Page 50 of A Place in the Sun
Soon there is another shout from Alessandro. ‘Nonna Teresa!’ he calls.
Nonna Lucia bristles, straightens, and checks her lightweight blue cardigan and her brooch.
Nonna Teresa is just as smartly dressed, with bags that Luca and Pietro are carrying in for her. She and Nonna Lucia offer each other a stiff greeting, and she directs Luca and Pietro to put her bags on the work surface at the furthest end of the kitchen. She sits and takes a glass of water.
The clock ticks slowly round to ten.
‘Mamma,’ Aimee calls, a change from her usual ‘Mum’ but I don’t say anything. ‘It’s not much of a contest with only two people.’
‘We could enter?’ says Luca.
‘I don’t think so,’ I say, trying to hide my disappointment that Nonna Rosa hasn’t come.
Luca is warming to his theme. ‘Dad used to make a sort of lasagne all the time,’ he says. ‘The customers loved hisvincisgrassifrom Le Marche.’
‘Not a lasagne, though,’ the children and I say.
‘Seven layers of pasta, always!’ says Luca, in an impersonation of Marco, and we laugh.
‘We used to make it for birthdays,’ says Aimee.
She’s remembering the good times, not the day Marco didn’t come back from the restaurant and her birthday tea was abandoned.
‘Yes, we did,’ I murmur. I see a lasagne dish being slid across the counter and look up to see Giovanni smiling.
‘It’s about the experience,’ he says. ‘Plenty of ingredients from the delivery this morning from the supermarket. Might not have the meat, though …’
‘It’s okay,’ I say.
‘We could do a veggie version.’ Luca nods and smiles widely.
‘I’m not sure,’ I say, feeling hot. This wasn’t what I was expecting. But none of this has been quite what I was expecting.
The clock slips past ten and a shadow appears in the doorway. It is Nonna Rosa. I feel a flood of relief and I’m not sure if it’s because she’s here, and things are going according to plan, or that I don’t have to make Marco’s version of lasagne. Somehow, I’m not ready to do that, even though I can see how keen the children are.
Nonna Rosa is still standing in the doorway. ‘You weren’t thinking of starting without me, were you?’
Giovanni greets her warmly. ‘We wouldn’t have dreamt of it!’
‘Good. Because we all know who makes the best lasagne in this village.’
The other twononnas sniff. ‘Phfffff.’
Giovanni and I smile. They’re here. All three of them.
‘Perhaps we could help thenonnas,’ I say, to Luca and Pietro. ‘We’ll work in teams.’ My mind is whirring, seeing how this could work for the cookery weekend. They nod enthusiastically.
‘It’ll be like helping Dad make his,’ I tell Luca. But it won’t be the same without him. ‘Let’s make a start, shall we?’ I call. ‘Oven on?’ Then to everyone, I say, ‘Put yourselves into teams with yournonnas.’
Luca goes to Nonna Lucia and I hear her say, ‘I’ll tell you some of the secret but not all of it!’ Pietro stands next to him. Aimee and Caterina’s daughter join Nonna Teresa, and I go to Nonna Rosa, although I’m not sure I’ll be much help. Alessandro, Enrico, Caterina and the mayor wait nervously in the archway into the dining area, watching.
‘Let’s cook!’ says Giovanni, clapping his hands together.
The big kitchen turns into a hive of activity, with the threenonnas overseeing their own cooking, as well as each other’s.
‘No, no, not like that!’ Nonna Rosa calls to Nonna Teresa.
‘Madam, pay attention to your own cooking. I’ve been making this lasagne for years!’
