to come up with? Especially now they’ve had another baby, and you heard what Rosa told us, that he’s got problems with his brain. He could die any minute.’
‘Or he could live till he’s 90, for God sake don’t be over-dramatic.’
‘But what AM I supposed to say to them?!’ ‘I’m sorry, my wife has developed an irrational and sudden phobia about Italy? She always acted like she liked you but actually she thinks you’re a pair of spoilt nouveau riche twats?’ ‘
‘Duncan, don’t you dare!’
‘Well what am I supposed to say?’
‘For God’s sake, use your imagination – the cost – can’t get away from work – anything!’
‘But why Jane? Why on earth can’t we take up their invitation and go? It was such a magical holiday, Maddie still talks about it, and they’ve got a baby boy now. And Dan loves babies.’
‘Duncan…can’t…you…just…fucking…LEAVE IT?!’ Mum screams the last two words and then bursts out into the hall. Dan and me are frozen still. Mum doesn’t see us, she’s got her face in her hands and she’s gasping, and her shoulders are going up and down like she’s been drowning and has just managed to come up for air. Dan starts to cry and mum’s face comes up out of her hands slowly like she’s really really tired. She looks up and spots us and her face goes white. ‘Oh God, I’m sorry sweethearts, I’m so sorry. Mum and Dad were just…’ She comes up the stairs and gives us both a hug. She’s trembling. ‘I know you think I’m being mean, but I’m not, It’s just that...’
I want to tell her that it’s ok, but somehow I can’t. I really really wanted to see Collette and Mum’s stopping me. ‘I think we’d better get back to bed mum.’
‘Yes sweetheart, let’s get you both back in bed.
She takes a hand each and leads us across the landing. Five minutes after she’s tucked me in and gone the door opens.
‘Can I sleep with you Maddie?’
I shift over and lift up the duvet for him so he can get in.
Italy 2006
For two days after Amarena’s visit Sergio didn’t appear. I got on with my usual things, gardening and swimming, but I couldn’t help feeling increasingly anxious. I kept on thinking about the things Fabrizio had said. His arrogance and assumptions infuriated me, but I also couldn’t shake the fear that he was right. I spent over an hour on the phone to my dad, he didn’t want me to leave Italy, or so he said. He didn’t want me worrying about Dan. Last time he’d gone AWOL he was away for two weeks without calling and it turned out he’d been living on a council estate in Manchester, researching his next book.
Eventually, just after lunchtime on the third day, Sergio appeared at the gate. He looked hot and angry. He strode up to me and barely looking at me, pulled me into the house. Once we were in the kitchen, he held my arms painfully tight and started kissing me crazily on my neck and chest. He ripped at my top. A part of me wanted him to be rough. Somehow it assuaged my guilt at not being able to give him what he wanted. I gasped and twisted away from him but I didn’t say no, and I didn’t say stop. He took advantage of my turning and pushed me down on the work counter. The shock of the cold tiles against my face helped me come to my senses. ‘No Sergio!’ I felt him slacken against me. We were both still and silent for a moment, our breathing slowing and finally coinciding. ‘Not like this, not in anger.’
'I’m sorry Maddie, I’m sorry please forgive me’.
I felt winded and my knees began to buckle. ‘Let’s have a drink.’ I felt along the counter and poured us both a glass of wine and he sat beside me at the big oak kitchen table, his face in his hands. I expected him to stay for a while then make his excuses and leave. ‘So that’s it then.’ I found myself thinking. ‘Despite all our good intentions this is how it ends, with embarrassment and shame.’ But instead, Sergio did an extraordinary thing. He knelt down and started to kiss me very gently on my bare feet. He carried on, minutely, up my calf – opening my legs – lips rubbing gently round my knee onto the inside of my thigh. As soon as he approached the top he started on the other thigh – then again, before he reached the top he started on my arm – then the other arm, then down my chest and between my breasts until I was writhing and got up begging him to be inside me. He sat down and I straddled him and we made love; but with such an exquisite, deep, gentle sweetness that by the time I came I was trembling and cried, hugging his face hard against my chest. Afterwards we climbed the stairs to my bedroom woozily, clinging on to each other like shipwrecked sailors who have finally made it to land.
I think I must be dreaming as I have the sensation of falling in the dark. Not quite falling, actually, more like being squeezed through a substance I can’t identify. The darkness presses against me, warm, thick, gently manipulating me downwards. I’m not scared exactly, despite the feeling of being surrounded I can breathe easily, but I am apprehensive. I can sense that I am being transported somewhere and I am struggling with the anticipation. There is an almost imperceptible change in the light; I look down and can now see a small circle of floor approaching. It’s covered in a mosaic of glossy tiles in maroons, deep blues and olive greens. As I sink nearer I start to see the shapes of large exotic leaves and flowers emerging, like a William Morris pattern…
I woke up to find Sergio staring at me, his head resting in the crook of his arm, the muscle of it taut against his cheek. I shook the remnants of the dream from my mind, I still felt a little disquieted by it.
‘I tried to keep away Maddie, but it didn’t work. It drove me crazy to think I wouldn’t see you.’ I propped my head up on my arm and smiled at him. ‘Why wouldn’t you see me?’
He sighed and lay back on the bed.
‘Because I thought it would be less painful to just stop than let it go on and on and feel my heart break a little bit each day.’
‘Is that what your father thinks? That I’m breaking
your heart?’
‘He told me he came to see you.’
‘He wants me to leave you alone.’
‘He had no right to say these things to you. He has never been able to let me live my own life.’
‘If there is an end to come Sergio we should let it come when it is meant to. If we force it we could both make wounds that never heal. Lets take it day by day.’ He seemed cheered by that, though I wonder if it was my use of ‘if’ that was the culprit, rather than my unconvincing sentiment.
‘Sergio.’
‘Yes?’ He looked up at me, his eyes so wide and questioning that I suddenly had a strong memory of him as a little boy.
‘Your father told me something…about your health.’
‘You know? I thought you might do.’
‘I heard my parents say something in an argument about it, not long after you were born, and Rosa, talking, when I visited that time.’
‘I don’t need to talk about it, death could come to any of us at any time in a million different ways. I am not really that different.’
There was more I wanted to say but he leapt out of bed, suddenly full of energy. ‘There is someone very special that I would like you to meet, someone you haven’t seen for over twenty years!’ His compact wiry body was taut and expressive.
‘Who? A friend?’ I didn’t feel up to meeting anyone, and I didn’t want him to build up his expectations either.
‘Oh no, more than just a friend. Nonna Edera Lazatti; La Regina dei Folletti – my grandmother and Queen of the Trolls!’
As we followed the dusty little lane that led to Nonna’s house, Sergio explained to me that her home had once been a small water-mill, and parts of the old wheel were carefully embedded in the pink soil amongst Thyme and Rosemary bushes. I knew I had been here as a little girl, and seeing the house again stirred memories of crouching in a dusty yard with new-born chicks running between my feet. Nonna was obviously a keen gardener. I admired a handsome Jacaranda, waves of heavy blue-purple blossom cascading from its branches and clashing gloriously with the red stems and yellow flowers of a Nerium Oleander. A shout, cracked at the edges but clear as a bell, burst from inside the house and shook me out of my horticultural reverie.
The Soul Room Page 3
