“No, they’re Edgar’s actually, but I’ve known them all their lives, so we don’t bother with any of that step nonsense.”
“Right, yeah.”
She stands up and opens her lace parasol. “They were supposed to be coming this weekend but their trip’s been postponed. I don’t suppose any of you are fans of Harry Styles?”
“Yes!” blurts out Mabel. “I am!”
I smile. “ShelovesHarry Styles.”
“Well, I was going to surprise my granddaughters with ticketsto his concert in Lucca,” says Angelika. “I’m too old to go myself but I was going to drive them there and pick them up afterwards. I don’t want any money but the tickets are yours if you want them.”
Mabel’s face lights up. “Oh my god, I’d love to go. Thank you!”
“Just a minute, who will you go with?” I say. “You should probably ask your dad before you say yes.”
Mabel screws up her face. “As if. Dad doesn’t get Harry Styles. He says he’s not a serious musician.” There’s a pause. “Adam, will you come?”
To my surprise, I find myself saying, “I’d love to.”
“Wunderbar!”warbles Angelika. She turns to walk back to the house and sneaks me a wink. “Now, go on, darling, take off that hat and T-shirt and get in the pool!”
Chapter 26
After yesterday’s visit to Angelika, I came back to the house thinking about Mum. I was desperate to speak to Auntie Julie and messaged to ask if she was free, but she and Jason are on holiday in Spain till Saturday. I’ve no idea how she’ll respond to Angelika’s suggestion that Mum and Wilf had been in contact—or if she’s been hiding something from me—but don’t want to push it while she’s away. We’ve arranged to speak on Saturday.
In the meantime, I’ve decided to focus on Wilf and his story. After last night’s barbecue, I updated Theo on what Angelika had told me. Again, he was moved and riveted and asked a lot of new questions I’m going to put to Angelika the next time I see her. But I didn’t tell Theo what Angelika said about Mum—not until I’ve ascertained if it’s true. To take my mind off her, I organized a game of cards, but it descended into squabbles when Archie got overexcited and couldn’t stop looking at Callum and Mabel’s cards—only for them to accuse him of cheating. In the end, we had to abandon the game. I went to bed to start readingThe Heart in Exile, willing Mum out of my head.
Despite my efforts, when I woke up this morning, she was the first thing I thought about. I quickly forced myself to switch my focus back onto Wilf—and Arnaldo. I’ve decided to frame allforty strips of passport photos, splitting them into two lots so they’re not too big. As I pedal away on the exercise bike—listening toLa bohème—I consider where to hang them. The best option is probably on the gable wall in the big lounge, the most communal room apart from the kitchen. When I’ve finished my workout, I run the idea past Theo and he approves.
After breakfast—and all five of us have thrown the oranges over the hill—I drive into Pietrasanta to drop the photos off at a place I found online. I’m told my order will be ready at the end of the day.
By the time I get back to the house, once again I’m thinking about Mum. Thankfully, Luisa is on her way down from the castle. She’s wearing rubber gloves and holding a square of fabric, on which sits what looks like a piece of shattered pottery.
“We’ve just made our first discovery!” she announces, her eyes wide.
“Fab!” I jog over to her. “What is it?”
She gently takes hold of it and lifts it up. “It’s a fragment of what was probably a ceramic basin. Look at the glazing.” She points out some black-and-blue stripes. “I’m pretty sure the black is manganese and the blue is cobalt. Which means it’s probably from North Africa.”
My eyebrows shoot up to my hairline. “North Africa?”
She wraps up the pottery in the cloth. “I can’t be sure. I need to take it to the museum so Vito can have a look. He’s the expert.”
“Well, whatever he says, it’s very exciting. And congratulations.”
She smiles. “Thanks. I’m excited, too!”
I wish her luck and turn to walk over to the house but immediately collide with a cement mixer.
“Fuck!”
As I rub my shin, I become aware of piles of sawdust, planks of wood, and stray stones strewn everywhere—as well as the usual covering of dust. This place is a tip. There’s a bag of plaster that has a hole in it and is spilling out over the patio and, worst of all, a battery-powered drill has been left standing on a wall. If Archie picked that up …
And he would pick it up …
I quickly grab hold of it, making a mental note not to get angry at the builders. It can’t help that all the furniture, rugs, cushions and coffee-table books that we stripped out of the house are still piled up behind the chapel—together with that awful spinning wheel. If I’m going to tell Giuseppe he and his men need to be tidier and store their tools away, first I need to create some space.
“Theo, kids!” I shout. “It’s time to light that bonfire!”
