Page 33 of My Lemon Grove Summer
‘I can give you something if you like.’ He stands up. ‘Name it.’
‘I can’t take food from you! That would be wrong.’
‘Call it payback, to make up a little for my family’s behaviour.’
‘I couldn’t.’
‘You could. Tell me, what can I give you?’
‘Well . . . I was trying to buy pasta from your cousin. If you have any that I could use, that would actually be great.’
‘Pasta it is!’
‘Really?’
‘Of course. I have the night off. No bookings. I will bring it over to you.’
‘So they don’t see you mixing with the enemy?’ I raise an eyebrow, teasing and testing him.
‘Yes,’ he says, cocking his head, stating the facts.
I smile. Somehow I seem to smile a lot around Luca.
‘I’ll be over later,’ he says. ‘It will be my gift. And I’m sorry about my father.’
I hope he’s true to his word, unlike his father. I hope I can trust him. At the thought, my insides melt anyway, just like the ice cream at the bottom of my bowl.
Chapter Seventeen
By late afternoon, the farmhouse is a hive of activity, just like the bees returning to the scarlet poppies, yellow wild fennel and Etna broom in the overgrown lemon grove surrounding us.
All around the yard the black dust has been swept into piles, like mini Etnas.
The outside rooms are looking great, beds made up with military precision, thanks to Ralph’s exacting standards. They’ve been scrubbed, cleaned and swept to within an inch of their lives. All the boxes that were stored there have been moved up to my room, along with Lennie’s belongings. The heat is starting to go out of the day, as I’ve noticed happens here once the sun goes down.
Everyone is in good spirits – hot, and a bit sweaty, but feeling so much better for doing something and pulling together.
‘Don’t know about anyone else, but I’m nearly ready for a cold beer,’ says Barry, as he finishes tidying up in the barn and gives his bike a final dusting-down, with what I’d say is a look of affection.
I’m gathering up cleaning equipment to put back in the farmhouse, and Sherise is emptying a bucket of grey water over the fence surrounding the orchard.
‘There we go. Looks like they could do with a drink, poor things,’ she says looking at the trees. ‘I wonder what they are?’ She points to some small light green fruit on the branches.
I shrug. ‘Maybe limes?’
I’m leaning on a broom, wearing a set of overalls I found on top of one of the boxes that were moved to my room. I’m wondering what else might be in there. I can’t wait to get stuck in and see if there might be some clothes I could use to start my vintage clothing business . . . Then I remember we’re not actually staying and my spirits plummet again. But I’m going to go through the boxes anyway. If there are some gems in there, I’ll ask Giuseppe if I can buy them from him and use them wherever I end up.
Lennie walks over. He’s so tall, but then I’m also pretty short. He gives me a big hug, pulling me close. As I’m standing there, head nestled against his chest, eyes shut, drawing strength from him and realising my life is so much better now that he’s in it and we’re making a go of it, I hear a shout.
‘Who’s that?’ I hear him say, and my eyes ping open.
A little green and white moped is coming down the dusty drive. The driver wears an open-faced helmet and is balancing a bulging bag between his tanned bare ankles on the running board.
‘It’s Luca!’ I stand up straight and smile, feeling my stomach do its usual flipping-over thing, so much so that I put my hand to it.
‘What’s he doing here?’ asks Lennie. ‘Isn’t it his family trying to stop us from staying on?’
‘No! Well, technically yes. But Luca’s helping us out. I told you I couldn’t get food from the local shop. Well . . .’ I don’t know why I blush at the thought of my ice cream date with Luca. It wasn’t a date. Just ice cream. ‘I met Luca and he said he’d bring some.’ Still don’t know why I didn’t mention the ice cream.
