In her imagination, Jade heard the chime of Mairead’s up-and-down voice and smiled mistily before her eyes moved on.
Remember that I had a long and mostly happy life, darling. Sheenagh and Ferdinando will help you when you need them. It’s a shame that darling Nonno wasn’t in touch with his family, because otherwise you might have had aunts, uncles and cousins to support you. Rocco’s parents ran away from their families when they discovered baby Rocco was on the way and the rift never healed.
And now I must tell you something you might find hard to understand – I know more about Joey’s life than I let you believe. He’s adamant that he’ll cut all contact with me if I tell you. I believe that threat and you know how it scares me. Is he ashamed that he’s never visited you? Maybe. Or does he think that if he forms attachments then he’ll be obliged to become less selfish? Perhaps. I don’t know for certain. Please, please know that I have argued, but he’s so peculiar about relationships. I think that he literally can’t bear responsibility, just like some people can’t bear enclosed spaces, and being drawn into a family would feel like being trapped in a suffocating box with no room to move and no way out.
Frowning, Jade read that paragraph again, hoping Mairead wasn’t about to make it her dying wish that, regardless, Jade tried to form a relationship with Joey. Then her gaze fell to the next line and she gasped aloud.
Joey has two more daughters.
The page trembled so much that she had to put it down on the desk to read on.
You once conjectured that, having no contact with your father or your mother, you might have any number of half-siblings. It was hard not to confess then, because I’ve known about the children about as long as Joey himself has. After he left home, his wanderings took him to Scotland, though of course he made no attempt to contact my cousins there. Odd boy! When he was twenty-one and staying in Dundee, he had a girlfriend called Lisa Ferguson. He moved on to some other place that took his fancy without realising Lisa was pregnant and didn’t discover it until he passed back through Dundee when the baby was two. Evidently, Lisa wanted nothing from Joey – which, of course, suited him fine. I know little about the child except that she’s called Erin Ferguson and she’s about three years younger than you.
Then, when Joey was twenty-seven, he met Donna Anning. Her parents had a wee shop in Devon in England and Joey worked for a builder who did a job there. Joey once told me he loved Donna and perhaps he did, in his own way. I assume Donna loved him back. Unfortunately, a kidney ailment was discovered when Donna was pregnant and she became ill. Despite being allergic torelationships and responsibilities Joey stayed in Devon with her, helping care for the wee girl, Rosalie. She has his name, Beretta, but I don’t think he and Donna married.
Donna died when Rosalie was four and Joey began to drift again, but he took Rosalie. Rosalie wanted to be with him and Donna’s parents were too grief-stricken over their daughter’s passing to look after her anyway. They weren’t fond of Joey, so I doubt the three of them could have shared care. I sensed he was panicked that the best Rosalie could do for a parent was him, so I did begin a conversation about him bringing her to us, but then Nonno died and it wouldn’t have been fair on anyone.
At this sudden, shocking knowledge that one of these sisters might have shown up in Jade’s early teens, Jade had to grab tissues from a box on Mary’s desk. She blotted her eyes and blew her nose, feeling as if she were reading a sad novel rather than a story about her own family. She read on.
Rosalie and Joey lived together until she went to university at eighteen. I’m surprised he managed to keep her in school to get enough qualifications for university. Anyway, with her settled, he wandered off on his own again.
Jade let her attention stray to the window between the pot plants and the section of watery grey-green San Bartolomeo church she could see across the street. ‘This must be a dream,’ she murmured from an aching throat. ‘Gran wouldn’t have known all this and not told me.’ But nobody woke her and the traffic outside sounded real. She returned to the letter.
I know you’ll be shocked.
The writing wobbled and Jade wondered whether Gran had been upset.
Please, please forgive me for not sharing what I knew, my lovely Jade. The way I saw things, if I did as Joey asked, I could still have contact with him without alienating you, my darling. It meant I’d never meet my other granddaughters, which hurt my heart, but staying in touch with Joey meant I could occasionally hear news of Rosalie at least. It felt like making the best of a bad job. With the stance Joey took, I simply couldn’t have everything – contact with my son and all my granddaughters.
This is the hardest part of the letter to write. I fibbed about naming the pensione Three Sisters because of the mountains of Scotland where I honeymooned with Nonno – actually, our honeymoon was spent driving from Scotland to Como with all my possessions stuffed in the car. I named Three Sisters for you, Erin and Rosalie. Nonno and I had talked about things in general terms– so Nonno must have known too! –but after he’d gone, the decisions became mine. As the years went by, I chewed things over and decided to leave the pensione between the three of you – which Italian law will accept, once Joey has refused his share. It’s not just because someone must acknowledge that Joey has three daughters. It’s because Mary Smith asked an agency to keep tabs on Erin and Rosalie, and each of them lives alone. Therefore, I have a dear wish that you’ll form attachments to each other and not be isolated, any of you. (And to be money-minded, as you know I am, your combined tax allowance will meanthere’ll be little or no inheritance tax. It’s a damned shame that people must be taxed on what’s left to them, but that’s governments for you.)
Hearing Mairead’s indignation in the words, Jade managed a tremulous smile, despite the shockwaves whooshing through her.
I’m grieved that I’ll never meet Erin and Rosalie, but I hope that perhaps a little of my huge love for you will somehow filter through to them.
Buckets of love,
Gran xx
It was what Gran had put in birthday cards.Buckets of love. Gran had always given Jade buckets of love, wrapping her in impulsive hugs in the middle of the street or hiding chocolate truffles in Jade’s bedroom as delicious surprises. Those memories made believing the contents of her letter all the harder. Still locked in disbelief, Jade reread every word of the letter and the shocking, distressing secret that Gran had kept to pander to her extraordinarily self-centred son. Maternal love was a very strange thing.
By the time Mary returned five minutes later, a paper cup of water in hand, Jade was clutching most of the contents of the tissue box to her face, soaking them in silent tears. She took the water with a choked word of thanks.
‘I’m sorry you’re distressed.’ Mary resumed her seat behind the desk. ‘Would you prefer to take a copy of Mairead’s will away with you after I’ve explained a few things? It’s very straightforward.’
Jade turned burning eyes on the sympathetic but businesslike woman. ‘Yes, please. I think Gran’s told me the gist. I’m... shocked.’ She gulped back a new sob.
‘Of course.’ Mary outlined the contents of the will, which did indeed echo what Mairead had explained in her letter. Then she passed over another envelope, bigger than the first, and bulkier, as it contained Jade’s copy. ‘Do you have any questions?’
Jade turned the envelope over in her hands, unopened. ‘Are you the one who tells... the others?’
‘Erin Ferguson and Rosalie Beretta? I am,’ Mary confirmed. ‘Your grandmother’s wishes were very clear.’
‘OK. Thanks.’ Stiffly, Jade rose. Then she hesitated. ‘Do they live in England? The others?’
Mary maintained a professional smile. ‘The addresses I hold are in England, yes.’
Jade threw the wodge of wet tissues in a grey bin beside the desk and scrabbled the last few from the box. ‘Sorry. I’ve used them all.’
