If your partner communicates certain beliefs or opinions, listen.
You may not always agree, and your value system may not necessarily align with theirs, but it is through your genuine acknowledgement of their experiences that you will be able to improve your communicative strategies.
Despite this advice, perhaps the most challenging communication to read is that which is never spoken verbally or otherwise. This communication comes from a deeply intimate and personal knowledge of your significant other. They may, through their actions or through other means, communicate things which are still unknown to even them.
nove
Early the next morning, Sarah was filling the saucepan with water for a cup of tea when a face suddenly appeared at the window in front of her. She screeched and the saucepan hit the sink with a booming metallic clunk.
‘I see you have found thecucina,’ said the man from the other side of the glass. ‘Brava. Good.’
With her heart in her stomach and her pulse racing, Sarah darted to the door which led outside. ‘I’m sorry, but you scared me,’ she said, ushering the man into the kitchen.
‘No, it is I who should be sorry.’ The spindly framed man had a narrow face, sunken eyes and a pencil-thin nose, and he stepped into the kitchen and set the large, covered wicker basket he was carrying down on the island bench. He took a moment to readjust his shirt and flatten the edges of his knitted vest, revealing calloused knobbly knuckles. Removing his khaki green flat cap, he gently nodded his head in Sarah’s direction. ‘Angelo Innocenti.Piacere,Signora D’Adamo.’
‘Lovely to meet you too.’ She accepted the warm embrace he offered, reciprocating his cheek kisses. ‘Please call me Sarah.’
‘Va bene. Sarah. And is Signor D’Adamo here this morning?’ He craned his neck to see out into the open foyer.
‘Yes. He’s just—’
‘I thought I heard a new voice.’ On cue, Matthew joined them, half in his pyjamas, half in his day clothes, surprised to find Angelo there so early in the morning. ‘Are you Angelo?’
‘Sì, Signor D’Adamo.’
Matthew waved his hands to cancel all formalities. ‘Matthew.Dammi del tu.’
‘Certo. Matteo,’ Angelo humbly obliged, now turning to embrace Matthew. ‘Today is a very special day, you know.’ He cast a finger skyward. ‘Today, we begin our journey together. A new family. A new partnership.’
‘We are so excited to have you work with us,’ Sarah said.
‘Grazie, grazie. I know this land like the back of my hand. I know the soil. I know this property. I have much to teach you and not enough time to do it.’
‘We have a year,’ Matthew laughed.
‘Only a year? Matteo . . .’ Angelo tutted. ‘It takes a lifetime to understand this land. They say it is in death, upon our return to the earth, that we truly come to know the meaning of it all. We are connected to the soil, the wind, the water . . . Life is all around. It fuels us and guides us. Life here is very different from that of the big cities, and of Australia, I’m sure. I will do my best to teach you both, but you,’ he looked expectantly between the two, ‘have a lot of work to do. Beyond the manual labour.’
‘I grew up on a farm, actually,’ Sarah said.
Angelo’s arms flew through the air. ‘Allora,caraSarah, you know exactly what I mean! You can help me teachhim.’ He prodded Matthew’s middle, and Sarah couldn’t help but giggle.
Angelo’s eyes narrowed in on them intently. The sun-ravaged skin on his face was almost the same colour of the terracotta roof tiles. Sarah was instantly drawn to this curious vivacious man; small in stature and frame, but big in spirit.
A wide smile formed across Sarah’s mouth, and her eyes locked with Matthew’s. ‘I’m up for the challenge,’ she said.
‘Perfetto.’ Angelo clapped his hands together, and the noise echoed through the kitchen and out into the hallway. ‘Let’s begin.’
‘Right now?’ Matthew asked, gesturing to his half-dressed state.
‘Matteo,sono le 7.00. Sbrigati! The day is wasting away before my very eyes.’ Angelo gave a playful wink to Sarah.
‘No problems, boss.’ And with that, he disappeared into their room to finish dressing.
‘You can call meCapitano,’ Angelo called back.
Standing in the courtyard with Convento delle Viole at their shoulders and the rolling valley ahead of them, Angelo pointed to the faint outline of an old stone fence. ‘Everything from there to up behind theconventois yours.’
Sarah and Matthew followed Angelo down the steps and across the next two shelves of land before finally arriving at the clearing. He walked them through the orchard on the right, boasting pear, apple, stone fruit and citrus trees, and the vineyard and olive grove to the left. The grapevines, more than a century old, were a combination of Sangiovese and Sagrantino varieties, and the Frantoio olive trees, Angelo explained, were likely to be close to three hundred years old.
