Page 77 of My Lemon Grove Summer
‘And I said, don’t do it again,’ I say lightly, trying to make a joke of it. ‘I might not be around to rescue you next time.’ And the words catch in my throat as I realise that I’m saying goodbye.
‘But Zelda . . .’ I hear her take a big breath. ‘I know who stole the verdello!’
Chapter Forty
I march home, furious thoughts propelling me there. I’m so enraged, even Luca’s offer of a lift falls on deaf ears. I can’t hear anything apart from Sophia’s words.
I know who stole the verdello.
I keep walking, with Luca riding behind me at a snail’s pace on the moped, clearly worried. But I need to walk. I need to clear my head. Because now that I know, I have to work out what to do about it.
Chapter Forty-one
‘You’re back!’
‘We were so worried!’
Everyone is there in the kitchen, looking freshly showered and dry. I am still in my sodden clothes.
‘Is she okay?’
All their questions and concerns blur into one.
‘She’s fine. A bit shaken and bruised, but otherwise all right,’ I manage to say through blue lips and chattering teeth.
‘Thank God!’ says Sherise.
‘Well, that was quite an adventure,’ says Barry.
‘I’ve never seen so many people in the town,’ joins in Tabitha.
‘And Giuseppe and Romano out searching together. Quite a day,’ adds Lennie.
They’re all pottering around the kitchen preparing supper together, as if they’ve been doing it all their lives. And I realise how long I’ve been out.
‘So the verdello have gone?’ Sherise asks me.
‘Yes,’ I reply, teeth really chattering this time.
‘So that’s it. We’re going home. We can’t find any other work.’ Ralph stops peeling onions and looks at me with his pinny round his waist, and for a moment I think how strange it is that this seems perfectly normal here.
‘Someone wanted to get us out really badly,’ Barry says, putting water on to boil.
‘Yes . . .’ I repeat, and the word hangs in the air before I finally manage to say the words. ‘Didn’t you, Valerie?’
And as everyone turns to look at Valerie, my blood runs cold. The expression on her face confirms everything I’ve been told. The rug has been well and truly pulled from under my feet.
Chapter Forty-two
‘How could you?’ I say, frozen to the spot, hot, angry tears welling in my eyes.
‘It’s not what you think. Or maybe it is.’ She suddenly bursts into tears.
‘Just tell me where the verdello are, Valerie!’ I try really hard not to raise my voice.
She stands slowly, the chair scraping across the floor, and leads us outside, around the muddy puddles and out towards the lemon grove . . . and the chicken hut. There, all around, are the verdello, cut in half.
‘Mum!’ Lennie says, looking around, astounded and bewildered.
