Acknowledging that if this were emotional for her having loved Gran, they were grieving never having known her, Jade took a big breath. ‘If her clothes are going to charity, shall we begin by folding them into bags?’ She opened the first wardrobe door to a colourful array of red, pink, purple and turquoise.
‘Blimey.’ Rosalie hovered closer. ‘Is that sports gear?’
Unexpectedly, a laugh gurgled out of Jade at the sight of the rainbow of Lycra. ‘She used to do yoga for seniors. I think towards the end putting on the gym gear was all the workout she could manage, so she sat at the side of the class and waited for her friends to be ready for the after-class coffee. The turquoise leggings and bubble-gum-pink top were her favourites.’ She pulled out the said top to display its slogan:Yogis do it on their heads. When the others laughed, she felt somehow better. At least she could help shape their picture of darling Gran.
‘There’s a lot of purple,’ Erin observed, as they took the petite clothes off hangers and folded them.
‘Her favourite colour. She called it “heather”.’ Jade nodded.
Rosalie pulled out a thick, quilted ‘heather’ coat. ‘Amazing to think she needed this in Italy.’
‘It gets cold in winter. It looks gorgeous with the snow-topped mountains surrounding the lake.’ Jade held out a bag so Rosalie could fold the coat and pop it in.
‘You mentioned us using this room when we came back... I mean, could we...?’ Rosalie floundered to a stop.
Gently, Erin stepped in. ‘Jade, we’re trying to be mindful of how hard this is on you. But we’d like to be able to stay in the apartment – not just when we’re here to complete formalities, but going forward. How would you feel about that?’
Taking her time tying the neck of the rustling black bag of clothes, Jade’s heart plummeted, but her head remained practical and fair. ‘We’re going to own equal shares in Three Sisters. To me, that means you can visit whenever you want. But... as the manager, I think I should be able to retain my own bedroom and you two share this,’ she added in a rush.
‘Of course. This is your home.’ Rosalie fluttered her hands in the air as if not sure whether to offer Jade a hug.
‘That’s very fair, thank you,’ Erin put in more smoothly. ‘You could easily insist that sole use of the apartment was part of being the manager.’
Jade subdued the urge to say, ‘Now you tell me.’
Picking up a glass of water, Erin sat down cross-legged on the cool, tiled segment of floor and blew her hair from her face. ‘If you could tell us the door code...’ Then she halted. ‘Damn. I’ve been trying hard not to be pushy. I should’ve said, “Jade, do you have any practicalities to suggest around our use of the apartment?” Sorry.’
Jade, too, took a drink and slid down onto the tiles. ‘Thanks for trying not to trample my toes,’ she said wryly. Her gaze shifted from Erin, whose bob was only marginally disarranged by the heat, to Rosalie, who was lying down full-length on the tiles and looked super-casual in a T-shirt that had picked up a smudge of dust. The neckline sagged and Jade was able to see a hitherto hidden tattoo between Rosalie’s breasts – three gemstones linked by a fine chain. The top one was green, the middle one uncoloured, and the bottom one red. It reminded Jade of the Italian flag. She blinked her gaze away. ‘The apartment door code’s Gran’s birthday: third of December. Zero-three-one-two. I’ll get keys cut to the other door to the apartment from the bit at the back.’ A smile tugged at her lips. ‘It’s not big enough to be a yard or garden, so that’s what Gran called it – “the bit at the back”.’
She gazed around the room and tried to be as fair as Erin and Rosalie were being. ‘Is there anything here that you’d like? A keepsake, maybe?’
Erin and Rosalie exchanged glances. ‘I think,’ said Erin carefully, ‘that I’m in no rush to move what doesn’t need moving.’
Smile flashing, Rosalie agreed. ‘It’s nice to see her things, like the glass musician figures rocking along the windowsill, and useher TV and radio.’ She gazed at the photos in frames on the dressing table, their backs reflected in the mirror. ‘Her photos show me a tiny part of her life.’
Jade pointed at the one she’d been studying earlier. ‘Me and Gran at a party.’ She moved on to three frames, hinged together, silver and probably expensive. ‘That’s Gran and Nonno getting married – doesn’t Gran look gorgeous in the full white bridal gown? And with Joey at his christening. Then the three of them when Joey was starting school.’ The wedding photo was black and white, and the others colour, faded despite the protective glass. Gran and Nonno were smiling, but Joey gazed into the camera as if wondering why he had to do this.
The next triple-frame was of wood. ‘These are all me – my christening, at primary school and when I’d just begun senior.’ Jade gazed into the smiling face of the child she’d been, sheltered by the love of Gran and Nonno.
‘Look at your crazy curls in your baby pic.’ Rosalie laughed.
‘From my mother, apparently.’ Jade touched the chignon she’d wrapped those curls into today.
Erin stared at the photos, her expression a mixture of shock and wonder. ‘I’ve never seen him before. At least, not that I remember. It’s weird to look at the face of that little boy and thinkyou’re my father.’
Shock jolted through Jade. ‘Wow,’ she said awkwardly, guiltily. ‘I never thought that you’d have no idea what he looked like.’
‘I have pics of him as an adult.’ Rosalie sounded uncomfortable too. ‘Dad didn’t like having his photo taken, so there are only a couple, like when he took me to a kids’ party and the host made it hard for him to escape.’
‘Gran had a few snaps from his teens.’ All Jade’s life she’d resisted knowing much about the man who’d fathered her, but now, being forced to accept Joey’s other daughters, he felt moreof a factor. Scooting over to the dressing table, she opened the bottom drawer and extracted an album. The cover was black, with a border of red poppies and a mother-of-pearl eagle in flight. The pages were dark grey card.
‘It’s old.’ She resumed her cross-legged position and held the album so the others could shuffle up and view it as she opened to the first page. ‘More wedding photos. They married in Scotland. Nonno’s mother, Bisnonna – or great-grandmother – travelled over, which must have been a trek in those days. Nonno doesn’t have any family. At least, not around Como,’ Jade went on, realising they probably wouldn’t know this part of their shared history. ‘His parents were from Lecco, but they ran away because they were pregnant.’ Reading the surprise in the gazes they turned her way, she grinned. ‘It sounds tame by today’s standards, but there was a big quarrel because Bisnonno’s family was better off than Bisnonna’s. The rift was never healed. Nonno was born in 1942. His father – also named Rocco, confusingly – had to join the army and then was killed in the war. Nonno’s mother never remarried and died before I was born.’
‘Do you know anything of Gran’s side?’ Rosalie’s head tilted questioningly, like a sparrow.
Jade shrugged. ‘There are probably a few relatives left in Mull, where Gran was born, but she was an only child and her first cousins all died before her. I’m used to us only having each other. Was used to.’ She corrected herself.
Erin scrutinised photos of Gran Mairead and Nonno Rocco signing the marriage register or cutting a wedding cake with a bunch of flowers on top. ‘Photography used to be expensive. That’s why there are so few early ones I suppose.’ She paused at a faded colour image of a boy of about eleven with dark, slicked-back hair, studiously cradling a book. ‘Joey’s school photo?’
