Page 49 of My Lemon Grove Summer
The lemons make another bid for freedom as I try and scoop them into a large wooden bowl I’ve found in a cupboard. Valerie doesn’t even attempt to retrieve them. She’s sitting at the table, fanning herself with a piece of paper Lennie has been making notes on.
‘What are you going to do with all these?’ he laughs. ‘And where did you get them from anyway?’
‘Luca gave them to me,’ I say, picking a couple up off the floor.
‘Luca? When did you see Luca?’
‘This afternoon, when I went to talk to him about my wedding dress!’
‘Your wedding dress?’
‘Uh huh. He’s a tailor. He trained in Milan. He’s going to design and make my dress for me.’
‘Oh that’s wonderful news! A wedding dress made just for you. Much better than all that old stuff you were looking at!’ Valerie joins in.
‘I reckon he fancies you, that Luca,’ Lennie says playfully.
‘No!’ I reply quickly. Almost too quickly, I think. ‘And even if he did,’ I say, looking up at Lennie and knowing that I absolutely mean this, ‘it’s you that I’m marrying. It’s the pact. No more chasing castles in the sky. I want a life with you. I want everything we have together: loyalty, friendship, laughter and a new life mapped out together.’
This time, it feels quite natural to wrap my arm around his waist and hug him, putting my head to his chest. Little steps, I think. Like the slow-cooked meal.
‘And a house full of misfits that now has two scruffy chickens who seem very much at home!’ He points to Barry and Sherise chasing the birds around the courtyard, trying to contain them whilst Billy is sorting through wood from the open-sided barn.
‘Perfect!’ I smile and hug him harder, and he kisses the top of my head. I’m beginning to wonder if Lennie and I will ever actually sleep together. I mean, we’re sharing a bed, and that’s really nice. Having someone to talk to at the end of the day and drink coffee with in the morning. But so far, neither of us has felt the urge to pounce on the other. We’re just really comfortable. Like an old married couple. How long are we going to wait, or actually, do we have to do it at all? Could this be it? Can you have a perfectly loving relationship without sex? Because I do love Lennie and I love being with him, and maybe, maybe this is enough.
I look around and catch sight of the lemons, and I suddenly get a flash of Luca cutting them from the tree with his penknife and passing them to me, our hands just touching, sending electric shocks around my body. He may fancy me, and I may, I admit, even fancy him a bit. But I’m marrying Lennie, I tell myself firmly. I am marrying Lennie and I won’t be distracted from that.
‘Whatareyou going to do with them?’ Lennie looks at the lemons spread out across the table.
I pick one of them up and smell it.
‘What about lemonade?’ he suggests.
‘Oh, that would be cooling,’ says Valerie, fanning away.
‘No, not lemonade.’ I walk over to the other box. Lennie frowns. I open the lid and pull out the handbag with the ribbon and the hand-written recipe inside.
‘Please tell me you’re not going to make lemon curd.’
‘Oh, you used to love lemon curd when you were a boy.’
‘I didn’t, Mum, you just thought I did.’
And they both laugh, Valerie’s face lighting up at the memory of her little boy.
I reach into the bag and pull out the old postcard. ‘No, not lemon curd. I’m going to make this. It’s a recipe for limoncello. Luca’s grandmother’s limoncello, to be precise. I’m going to give some to Giuseppe to say thank you for the clothes and for letting us stay on here.’
‘Perfect!’ says Lennie, hugging me again. ‘That sounds like a perfect thank you.’
‘And you can tell me what you’ve been thinking about,’ I say, pointing to a chair and pouring out two glasses of red wine. ‘Valerie?’ I ask, even though I know she’s not a big drinker.
‘No, you two take time to chat. Think I’ll go for a lie-down before dinner,’ she says. ‘Whatisfor dinner?’
‘Pasta!’ Lennie and I say together, and laugh. We’re experts on pasta now, and ways to make affordable and tasty sauces.
Once Valerie has gone, I sit down next to Lennie and we smile at each other.
‘So tell me,’ I say, ‘what have you been planning?’
