Page 52 of My Lemon Grove Summer
‘Some more scandalous than others.’ Ralph’s face darkens, and Tabitha has the good grace to look embarrassed.
‘You’re not suggesting she sell that story about us again, are you?’ Sherise is appalled.
‘No, no.’ Lennie waves his hands. ‘I was reading about this Canadian idea. It’s not about selling one business; it’s about selling the town, the destination. Here, people just drive through without stopping, but a town like this was designed for people to walk around. We need to get the tourists on their way to Etna to stop and browse and spend their money.’
We all look at him.
‘Like people who go to a shopping centre. They go because there’s a range of shops. They go for the day. Have lunch out. Buy lots of things they weren’t intending to buy.’
‘But we can’t just open up lots of shops; we haven’t got the money. We need the B and B to generate more income.’
‘And once the town is doing well, people will seek out places to stay, like this one,’ Ralph joins in.
‘But how can we attract people?’ I ask.
Lennie beams.
‘We hold a street party!’
‘A what?’
‘Like we did for the Jubilee?’ asks Sherise.
‘Sort of. We put stalls out on the street, selling produce, fast food; get some music playing, set up a bar. People will come to the street party, to the town. And if they like what they discover, they’ll want to stay here.’
‘That does sound like something to write about,’ beams Tabitha. ‘Brilliant! Breathing new life into the streets of Città d’Oro.’
‘But what will we sell . . . and how are we going to get the townspeople to join in?’ asks Sherise.
‘There is one way . . .’ says Lennie. ‘If we can get Luca’s father on board, the rest of the town will follow. We have to somehow get him to support the plan.’
‘Good luck with that,’ grunts Barry. ‘From what I’ve heard, he only wants to find ways of making a profit for himself.’
Lennie looks at me. ‘Why not ask Luca if there’s a way we can get to his father, win him over? The two of you have become friends.’
‘You know what they say, keep your friends close and your enemies closer,’ laughs Barry.
Is that what Luca is, I wonder, the enemy? I think about our chats in the lemon grove.
‘I think I may know a way,’ I say slowly. ‘I think I know how Luca’s father works.’
Chapter Twenty-five
On the way to town, there are one or two people with their doors open, sitting just inside in the cool. Others are going about their business, cooking inside. Net curtains that used to twitch are now pulled back as I pass. It’s not so secret. I wave, and they raise a tentative hand back. They all know who I am. I’m the one who’s having the wedding, and with it seems to have come some sort of celebrity status.
I’m passing a small walled garden when I hear a rustling from the other side. Suddenly an elderly man pops his head out of the gate and looks nervously up and down the street.
‘Buongiorno,’ he says. His wife, behind him, does the same.
‘Buongiorno,’ I reply, taken aback at this interaction. The first since we’ve been here.
And then he steps out and hands me a beautiful bunch of flowers.
‘Grazie. Grazie mille,’ they both say.
I look at the flowers and then back up at the elderly pair.
‘Grazie,’ the old woman repeats. ‘Per il matrimonio. . .’ and she nods and smiles a watery smile.
