Page 6 of Last Letter Home
‘Any sound there, Mike?’ Aruna said urgently.
‘Can’t get any.’
The plane dropped silently behind a hill and everyone groaned.
‘Ah,’ Mike said as the image changed. A panorama shot of a large, untidy garden, a couple of parked trucks.
‘Army, or something?’ said Luke.
‘There are no markings, but could they be British?’ Briony moved to a better vantage point, trying to see the details more sharply. Two men in uniform were unloading boxes from one of the vehicles, then there was a close-up shot of the soldiers’ faces, grinning for the camera. One made a V for Victory sign and his lips moved. ‘Definitely British,’ Briony muttered, seeing a badge on a sleeve.
There was a whitish building of some sort in the background. Briony hoped the shot would pan out so she could see what it was, but instead it hovered over the boxes, then swooped round to show a small group of men sitting on crates playing cards and smoking. One made a monkey face, another waved, but a third hid his face with his arm. The camera zoomed in on the cards in his hand and then there must have been a scuffle after that because the picture spun chaotically towards the sky, and then there was a sudden glimpse of the white building again as it was righted. Window shutters, a pantiled roof.
‘A villa,’ Luke said quietly. ‘British soldiers at a villa here during the war.’
‘Seems like it,’ Briony agreed. The screen went dark then brightened again. This time the picture appeared to be a peaceful scene across a valley with all its terraces and groves of trees. ‘It’s our valley!’ Then she breathed in sharply. ‘Oh no.’
‘The bridge!’ They all spoke at once as they pointed out landmarks and noticed with dismay the wartime damage. A bomb crater; terraces ravaged by vehicle tracks; the shell of a burned-out house, charred rafters swaying in the wind; finally a shot of an overturned tank. A scrap of a boy with a rapturous smile stood balanced on the black cross on its side, one raised arm punching the air.
And then, ‘Those gates,’ Briony cried out, when the picture changed again. ‘Luke, it’s the place I came across the other evening.’
It made sense suddenly. ‘I was asking Mariella about the villa I saw up the hill,’ she explained. ‘Where I walked before Luke found me. That must be why she’s given us the film. But,’ she wondered, ‘where did she get it from?’
‘Sshh, there’s more,’ Luke said.
They found themselves staring at two men in khakis weeding a patch of earth studded with tender little plants.
‘Potatoes!’ he pronounced knowledgeably.
‘Tatties, eh? Ooh ah!’ Mike’s teasing voice.
The camera zoomed in on one of the hoes working briskly between the plants and a hand reaching down to yank out a weed, then moved upwards. The man’s open jacket revealed a vest stretched over a tanned, muscled chest. His head was lowered as he concentrated on his work, and his arms glistened with sweat. As though noticing the camera for the first time, he looked up and straight at the lens, pushed his cap back and wiped his forehead with his arm. Short, springy dark hair grew above a high forehead and laughing eyes in a narrow, tanned face.
Surprise raced through Briony’s whole body.
She knew that face, those eyes.
There came a loud ripping sound, the picture flew away in a rag of ribbon and the screen glared yellow once more.
‘That’s it, folks,’ Mike said, switching on the lights. ‘Can’t see what the fuss is all about, personally.’
There were general murmurs of bewilderment. Why had Mariella given Briony this film? ‘It was of round here,’ Aruna said, ‘so perhaps she thought we’d be interested. Hey, Briony, are you OK?’
Briony blinked and realized that everyone was staring at her. ‘Sorry,’ she said, then after a moment, ‘I wonder if Mariella meant it for all of us, or maybe . . . well, I don’t know. Listen, guys . . . Mike, sorry to be a pain, but I need to see it again.’
There were groans, but she didn’t care. She had to. She knew without doubt that the film had been for her and her alone.
The soldier’s face was as familiar to her as her own.
‘He was exactly like my brother. I didn’t mean it was Will, of course,’ Briony told Luke and Aruna, ‘it would have been my grandfather. Mum always said Will took after him.’
It was later in the evening and she had stepped out to join the others in the gloom of the vine-canopied patio, hesitant until they welcomed her. Astringent smoke from a candle on the low table filled the warm air, its flickering flame throwing restless shadows up the leafy wall and reflecting off beakers of the ruby wine they’d bought at the vineyard. With Mike’s help she had watched the film again, making him slow it right down when they reached the shots of the man who looked like her brother.
‘I did see what you mean about him being vaguely like Will, though the clip was so grainy. Do you know for definite your grandfather was here during the war?’ Aruna asked.
‘According to Dad he was in this part of Italy.’
Aruna looked sceptical. ‘It would be an amazing coincidence if it was him, Briony. I mean, those men all looked alike, especially in khaki with those savage haircuts.’
