Page 79 of My Lemon Grove Summer
We all look at each other.
‘I’m so sorry. I’ve ruined everything.’ Valerie dissolves into her hanky again.
‘But how did you do it? Move all the lemons?’
‘I took the minibus back, early this morning. I saw the little girl, Sophia. She was on her own. I waved.’
‘She must have followed you. She must have wanted a ride in the bus again.’
Valerie lets out a loud sob. ‘I’m so sorry. It was such a stupid thing to do, I realise that now.’
‘We’ve all made mistakes, Val love. We wouldn’t be here if we hadn’t,’ says Barry.
I look at him, and a cold feeling of realisation washes over me. He’s right, I think. We’ve all made mistakes, but I don’t want to make any more. I think about the kiss, me and Luca, and the way it made me feel like I’d finally found everything I’d been looking for. But now I have to put it into a box and shut the lid, because I can never make that mistake again.
‘I’ll go if you want me to,’ Valerie says.
I don’t reply. I can’t. What do I say? ‘Go if you want?’ I’m not making that decision. If she wants to leave, it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve ended up on my own.
Just then, Giuseppe arrives.
‘What is going on? What’s happening?’ he asks.
Everyone starts to explain, like a noisy Sicilian family all wanting to pass on the news. Look how far we’ve come, I think, and I can’t help but let a little smile pull at the corner of my mouth.
‘But the wedding?’ Giuseppe looks aghast.
‘There will still be a wedding.’ Lennie smiles and ruffles my freshly washed hair. But there are no merry-go-rounds in my tummy. There’s no passion. I’m settling for hugs and cups of coffee by my bed, and knowing he will always be there for me and will never let me down. There will still be a wedding. But a voice in my head whispers that it is a wedding for all the wrong reasons. ‘But first, we have a batch of limoncello to make . . .’ and he slaps his hands together.
‘But the fruit is useless!’
I sit down, exhausted. ‘Tabitha’s right. The verdello are useless.’
Luca looks at me. ‘Theseverdello are, yes . . .’ A thought seems to be slowly evolving in his mind. ‘But because all the lemon groves round here have been starved of water, there are many verdello.’
‘So . . .’ I realise what he’s saying. ‘We need more fruit. Your father has the fruit.’
‘Yes.’ He nods. ‘I’ll go and speak to him.’
‘No!’ I say. ‘I’ll go. He owes me one, remember?’ And I grab the handbag that has been my constant companion since I found it, still with the green ribbon and the recipe inside, and somehow now they feel like my lucky charms.
‘Here, take this,’ Luca picks up a bottle of the verdello limoncello.
‘But that’s for the wedding.’
‘If you can pull this off, you’ll have more than enough for the wedding.’ He smiles. ‘Let it do its magic.’
‘And for God’s sake don’t tip it over his head or anything daft like that,’ Lennie says with a mixture of humour and concern. ‘Matteo says—’
Luca cuts him off. ‘You and Matteo, you’re like an old married couple.’ He throws his head back and laughs, and then, missing only a fraction of a beat, Lennie joins in. I look at the two of them, the good friends they have become, like two brothers teasing each other.
Then Lennie turns back to me.
‘Just be careful, Zelda, that’s all I’m saying. We all know what you’re like.’ He looks concerned, and I know it’s because he cares.
‘I think Zelda will do just fine. I think my papà may have met his match!’ Luca laughs, and I can’t help but smile as I take the bottle from him. As I do, our fingers touch and it’s like I’ve been charged with an electric shock. Oh God, I think, I am in love with two people. I love them both, but differently. My head feels like it’s suddenly full of cotton wool. Like all my thought processes have turned to mush. Like I’m right back where I was when I was a kid at school, confused, unable to sort out my feelings and thoughts. I have to choose! But how?
I grab the bottle and practically run out of the house and up the lane, dodging around the big muddy puddles filling the potholes, trying to clear and order the thoughts in my mind. There is a banging in my head, getting louder. But it’s not in my head, I realise. It’s in the town. And as I pass, I see a sight for sore eyes – building work, on the houses. Our houses! And Matteo raises a hand in greeting.
