2008 - Recipes for Cherubs (38 page)

The Café Romana was still there, but it lay in darkness, which was odd because it had always been full in the evenings. She smiled then, thinking of the days when she’d lingered for hours over a sarsaparilla, making eyes at the local boys. She supposed Tony Agosti had long since left for the bright lights of the city; he’d always had ambition, that boy, and he was so good-looking.

Outside Meredith Evans’s shop she stopped to catch her breath and glance at the photographs on display. God almighty, it was like a time warp in there; none of the photographs had been changed.

Meredith had been an odd little fellow and absolutely besotted with Aunt Alice. Maybe when all the hullabaloo had died down after the wedding Alice had married him. In fact, Mrs Alice Meredith might be in there now, fast asleep upstairs, cuddled up to Meredith.

That whole affair between Aunt Alice and Arthur Campbell had been very odd. Whatever he’d seen in Aunt Alice had been a total mystery, and it would never have worked out between them. She’d done Aunt Alice a favour, really, by flirting with Arthur, although she hadn’t meant it to turn out the way it had. God, it had been awful when Aunt Alice didn’t turn up at the chapel, with everyone there waiting expectantly. There was worse to come, though, when Ella had shown her the photographs of her and Arthur Campbell together. She’d never been in any doubt about who had taken them; it was Meredith, and the motive pure spite. Oh, well, that was all water under the bridge and probably all for the best as far as everyone was concerned. She’d thought it was the end of the world at the time, but it had given her the opportunity to escape from Kilvenny and Arthur Campbell had provided for her and Catrin well.

She looked down Cockle Lane towards Kilvenny Castle and shuddered. She’d hated that spooky place when she was a child. It was so ancient and cold, full of whispering noises and peculiar smells that came from nowhere. When she got back to London she’d put it on the market and get shot of it.

As she came level with the castle she stopped in her tracks. There was a flickering light in her old bedroom windows, as if the fire had been lit, and there was a light on in the kitchen.

She crept up to the latticed windows and peered inside. An old woman with the wildest hair she’d ever seen was sitting near the stove and opposite her sat Catrin, cross-legged in a high-backed chair. She looked very different from the last time Kizzy had seen her. She’d put on some weight, and her skin was bronzed, her face animated in a way Kizzy had rarely seen. Kizzy bristled. How could she sit there looking so bloody cheerful when she’d left her own mother abandoned in a convent full of lunatics?

She looked at the old woman again and realised with a shock that it was Aunt Ella. The years hadn’t been kind to her – she’d never been a good-looking woman but she’d always made the best of herself in a casual way. What were they doing down here at the castle, instead of up at Shrimp’s?

She was about to march in and disturb this delightful domestic scene, but then she had second thoughts. Aunt Ella wasn’t likely to kill the fatted calf at her homecoming so perhaps it would be best if she went up to Shrimp’s first, to find out what was going on. If Aunt Alice was there it would be easier to break the ice with her – she was always the easier of the two to twist round Kizzy’s finger.

She backed away from the window and hurried down Cockle Lane where she stood looking at the Fisherman’s Snug. She thought longingly of those long, hot summers when she’d been home from boarding school and how she used to hide under the table in there for a kissing session with whoever she was with at the time. She sighed and slipped off her shoes to relieve her pinched toes, and to her surprise the door of the Snug opened and someone stepped out of the shadows.

“It’s been a long time,” a voice said coldly.

Kizzy screwed up her eyes against the darkness. The man came closer: she swallowed hard. The pulse in the man’s throat was beating quickly, his face drained of colour in the moonlight.

“So you came back at last, then?” he said through gritted teeth.

“Hallo, Meredith. Well, you’ll be glad to hear I’m not staying long. I’ve just come to pick up my daughter.”

“That’s a shame. She seems happy here, and she looks a damn sight better than when she arrived.”

“Ah, well, that’s good. I need to get back to London with her as soon as possible.”

“Where are you off to now?”

“Up to Shrimp’s, actually, looking for Aunt Alice.”

“You won’t find her there.”

“I see,” Kizzy said. So she was right, he must have married Aunt Alice after all. Kizzy slipped her shoes back on and followed Meredith back up Cockle Lane, huffing and puffing loudly, hoping he’d do the gentlemanly thing and carry her suitcase.

He walked resolutely on and stopped by the wicket gate that led to the graveyard.

“She’s over there,” he said.

Kizzy looked bemused as she followed his gaze. Then he pulled something from his pocket and the beam of a torch danced across the gravestones, coming to rest on one.

Alice Katherine Grieve

Taken after a short illness

Kizzy looked from the grave to Meredith and then down at her feet in embarrassment and annoyance, realising with irritation that she’d laddered her stockings and she’d put them on new this morning.

“Have you at last come back to apologise for what you did?”

“I didn’t even know she’d died,” Kizzy said sulkily.

“Because you never bothered to find out.”

“No, because Ella Grieve unceremoniously threw me out. You know what Ella’s like. She wouldn’t listen and she had no intention of forgiving me.”

Meredith looked away in disgust. “Alice broke her heart when she found out what you’d been up to with that bloody Campbell.”

“And you can honestly tell me that you were sad about that?” Kizzy taunted.

Meredith bristled with anger. “Everybody knew I hated him, but I never wanted her to be hurt, never thought she’d leave Kilvenny. She left, you know, and didn’t come back for a long time, and by the time she did she was seriously ill.”

“And that was my fault, too, I suppose?” Kizzy snapped.

“I think the fact that you were pregnant had a lot to do with it.”

Kizzy laughed uproariously. Meredith glared at her, clenching and unclenching his fists as if contemplating hitting her.

“So you knew I was pregnant? I’m not the first and I won’t be the last girl to fall for someone’s charm and be left holding the baby.”

“What you did to Alice was despicable, and you think it’s funny?”

Kizzy curbed her laughter, fell silent and then looked at Meredith as if she had suddenly realised he had two heads. “I don’t believe it! You think that I was pregnant by…?”

Meredith nodded slowly, deliberately.

“Oh my God! You think that Catrin’s father is…?”

Kizzy put her hand to her head and then looked beyond Meredith at a figure emerging from the shadows.

“Dan Gwartney?” she said.

Meredith turned and saw Dan Gwartney standing there, a glowing cigarette clamped between his lips.

“Welcome back, Kizzy. It’s been a long time.”

T
he icy wind whistled around the tower of Santa Rosa church, and the bells clanged loudly. In the piazza people milled around, stamping their feet to keep warm, blowing on their fingers, as they waited impatiently for the doors of the church to open. Today was the grand unveiling of Piero di Bardi’s painting of
Feasting Cherubs.
There were shivering peasants dressed in rags, huddled together for warmth, a clutch of priests from nearby villages chattering like starlings, and excited children running hither and thither, calling loudly to their friends
.

The crowd grew quieter as the door of the Villa Rosso opened. Signor and Signora Bisotti, dressed in their finery, heads held high, emerged into the piazza followed by Alessandra and Adriana on either side of Father Rimaldi
.

The crowd clamoured behind them but as they entered the church they grew quieter, pressing urgently for seats near the front, where a large canvas was covered by a crimson cloth
.

The Bisottis stood together while Father Rimaldi looked around impatiently for Piero di Bardi. Where the hell was the fellow? After a few minutes he sent a little lad scurrying off to the Via Dante in search of him. The child returned, red-faced with the cold, and whispered to Father Rimaldi, who in turn whispered to Signor Bisotti
.

The crowd began to grow restless and Signor Bisotti, eager not to lose his moment of fame, spoke hurriedly to Father Rimaldi
.

“
I paid him last night, so the fellow’s probably already drunk. These artist types are so unpredictable, so unreliable, not like normal people at all. Let’s just get on with it. These peasants don’t smell too good when they’re all cooped up together
.”

Father Rimaldi addressed the congregation, eulogising about the generosity of Signor Bisotti and how a small village like Santa Rosa would now be on the map, boasting a work of art from the renowned Piero di Bardi, who sadly was indisposed at present
.

Then, after a ferocious dig in the ribs from his wife, Signor Bisotti stepped forward and with a flourish whipped a corner of the crimson cloth away from the painting
.

Signor Bisotti’s eyes rolled upwards and he squealed with pain as Signora Bisotti’s nails dug into the soft flesh on the inside of his wrist
.

Alessandra and Adriana began to howl plaintively, screwing up their faces into masks of misery. Father Rimaldi’s face turned as white as the altar cloth and the crowd craned their necks to see what all the fuss was about
.

I
n the silence of the kitchen the clock ticked loudly. The only other sound was the intake of Catrin’s breath as the door opened and Kizzy made her entrance, breezing into the room and demanding immediate attention.

“Well, it’s all very nice and cosy in here,” she said sarcastically.

Catrin jumped to her feet with alacrity and stepped behind the chair she had been sitting in.

“Ah, at last the absent mother deigns to show her face,” Ella said, folding her arms firmly across her chest and staring defiantly at Kizzy.

Kizzy Grieve, as beautiful as ever, immaculately dressed with not a hair out of place and flawless make-up, was back in Kilvenny and determined to make her presence felt.

Kizzy gave Ella a cursory glance, then turned on Catrin, hands on her slim hips, her face set in anger.

“Well, madam,” she said, “I’d be very interested to know why I was left abandoned in Italy because you ignored my request for money!”

Catrin bit her lip and looked to Ella for reassurance. Ella smiled at her and winked to give her courage.

“I’m waiting for an answer to my question.”

Catrin looked away, wringing her hands in agitation.

“Maybe you’ll have to wait a long time,” Ella growled.

“This is my daughter, Aunt Ella, and I’ll be the judge of how long I have to wait.”

“Yes, she is your daughter and it’s a pretty sorry state of affairs that you sent her down here without asking if it was okay. Now, as it happens it was fine, but you, feckless idiot that you are, didn’t know that!”

“I was desperate, as it happens, and how was I to know you’d let Shrimp’s go to the dogs?”

“You’ve been up to Shrimp’s?” Ella asked.

“No, Dan Gwartney told me all that’s been going on here.”

“Well, I think that now you’ve decided to grace us with your company it’s you who have some questions to answer, not Catrin.”

Kizzy looked perturbed, anxiety drawing down the corners of her painted mouth momentarily.

Catrin took a deep breath and braced herself. “I didn’t send you any money and I didn’t want to ring Arthur Campbell because I thought he’d come and take me away from here.”

“So you thought it fine to leave me languishing miles from home in a lunatic asylum.”

“I wanted to teach you a lesson, if you must know, let you know that you can’t always get your own way.”

Catrin’s voice was high, a wobble of fear tightening in her throat. She’d never in all her life answered her mother back, and she was afraid of the consequences.

“Teach me a lesson? Do you think I’m a child? You left me stranded, and I had to beg a voyage back on a bloody boat from Naples and I was put in a cabin that was full of crates of onions and dried fish.”

Ella turned her head away to hide her amusement and Catrin, seeing her, had a terrible urge to giggle.

“I was sick of doing everything you asked me. You didn’t even tell me I had family here until it suited you to go gallivanting after some man.”

“Well, if you must know, the man in question sent me a postcard inviting me to Italy and then he didn’t bother to show up – I went all that way for nothing. To cap it all, when I got home the house had been burgled,” Kizzy said with a pout. Catrin thought that she looked more like a ten-year-old than a grown-up.

“I know you’ve told me lies, too,” Catrin faltered, biting her lip.

Ella got up and went to her.

“For goodness sake we can do without the theatricals, Catrin,” Kizzy said, slumping into a chair, removing a shoe and rubbing her toes.

Ella snorted. “That’s bloody rich coming from you, Kizzy Grieve. There wasn’t a day went by when you didn’t make a drama out of something when you were a teenager.”

“That’s rubbish. I was highly strung and sensitive.”

“I think you have some explaining to do.”

For the first time ever, Kizzy looked as if the wind had been taken out of her sails and Catrin looked at Ella with admiration.

“Catrin knows you were pregnant the summer you left school.”

Kizzy stiffened. “I suppose you couldn’t wait to tell her that. You always were a stickler for the truth except where it concerned you.”

Ella glowered at Kizzy. “You have a very bright daughter – which is a miracle in itself. I told her nothing but she put two and two together and found the truth.”

“You told me I had your surname because my father’s name was foreign.”