Page 27 of A Place in the Sun
‘They often do,’ she says, handing me the tea-towel with the almond tart inside it. ‘Like husbands dying when you don’t expect it.’
Suddenly I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. I try to focus on the job in hand to stop me doing either. I remember the baking dish. ‘Well, thank you for the lasagne,’ I say handing it to her. ‘It was delicious.’
‘My mother’s recipe.’ She adds, ‘I will make you another.’
And my heart sinks into my very full stomach.
Outside, in darkness, the air is warm and sticky. Alessandro is waiting as I leave the house, under the light from the moon. I don’t need asking twice when he offers to take me back to La Tavola on the scooter instead of walking. I’m so full, I don’t think I’ll ever look at or think about food again.
11
Back at La Tavola I find the children.
‘And then she offered me almond tart!’ I’m telling Giovanni and Caterina as we all sit under the olive tree, with small glasses of limoncello.
‘For the digestion,’ Giovanni tells me.
‘More like indigestion,’ I say.
There is a candle on the table and, despite the warm night, the mosquitoes seem still to be leaving me alone. Aimee has a box of decorated biscuits and Luca and Pietro are sharing the almond tart.
‘So, you met our threenonnas?’ says Giovanni.
‘I did! You could have told me!’
‘Told you what?’
‘That I’d have to eat with each of them.’
‘I said you had to sit with them.’
‘But I couldn’t turn down their offer of food. It would have been rude.’
He laughs. ‘You’re beginning to sound like a local already – you’ll fit right in!’
‘How come they eat on their own every night?’
‘Like many older people here, their families have moved away so they’re on their own.’
‘But they’re sisters? Why don’t they eat together?’
‘Sisters and sister-in-law. And it’s a long story. But the three women fell out many years ago and now you’ll never get them in the same room together.’
‘How sad.’
‘It is.’
‘What did they fall out over?’
‘That’s not my story to tell. But I’m sure you’ll find out, one way or another.’
‘No, no … I won’t be here long enough.’ I hold up a hand and laugh. ‘I’m not getting involved. It has nothing to do with me. I just have to do up the house and be back in the UK in time for school starting in September.’
‘So you don’t want any leftover pasta, then?’ Giovanni nods to the orange light from the kitchen.
‘No, thank you.’ I sip the limoncello, praying it will help my digestion. It certainly loosens my tongue after the glasses of wine I’ve had. ‘And they all wanted to hear why their lasagne was the best.’
Giovanni and Caterina laugh.
