Page 19 of My Lemon Grove Summer
‘Buongiorno,’ I attempt in my best Italian. ‘Parla inglese?’
But instead of smiling and holding out keys, he seems to be shaking his head and waving a finger in admonishment.
‘Ah, Inglese,’ he says, as if we’ve told him we’re from a well-known gang of troublemakers. He wags his finger some more.
‘We’ve just moved here,’ I explain, in case he thinks we’re tourists. ‘These are going to be our houses. The mayor, Giuseppe, has sorted it. We’re from the relocation project.’
‘We wanted to get in and start work on them,’ says Lennie politely, stepping in and taking control of the situation. Just like that time I got caught buying a child’s train ticket when we were on our way to a gig, and he managed to convince the guard not to fine me. And then convinced the bouncers at the venue that we were over eighteen and had had our ID stolen. Lennie seems to have a way with people. ‘I’m Lennie,’ he says, holding out his hand, which hasn’t got even a hint of a shake in it, I notice.
‘Matteo,’ says the man mountain. Having shaken hands with Lennie, holding eye contact for several seconds, he turns to the rest of us and we all introduce ourselves. ‘Matteo,’ he says again. ‘Or if you cannot manage it, Matt,’ he adds without a hint of humour.
‘So, Matteo.’ Lennie takes the lead again, and I’m happy to let him. He seems to be doing okay so far. ‘Are you the builder?’
‘Siiii.’ Matteo draws out the word. ‘I am the builder.’
‘Great, so if you could let us in, or give us the keys, we can start helping you out.’
Matteo smiles as he understands, then his face drops,
‘Non!M’av’a scusari. Sorry.Non possibile.’
‘What? You don’t have the keys on you? We can wait.’ Lennie looks around at us and we all agree.
‘No, not keys. Sorry. You cannot have access to these properties.’
I can’t bite my tongue. ‘Why not?’ I cut in.
‘It’s not safe,’ he says sternly.
‘Well, they need a bit of tarting up, I grant you, but we’re all happy to pitch in and help out,’ I say, looking at the crumbling balcony above and imagining what the view must be like from there.
‘No, sorry. You cannot get in until the work is done. It’s not safe,’ he repeats, and part of me feels like there’s some sort of veiled threat in there. ‘I am looking after the buildings. Guarding them until I am told to start work.’
‘But Giuseppe says that the work is all in hand.’
‘There has been . . . a problem. A delay. Other jobs have come in.’
‘In that case, let us in and we’ll make a start!’ I’m getting frustrated now.
Lennie puts his arm around my shoulders.
‘Look, Matteo – Matt – if there’s anything we can do to, y’know, find a way for you to maybe leave a door open . . . ?’ he says quietly.
Frankly, I’m impressed. Bribery! Why didn’t I think of that? I could kiss Lennie; in fact, I should definitely kiss him soon. If we’re going to be married, we need to get over this hurdle and move on from being the best of friends to being, well, lovers.
Matteo looks at him. ‘Non, sorry,’ he says flatly, and all thoughts of kissing fall away onto the worn, cobbled street. ‘These houses are locked until . . . until work can begin. Their owner would be very unhappy with me if I was to let anything happen here.’
I let out a long, slow sigh. ‘I suppose we’d better find Giuseppe.’
‘Are you sure, Matteo?’ Lennie tries one last time.
Matteo shrugs. ‘Sorry, but I have to do as I’m instructed. My livelihood is at stake here. I rely on him for work.’ He holds out his big shovel hands. ‘But welcome to Città d’Oro,’ he says with a genuine smile.
As we walk dejectedly away, I turn back and look at the row of little houses, then up at the road above and the big red villa there. I could swear I see the figure of a man, in dark glasses and wide-brimmed hat, looking out over the terrace and then turning away as we leave. It makes me even more determined to get into our houses and start living the life we came here for.
When we reach the steps up to the town hall, we see Giuseppe walking towards us.
‘Good morning, everybody.Buongiorno!’ he cries.
