Page 38 of A Place in the Sun
Suddenly there’s a knock and I’m distracted. I sprint past the piles of plaster to the door.
‘Ciao!’ It’s Giovanni.
‘Giovanni, we’ve got goats in the garden!’
‘Ah.’ He smiles. ‘Buono!Good! Giuseppe dropped them off,’ he says, as a goat takes a couple of steps into the kitchen. ‘They’re supposed to be outside.’
‘Out, out!’ say the children.
‘Giuseppe dropped them off?’
‘Well, you said the garden needed clearing. His goats are the best. He moves them around the village to keep the grass down. I told him you needed the gardenclearing and he said he’d drop them off. Couple of days should do it.’
‘A couple of days?’
‘Should be nice and clear by then.’
‘We’ve got goats here for two whole days?’ Aimee jumps up and down.
‘Any longer and he’ll be expecting a fee!’ He laughs.
‘Oh, God, is it going to cost?’
Giovanni shakes his head. ‘I’m joking. Giuseppe is happy that his goats are fed well and so is he at La Tavola.’
It’s a mutual agreement, helping each other.
‘Like you helping at La Tavola, Mum,’ says Luca. And he’s back to being the sensible young adult he’s been for the last two years.
‘You two keep an eye on the goats,’ I say, and when Luca smiles I glimpse the child he is again.
‘Are you sure you don’t need me to help here?’ he asks.
‘We’ll be fine. Go and enjoy the goats. Just don’t …’
‘Don’t what?’
‘I don’t know. What shouldn’t you do with goats?’
‘Don’t let them go anywhere they shouldn’t!’ says Giovanni.
‘Good plan,’ I say, pleased that the children seem entertained without Wi-Fi.
‘I said I’d meet Pietro later … if that’s okay. Can he come and see the goats?’ Luca asks.
I catch myself feeling surprised. It seems so longsince he’s just enjoyed being a boy. I could cry for all the time he’s missed and feel guilty that I’ve only realized this recently.
‘Of course!’ I sniff. I give him a little hug and he lets me.
‘It’ll be okay, Mum.’ He gives me a little squeeze.
‘Of course it will,’ I say. ‘It’ll be—’
Luca cuts in. ‘Don’t say fine!’
‘More than fine.’ I chuckle and the children disappear outside to the goats, the cat, sitting on the table, watching them, and Giovanni’s little white dog, Bello, leaping around the garden joyously, clearly thinking he’s a goat, much to the goats’ confusion. But they all seem happy enough.
I turn back to Giovanni, who is looking around the big room, taking in the mess. I expect a comment about it being a lot to take on, but he just says, ‘Better get started. First, let’s clear this plaster. There’s a tractor and trailer on the way. We’ll get it piled up by the door, ready to load into the trailer.’
