Page 72 of Twisted Oath

‘Later,’ he nodded. ‘First, we need to go and see Nonno… He’s been waiting patiently to see you.’

‘Okay.’ The feeling was mutual. I had initially started my married life afraid of the patriarch of the De Luca family, wary of how he’d see me; a Giordano who had been forced onto his family by means of an arrangement. He was a formidable driving force that wasn’t to be reckoned with. But within a few months, the older man who had treated me with the upmost respect had become one of my favourite members of Salvatore’s family. One day after he’d overheard one of my regular disagreements with Salvatore’s stepmother, he’d sent her away and taken me into his office, which was somewhere only the men normally went. He’d shown me a picture he kept in a silver frame inside the middle drawer of the huge desk he sat behind, of a petite, but extremely pretty, dark-haired girl. Her name was Giovanna. Salvatore’s only sister had been named after her. He had been seventeen and her fifteen when they’d married. She too had been part of a bargain to join two of the Calabrese families. Against the odds, they had fallen in love and been very much together until her death sixteen years previously.

I’d understood, as he looked at her smiling face and by the way he still caressed the worn frame with his thumb as he explained about his wife, and then looked back at me, that I wasn’t the only one who felt a connection between her dying the same year I was born.

From then on, I saw him in a different light. Salvatore was more like his grandfather than any other members of his family.

Salvatore pulled the bike to a standstill in front of what had to be one of the largest homes in Italy. For centuries, the De Lucas had owned the land, and over the years their house had been sympathetically extended, until it was the great sprawling villa in front of us.

‘Time to get off.’ Salvatore patted my thigh as he kicked the stand to the gravel.

Years before, it had been a well-practised routine to dismount from his bike, but given the length of time that had slipped away since I’d last done it, I had to think hard about what I was doing. Holding on to his shoulders, I stood on the bars, before inching my left foot to the floor and swinging my right up high and over the bike.

‘Serafina.’ Giovanna came running at me the minute my feet touched the ground and I positioned myself to accept the hug I knew was coming my way. As her body thudded into mine, I wrapped my arms around her tightly and reciprocated her excitement.

‘It’s good to see you, Gi.’ I wrestled myself free and kissed both of her cheeks.

‘I’m excited you’re back… he’s been hell to live with.’ She gesticulated towards Salvatore and gave him a broad smile.

‘Enough,’ Salvatore berated her, but gave her one of his rare smiles at the same time. ‘Are you the whole of the welcoming committee?’

‘I am.’ She looked slightly embarrassed as she answered her brother. ‘I mean, Gabriel would have been here, but he had a job to do… Romeo was with Nonno, but I saw him leave a short while ago too, and… well, you know the others.’

She was right, we did. But I wasn’t disappointed. I couldn’t have cared less if I saw Salvatore’s father or stepmother ever again. In fact, they were the blot on an otherwise beautiful landscape.

‘Is Nonno in his office?’ Salvatore asked as he moved to take my hand.

‘Yes, and he’s expecting you,’ Gi replied.

‘Come.’ Salvatore gripped my hand tightly and together we made our way around Gi.

‘Gi, come and see me soon,’ I called out to her as we made our way inside.

‘I have a piece I’m rehearsing, but as soon as I feel I know it well enough, I will,’ she smiled. Giovanna referred to the love of her life, her music. I hadn’t a musical bone in my body, but one of the things I had looked forward to the most when I’d lived with Salvatore previously on the De Luca land, was the sound of her playing the grand piano her grandfather had bought her. I had heard on the grapevine that she was now attending Bologna on occasion, to receive tuition from a renowned professor of music.

With Salvatore’s hand clasping my own, we made our way through the extensive villa. Things didn’t appear to have changed. Most of the corridors we walked through were the same or similar shade of whites and off-whites they had been when I’d last walked through them. I knew they had been decorated by Valentina, Salvatore’s stepmother, as she was the woman of the house. I’d always felt they were boring and without personality just, it had to be said, like her.

My heart began to beat faster as, trying to keep up with Salvatore’s long strides, my feet began to move over the ceramic tiles beneath us at a quicker rate. But eager to be through her domain, I made no complaints.

Finally, we turned the corner to where Salvatore Snr’s rooms started and instantly, I felt more relaxed. The aroma of his favourite Havana enveloped me and brought a smile to my face. Mahogany half panels now decorated the corridor we were walking down and, in the distance, just outside his large office, I could see his bodyguard Ricco.

As we grew nearer, I could see that Ricco, although still intimidating, had aged. His hair had greyed over the past few years, and the left-hand side of his face showed a well-sewn but still obvious scar, which ran from the very corner of his eye in a straight line to his jaw. I heard my slight gasp, and felt Salvatore react as he gripped my hand a little tighter. I knew I needed to remember that while I’d been cossetted back in London, they’d been embroiled in a war.

I offered Ricco a small smile as we grew nearer.

With a curt nod of his head, he welcomed me back. Then he grabbed Salvatore’s free hand and then his elbow. Instantly, Salvatore dropped my hand to reciprocate, and they welcomed each other like brothers.

‘The Don is expecting you both. It’s good to see you again, Mrs De Luca.’

‘And you, Ricco.’

The metallic noise of bolts withdrawing sounded. The sealed door unlocked and opened automatically in front of us. Salvatore positioned his hand into the small of my back to usher me over the threshold in front of him.

The office was overly warm and smoky, and I glanced to the wall of closed bi-folding doors, which was unusual on such a beautiful July day.

‘Serafina, welcome home.’ All the thoughts in my head dissipated and I turned my attention to the man sitting behind his desk at the far end of the room.

‘Nonno.’ I offered the greeting I knew he would appreciate the most, before leaving Salvatore’s side to greet the older man with a kiss on both cheeks. His hands gently held on to both of my cheeks while he stared pointedly into my eyes, and it was in that minute that I knew all was not as it should be.

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