‘I’d love one, thank you,’ Lainey assured her, having no idea what the lemon-coloured liquid was in the crystal jug between them. However, she was eager to try it, if only to be polite. ‘Shall I pour?’
‘
Si, si, le mie mani tremano ‘in questi giorni,
’ she replied, gesturing for Lainey to continue.
‘She’s saying that her hands shake a little these days,’ Marco explained, and seeing Lainey grimace as she lifted the heavy jug, he took it from her and did the honours himself.
Though the drink was sugary it was refreshingly cold, and as soon as Lainey realised Signora Calduzzi was awaiting a verdict, she declared, ‘
Delizioso
.’
Seeming almost childlike in her delight,
la signora
chuckled happily and took a sip herself. She spoke rapidly then to Marco, and for several minutes Lainey simply listened, picking up on the odd word here and there, but unable to make any real sense of what was being said.
‘She is telling me that you have a very strong resemblance to your mother around your eyes and the shape of your face,’ Marco explained. ‘Your colouring too, and she is wondering if your spirit is as mischievous.’
Breaking into a smile, Lainey turned to
la signora
, saying, ‘Hopefully only on her better days.’
Marco translated and
la signora
clapped her hands in amusement. She then continued in Italian, telling Lainey through Marco how close she and Alessandra had been as girls, and how very much she’d missed her friend after she’d left for England. Apparently she’d written to Alessandra many times in the early years, but Alessandra had only replied once, to tell her that she would never come back. After that, all Carlotta’s letters had gone unanswered, until eventually she’d stopped writing. But she’d never stopped praying for Alessandra to change her mind and return home, she said, or simply to send word.
‘And now,’ she sighed, a little tearfully, ‘she is with the Blessed Virgin. I am always afraid for this, that I am never seeing her again.
Era malate da tanto
?’
‘Was she ill for long?’ Marco translated.
Already warming to this woman, simply for seeming to care so much about her mother, Lainey said, ‘She had cancer.’ She glanced at Marco, but
la signora
said, ‘
Si, si,
I understand. This is very sad, but you were with her?’
‘Yes,’ Lainey replied. ‘My sisters were too, and my father.’
‘You have sisters?’ She seemed surprised and pleased.
‘Two, Sarah and Esther. They’re my half-sisters, and Peter is my adoptive father.’
Carlotta nodded gravely.
‘Peter’s a wonderful man,’ Lainey told her. ‘My mother was very happy with him, and I couldn’t wish for a better father.’
Carlotta smiled. ‘I hear long time ago from Maria, your great-grandmother, that our beloved Alessandra marries a nice Englishman. It is very good for my heart when I hear this.’
‘You knew Maria?’ Lainey asked.
‘
Si, si
, I know all family of Alessandra. We are children together in Tuoro and on the island where live my grandparents – and Maria.’
Reaching into her bag, Lainey said, ‘I have a letter here, or part of one, that I found amongst my mother’s belongings. I was wondering if it might have been from Maria?’
Having put on her glasses, Carlotta took the single page, and while reading she touched her fingers to her lips as though to stop any emotion escaping. ‘
Si
,’ she said softly, ‘I believe this is from Maria. She is very sad when Alessandra leave. It break her heart. You understand, she was like a mother for Alessandra. She care for her very much.’
Lainey swallowed. ‘Why do you think my mother told Maria she’d named me after her mother, Melvina?’
Carlotta’s eyes darkened as she lowered them. ‘Did Alessandra never tell you what happen between her and her mother?’ she asked.
Lainey shook her head. ‘I know something did, but she’d never talk about it. It’s why I’m here, to try to find out why she left her family when she was still so young.’ She hesitated a moment. ‘I was also hoping,’ she went on cautiously, ‘that you might be able to tell me who my real father is?’
At that, Carlotta rose to her feet and began pacing the room. She seemed so agitated as she spoke to Marco in Italian that Lainey almost wished she hadn’t broached the subject. She looked at Marco, who discreetly raised a hand, indicating she should allow
la signora
to finish whatever she was saying.
As she waited Lainey realised, with an awful churning inside, that there couldn’t be much doubt now that her ugliest suspicions were being confirmed. It was the only truth she could imagine that would cause such a reaction, and as the shame of it burned into her heart she felt so wretched, and so afraid for her children, that she hardly knew how she could go forward from here.
In the end, as Carlotta seemed to calm down, Marco attempted a translation.
‘Basically, she is saying,’ he began, ‘that as your mother never told you about your father then she feels that she cannot either. It is a truth that is far better to die with those who have kept it a secret all these years.’
Lainey turned to Carlotta, understanding why she wouldn’t want to put the shame into words, but she couldn’t simply let it go. ‘It was Luigi Valente, wasn’t it? He was both my father and grandfather?’
Carlotta frowned in confusion and looked to Marco. After he’d translated she turned back to Lainey, shaking her head. ‘No, no, child,’ she exclaimed vehemently, ‘Luigi Valente is not your father. Maybe your grandfather, but I think even your grandmother, Melvina, does not know this for certain. Aldo, he always believe Alessandra is his, and Melvina, this is what she tell the world, that Alessandra is the daughter of Aldo. After what happen to her son . . . Do you know this, that Melvina had a son who die very young?’
Lainey nodded and waited while Marco related what they’d been told by Signor Donata.
‘
Si, si,
I think this is true about the wife of Valente,’ Carlotta responded. ‘She was not a good woman. Of course, I am not born at this time, but my mother, she tell me when I am older about the curse on the son of Melvina. I know it is hard to believe in such things, but I am sure it was right for Melvina to tell everyone Aldo is the father of Alessandra. This way they keep her safe.’
Coming to sit at the table again, she took one of Lainey’s hands and held it in both of hers. For a long time she simply gazed at Lainey’s fingers, seeming absorbed by the neutrally painted nails, the creases around her knuckles, the platinum band of her wedding ring. ‘I understand you want to know who is your father,’ she said in the end, ‘but,
mia bambina
, it is not an easy story to tell, and I think it is,’ she glanced at Marco,
‘piu difficile per te sentire.’
‘More difficult for you to hear,’ Marco translated.
Lainey nodded, and attempted a smile of reassurance. Whatever the truth, she’d come this far, so she wasn’t going to allow herself to turn back.
Carlotta’s eyes drifted for a moment, and when she spoke it was hard to read her expression. However, the bitterness of her tone was enough to convey her feelings. ‘It was Melvina, your grandmother, who cause the trouble,’ she stated bluntly. She looked at Lainey. ‘My mother always she say no one understand how gentle soul like Maria can have daughter like Melvina.’ She took a breath and shook her head. ‘You speak already of Valente,’ she continued, ‘so you know that he and Melvina . . .’
When she stopped Lainey realised she didn’t want to put Melvina’s carnal sins into words, so she nodded and said, ‘Yes, we know.’
‘But he is not your father,’ Carlotta assured her. ‘I cannot be sure if he is your grandfather, I can only tell you what my mother tell me, that when Melvina is on the island after the death of her son, Valente does not go there during this time. Only Aldo is there and when they return to Tuoro she is pregnant with Alessandra. Perhaps Valente and Melvina find a way to see each other when she is on the island, I do not know, but Aldo always say that Alessandra is his. Whether he believe it only he knows, but the world pity him, because they know that Melvina is crazy for Valente. She have no care for her child, or her immortal soul, she care only for this man.’
Looking down at Lainey’s hand again, she folded her own more closely around it.
‘The trouble, it begin,’ she said, ‘when your mother, Alessandra, is sixteen and Valente see her for first time since she is grown. Like her mother, she is very beautiful, very how you say,
sviluppata
?’
‘Developed,’ Marco told her.
‘
Si,
she is much developed for her age, and of course she is young and Melvina is now not so young. I do not know how Melvina find out that Valente want her daughter, maybe he tell her himself, or maybe she understand this from seeing him with Alessandra. Alessandra, she is how you say, playful with the boys. Not in a way to cause trouble, you understand, but she flirt a little and she like to have the attention. And the boys . . . they give her the attention. Always when we do
il passeggio
, she is the one they choose and it depend on her mood if she will walk with them. Sometimes she will, sometimes she will not. Some people say, after it all happen, that she bring it on herself with the way she is, but this is not true. It is her mother who make it happen. It is her mother who is so
gelosa
that she is the one who will suffer for all eternity for what she do to her daughter.’
Realising her throat had gone dry, Lainey picked up her drink and took a sip. She couldn’t even begin to guess what Carlotta was about to tell her, nor did she want to try. It was in the past now, so whatever it was, it couldn’t hurt her – please God.
‘Alessandra, she swear to me,’ Carlotta continued, ‘that she never do bad things with Valente. He want her, he beg her, but she is good Catholic like her grandmother, Maria. And Valente, he is old man.
Never
she want him. She tell her mother this, but Melvina is crazy with the jealous. She does not believe her. She send her to the island to be with her grandmother, so Valente does not see her, but Alessandra she come back to Tuoro, and Valente, one day he come to the apartment when only Alessandra is there. Melvina find them laughing together and Alessandra, because she is angry with her mother, she flirt with Valente in a way to make Melvina think something happen with them.’
Carlotta’s hand was shaking noticeably as she took a sip of her drink and dabbed her mouth with a tissue. She was no longer meeting Lainey’s eyes; instead she was staring blindly, painfully into the past.
‘Melvina she do nothing until Valente is gone,’ she continued, ‘then she take Alessandra by the hair and she drag her into Piazza Marconi where is their apartment, calling her terrible names. My mother and me, we hear the screams, and we run out to see what happens. Melvina is in terrible rage. She drag Alessandra to the church and push her into
il confessionale
. Padre Angelo he come and Melvina tell Alessandra to confess her sin. Alessandra swear she has no sin but Melvina does not believe her. The padre, he try to make Melvina calm, but Melvina cannot control her rage. She tell Alessandra she is no longer her daughter, she cannot come home. Alessandra beg her to listen, but when they get to the apartment Melvina slam the door in her face and say she never want to see her again.
‘Alessandra is very scared. She run back through the village and down to the lake. She want to get to her grandmother, but it is dark now and there are no boats. She say she never hear anyone coming behind her, she only know when she is forced to the ground and the terrible things begin to happen to her.’
As Carlotta stopped to take a breath, Lainey could feel herself recoiling from the horror of her words.
Her mother was raped. This was how she was conceived.
‘After it is over,’ Carlotta continued, ‘the attackers, there are two of them, they leave her where she is and it is my uncle who find her the next day. He bring her to us and she tell me she is sure one of them is the priest, because he wear a long black gown, but she did not see his face. She knows she cannot say this to anyone, because they will never believe her. So she keep it to herself, and ask me to do the same. Then, few weeks later, while she is with Maria on the island, she learn she is pregnant and she is so unhappy she want to die.’ Carlotta’s lips were trembling now, her face pale as tears filled her eyes. ‘You understand, Elenora, she did not know you then . . .’
‘Of course I understand,’ Lainey assured her. What mother would want a child who’d been fathered in such a way? In fact, if Alessandra hadn’t been Catholic Lainey was sure she’d never have been born.
‘I do not know if God in His mercy will ever forgive Melvina for how she turn her back on Alessandra, both before and after the attack. She is afraid, of course, that Valente is the father, and this she cannot bear. So she send Alessandra back to the island and tell her she must never leave.’
Lainey’s pity for her mother was overwhelming. She could fully understand now why Alessandra had never wanted to see Melvina again. She even understood why she’d wanted Melvina to think she’d named her daughter after her. It would not have been what Melvina wanted to hear: it would have been like a punishment, an attempt to add to her shame.
‘I am sorry, Elenora, for what I am telling you,’ Carlotta said, tightening her hold on Lainey’s hand. ‘Whether God will forgive those who do this to your mother, only He know. Maybe the men they confess and receive absolution, but Melvina . . .’ She shook her head hopelessly.
Swallowing the bile in her throat, Lainey asked, ‘So what happened after she went back to the island?’
Carlotta sighed. ‘It is very difficult time for everyone, because Alessandra, she will no longer go to the church and this upset Maria very much. It upset Aldo too. He think, like Melvina, that Valente is the father of the child, and he want, when the baby come, that Alessandra give it to the nuns. But when the time come Alessandra will not do it. At first I think she keep you to punish her mother, she say this is true, but then, when it is clear how much this is hurting Maria, she still will not give you up. In the end Maria write to her cousin in England to ask if you can go to her. So after
il battesimo
Alessandra agree to this. She take you with her to London and we . . . we never see her again.’