Page 81 of My Lemon Grove Summer
I nod. ‘Luca told me how.’
He stands and goes to a dark-wood dresser and takes out two glasses, then comes back to where I am sitting. My heart, if possible, is now banging even louder, and I feel like I’m in the amphitheatre waiting to be thrown to the lions.
He picks the bottle up and studies the colour again.
‘By rights I should have charged you for the lemons, the verdello . . . a local tax for helping yourself to what wasn’t yours to take in the first place.’ He looks at me, and I hold his stare.
‘By rights I should point out that you’ve been holding people to ransom around here for most of their lives,’ I say, unable to help myself, as if the floodgates have opened once more.
He doesn’t reply, and instead focuses on pouring two glasses. He pushes one towards me.
‘Your family,’ I find myself continuing, thinking of Luca and wishing I could stop, ‘and the locals. This town is dying on its feet, and not many years from now, the last person will have to turn off the lights and shut the door behind them when they leave.’
He concentrates on the green liquid in his glass. I hold my breath, waiting for him to ask me to leave. Damn it! Blown it again! Why can’t I just keep my mouth shut?
I gather up my bag and stand. But as I turn back to him, he is raising the glass to his lips. He tips it back, the black hat that he seems to always wear nearly falling off his head. I can see him shutting his eyes behind his sunglasses.
He lowers the glass, but says nothing, just rolls his lips in on each other again and again. Then, to my surprise, he takes off his hat and pulls off his sunglasses, and I see his face properly for the first time. There is a look of Luca about him, no doubt.
He covers his eyes with a hand, then pushes a thumb into one and rubs.
‘Are you okay?’ I ask, instinctively reaching out to him then quickly remembering the fake heart attack and snapping my hand back. I feel, well, bemused. What is going on? I’m standing here waiting to be told to leave. I’m ready. I’m used to being told to go.
Slowly he lifts his head and opens his eyes.
If he’s going to tell me that I know nothing of his life or his business, he’s right. But I am going to tell him what I think of what he’s done to Luca and the town.
I take a deep breath, and then stop when I realise that tears are trailing down his cheeks. He’s actually crying.
Chapter Forty-five
‘This,’ he says, lifting the glass, ‘this is how my home town used to taste. Where I grew up, where I brought up my family, where all my hopes and dreams were. This is it. This is Nonna’s recipe, isn’t it?’
I nod. ‘It is,’ I say, ‘and your home town could be like this again. I have an order for this limoncello. But the verdello we picked yesterday are ruined. I need more, and since you own or rent all the land around here, only you have the lemons I need.’
He stands and walks over to the view, as if seeing it again for the first time in a long time. ‘That is how this place should taste. That is the place where I belong, in that bottle.’ He holds up the glass, and the light shines through the vibrant green liquid.
He looks at me.
‘Take the lemons, as many as you need. Get Matteo to help you cut the fences around the lemon groves. Start with the one here. Tell Giuseppe to invite the villagers. You will get the picking done quicker that way. None of them moves very quickly these days, but there may be help in numbers.’
It takes me a moment to realise what he’s saying. He’s saying yes! And I beam. ‘Thank you, Romano!’ I exclaim. ‘Grazie mille!’ and impulsively, grinning like mad, realising our plan is back on track, I grab his wet cheeks in my hands and plant a kiss on his cheek, and I’m not sure who’s more surprised, him or me, as I run out of the house, down the drive, through the gates and all the way home to tell the others the good news.
‘I’ll let everyone know,’ says Barry, climbing on to his pushbike, his constant companion now. ‘I’ll cycle into town and tell anyone I see to come and help.’
‘We’ll start in the morning,’ I tell them.
‘I’ll be there,’ says Ralph.
‘And me,’ says Tabitha.
‘Okay, tell everyone we’ll meet at the lemon grove on the top of the hill,’ I say.
‘What? Il Nonno’s?’ asks Lennie.
‘Yep,’ I smile.
‘Knew you’d do it, Zeld!’ he says, pulling me to him and kissing the top of my head. He looks at his phone. ‘Matteo is coming to take down the fences. He’s just finishing up at the houses. Looks like there could be plenty of work for me now!’
