The Soul Room (14 page)

‘Eh? Oh yes, your brother, I hear he is still missing. You know the
police have even talked to me about it?’

‘They’re just trying to cover all avenues, however unlikely. They know he
flew to Rome, and with our family history…’

‘I have fond memories of your family when you came on holiday, but your
brother wasn’t even born when you came all those years ago with your mother and
father.’ He smiled kindly. ‘So I see no reason why anyone would think there was
a connection.’

‘Well let’s just say that the British police are obviously very
thorough.’

‘Yes, and that is a good thing.’ He said with a conciliatory shrug of his
shoulders, ‘What can I say though? I know nothing about it, but I am sorry to
see what you are going through.’

‘He is my brother, and we were very close. I’ll do whatever I can to help
find him.’

‘I start to see the qualities that drew my son to you. You are very
determined. He valued that in a person, he valued independence of spirit. You
must be careful though, you are not Superwoman.’

‘Don’t worry, I’m very aware of my shortcomings.’

‘Ah now, please, not so hard on yourself! I mean only that you must put
yourself and your baby first, and this detective, Nickelby, he seems
competent.’

‘He is, but he’s also snowed under. His hands are tied until we can find
more…’ I broke off and turned away, I didn’t want him to see my expression.

Fabrizio got up and ground his cigar into the ground. He put his hand on
my shoulder. ‘Well if you must play detective, at least let me help you.’

I turned to face him, as much to get free of his hand as to square up to
him. ‘I’d appreciate any help, but I’m unsure of
how
you could help me?’

‘This baby is the whole world to me Madeline, it is all that is left of
my favourite child.’

His voice dropped and he took hold of me again, my hand this time, and
gripped it tightly. I fought the desire to shake free and looked back at him as
calmly as possible.

‘I had such dreams for Sergio, such plans. He was by far the cleverest,
much cleverer than me, I know. He could see and understand things in ways I
never could – he was like his Nonna. No one knew him as she did, not even his
own
Mamma
. And now he is gone, gone forever and my dreams go with him.

My daughter is a good girl and will keep the vineyard going when I am
gone,’ he started to lose his composure, only a little, but I could see he was
struggling to suppress his emotions, ‘but there will always be her
idiota
English snob of a husband. How can I trust all that I have made to him? This child,’
he released my hand then, but only to lay his on my belly. I felt my flesh
shrink from him, wondering if he could feel it too; but he only smiled
indulgently. ‘This child is the heir to a fortune, to one of the oldest and
most respected vineyards in Italy. Nothing now is more important to me than his
welfare.’

I felt his façade had left him now, he was speaking in earnest, and his
slightly jaundiced eyes were shining. ‘If you come back with me to Italy, you
will have the very best of care, both before and after the birth. There would
be lots of help too, so you could recover after the birth and have some time to
yourself. And not only that, I could help you find out what your brother was
doing in Italy. A man in my position and standing has many contacts and ways of
finding things out…’

‘This child is half English and it always will be. Why is being English
so abhorrent in your son-in-law but not your grandchild?’

‘There is a world of difference!’ He said with frustration. ‘Johnny is a
spoiled, and stupid young man. He is not even enough of a man to stand up to
Collette. My daughter is beautiful and full of fire, she plays with him like a
toy. This child is my flesh! It is
my blood
!’

‘And my blood, and my brother’s blood and my father and mother’s blood.’

‘Of course, of course Madeline.’

‘You aren’t suggesting we live in Italy full-time?’

‘No…’ He laughed a little nervously. ‘No, of course not, only that you
make sure he knows where he comes from, what is his when he is ready to claim
it.’

There was a knock at the door then, clear and insistent. Hearing it
seemed to switch something on in Fabrizio and he gripped me by both shoulders,
harder than I think he intended.

‘Please Madeline, please come back with me, you will not regret it I
promise!’

‘I’m in the garden!’ I shouted out, trying to keep my voice steady. ‘Come
around the back!’ I heard John’s steady tread on the gravel by the side of the
house. Fabrizio’s grip tightened again.

‘You must come back with me! You will have the best, the very best!’

‘Mr Amarena, now what are you doing here?’ John’s sonorous voice made
every particle of me tingle with relief and pleasure.

Fabrizio’s grip loosened and the charismatic smile returned.

‘Detective Nickelby. What a pleasure. I was just offering Madeline some help.’

‘I see, what kind of help?’

‘Help with finding her brother.’

John sauntered up and positioned himself between me and Fabrizio. It took
a lot to resist the temptation to lean against the warm wall of his back. ‘Well
I’m sure she’s very grateful, but if you have any help or information, perhaps
you could offer it to myself and my colleagues first? We don't want to burden
Maddie with any of this in her condition do we?’

‘Of course.’ Fabrizio continued to smile, but his expression had
hardened. ‘I have no new information. I of course also wanted to ask after
my
grandchild.
’

John said nothing. The silence gave Fabrizio no choice but to go. He
fetched his coat from the living room, came back and stood undecided by the
path to the front garden.

‘Think about what I said Madeline.’ He said finally. ‘I am staying at the
Metropole.’

‘I will.’

Finally he turned and left. I felt myself go faint, but didn’t realise
how much until John put his arms around me and half carried me to a patio
chair.

‘Are you OK?’ His eyes penetrated me instantly, pinning me to the seat. I
wanted to grab hold of his face, to kiss him, to take his great hands and rub
them against me, and over me, to open his shirt and feel the warmth of his
chest against my fingers. How could I ever have thought him ordinary? I
wrenched my face away, tired and miserable.

‘Yes, I’m fine.’ I said flatly. ‘He wants me to go to Italy with him to
have the baby. He says he will help me find Dan.’

‘You wouldn’t go with him?! You don’t trust him?!’

‘What do you care?
I can’t go on like this much longer John. I
want to find my brother and get on with my life!’

He got hold of my arms and turned me around, just as Fabrizio had only
minutes earlier. I wondered at how two identical gestures could feel so
different, simply because of the person who was giving them. I looked
reluctantly into his eyes.

‘You mustn’t go Maddie! Promise me that you won’t put yourself at risk
like that! I’m doing everything I can, I swear!’

‘And what if you are? It’s not enough! It’s not bringing my brother
back!’

‘And what if he isn’t coming back, Maddie? Have you thought of that?’

‘Oh God of course I have!’ I sunk my head in my hands and started to cry.
‘It crosses my mind every minute of every fucking day. But I won’t believe it.
I’ve had enough John! I’ve had enough loss and here you are giving me more!’

‘I didn’t mean he
was
dead, but that you need to consider that he
might be –‘

‘And I didn’t mean Dan, I meant you! You’ve taken yourself away too, and
on top of everything else, it’s almost more than I can bear!’

‘You don’t understand!’ He got up and brought his enormous fists up to
his head, the knuckles white with the tension. When he turned around his face
was wild. ‘Don’t you know I’m in agony too? Like you I thought that the
loneliness was finally over? That it disgusts me to do this to you?’

‘Then why?’ I virtually sobbed out the words.

‘Because…’ He gaped with fury and frustration ‘…Now isn’t the time to
tell you, it wouldn’t be right. I’m so sorry Maddie, I wish I could make you
understand!’.

‘Oh God just go! Please go and leave me alone!’ My face sank back into my
hands. I sensed him move towards me, felt the heat of his palm as his hand
hovered above my head – to stroke me? To comfort me?  After a few seconds of
unbearable tension he removed his hand and I heard his steps, regular and
robotic move away across the gravel.

For the first
time he was waiting for me as I arrived in the room, waiting by the edge of the
green-tiled circle, his face expectant and worried. I went up to him, as close
as I dared and knelt by him.

‘What is it sweetheart?’

‘You’re so sad Mummy. I don’t know what to do!’

‘Not all the time. You make me happy. Happier than you’ll ever know.’

‘But everything else. Everything else is making you sad.’

‘I know. But there’s nothing I can do about it.’

‘There is something.’ He looked at me oddly and walked off towards the
nearest window seat and gestured for me to come. I went over and sat next to
him. He turned around then, kneeling up and gazing over the back of the cushion
at the sea. It was steely grey, almost indistinguishable from the sky, the dull
light of it reflected in his eyes.

‘What is it? What is it I could do?’

‘You know really Mum.’

I turned to look out with him and sighed. ‘Yes, there is that. But I’m
scared.’

‘I know and I don’t want you to go Mummy. I’m scared too, but I’ve
thought and thought and I think it’s OK with me.’

‘Going to Italy could mean putting us both at risk! How can you say
it’s OK?’

 He gazed at me steadily, and it was like looking into the eyes of
someone who had lived for hundreds and hundreds of years, not a little boy.
‘Because it’s the only thing that will make you free.’

I nodded and turned to look out at the ocean beyond the window. Sheets
of rain had started to fall, churning up the surface of the sea and making it
boil.

When I woke up
the next morning the first thing I did was call Fabrizio. I had expected to
feel increasing fear and dread now the thing was decided, but I surprised
myself with a new-found sense of purpose. I could tell he was surprised to hear
from me, had expected to have to go through a lot more persuasion, and this
wrong-footed him. I gave him one condition, that I would stay with Nonna and
not him. She was only a 20 minute walk from the vineyard, and I knew I would
feel intolerably vulnerable in Fabrizio’s house (Nonna was Sergio’s maternal
grandmother – a Lazzatti not an Amarena).

I knew my father would be devastated by the news and that if I didn’t
underplay the investigative element of my trip, he would insist on coming with
me. It was such a nice morning that I found him having his breakfast in the
garden. He was absently throwing his toast crumbs to a gaggle of Starlings that
had gathered on the lawn, their feathers iridescent in the early sunshine.

‘Dad, I’ve decided to go to Italy for a few weeks.’

‘What?!’ He started round as he spoke, setting the Starlings off in a
squeaking cloud of black feathers. ‘What on earth for?’

‘I want to see Nonna again before the baby is born. I feel I owe her and
the family. I’ve felt bad about not going to the funeral these last couple of
months, and I’d like to visit Sergio’s grave as well (this part, at least was
true) it’s the right thing to do.’

‘But you’re nearly thirty five weeks pregnant! Should you be travelling
at this time?’

‘If I don’t do it now, I won’t be able to get back in plenty of time for
the birth.’

‘Exactly, why not wait till after? Why not go over then?’

‘Come on Dad, I’ll be completely overwhelmed looking after a baby – it’ll
be the last thing on my mind. The Amarenas can come over here then if they want
to see it.’

‘I just don’t understand – why now?’

‘I said Dad, if I don’t do it now it will be too late to fly back. It’s
just something I’ve got to do, I can’t explain it. It’s like when I had to go
and visit my old Primary school, before I started university. I need some
closure Dad,’ I winced at the word, ‘to say goodbye to Sergio properly, to see
his family.’

‘Come here Maddie and sit down.’ I went over reluctantly. ‘Is this some
mad scheme of yours to try and find Dan? To follow up on this Italian
connection? Are you hoping to find out? The police are looking into it, there’s
nothing more you can do. And I’m his father for God’s sake. If there’s a reason
to look for him in Italy,
I
should be going.’

‘If the police can’t find anything, how on earth am I going to? If they
thought it was a lead worth pursuing further they would be over there by now.’

‘And what if the police find something in Italy, something dangerous.
What then? You’d be trapped over there!’

‘I’m going to stay with Nonna, and I won’t leave Terranima, I’ll be
totally safe.’

‘I don’t like it one bit Maddie. I should come with you.’

‘No Dad, please, this is something I need to do by myself. I need to say
goodbye to Sergio on my own. This child,’ I touched my belly gently, ‘is going
to be half Italian, this is his heritage and he has a right to it. We can’t run
away from it, we need to face up to it from day one, find out what it is and
what it entails.’

‘But why must you do it alone?’

‘Because you’d be much more help to me here.’ I took hold of his elegant
long-fingered hand, so different from my own, and smiled, ‘you could get the
house and the nursery ready.’

He sighed. I knew he was visualising the baby’s room when it was
finished, doing the ‘reveal’ on my return. I knew also he was weighing this up
against his fears. ‘OK Maddie. You’re a thirty-eight year old woman of sound
mind and body and I suppose I have to trust you to know what’s right for you
and the baby. But I have two conditions, or I’m coming with you.’

‘Name them.’

‘I am going to tell that Detective you are going, I want someone in the
police to be forewarned and forearmed if there are any problems.’

My tummy fluttered. ‘Of course Dad.’

‘And I want you to ring me every day. If I don’t hear from you by
seven-o-clock every evening I will be calling Detective Nickelby and telling
him there’s an emergency.’

‘OK’

‘And I mean it Maddie, not in an Enid Blyton adventure way – but in a
serious, grown-up way.’

‘Thanks Dad.’ I found tears were coming into my eyes and quickly hugged
him to hide it. As a child, if I’d had a nightmare, I would get into bed with
my Mum and Dad. The reality of them, the solidity of them felt like a panacea
against all danger and uncertainty. And then you become an adult yourself and
you realise how misplaced that blind trust was. How little a parent can really
protect you from the fickleness of fate, the world’s dangers lurking around
every corner.

I was a protector now, for what it was worth. And yet here I was,
potentially, knowingly, exposing
my
child to danger and uncertainty. How
could I go somewhere, amongst people that may have something to do with the
disappearance of my brother? I didn’t have the answer. All I knew was that
somehow it was the only thing to do. I remembered too, a time when Dan had
found some older boys trying to get some money off me at school. They were
almost twice his size, and as Dan had never had a fight in his life, there was
little chance that he was going to be able to rely on his physical prowess to
get us out unscathed. So he did what he subsequently honed into an unrivalled
talent. He bamboozled and outwitted them. Even now I can remember his exact
words:

‘Now I know you boys are incapacitated and subsumed by a life lived in
the lower echelons of society, and no doubt experience social and economic
deprivation on an illimitable degree, which in itself has led to brute vacuity;
but I wonder if you would be so kind as to disengage my kinswoman, and if so I
shall, on this occasion be able to overlook this regrettable event and….’ But
they were already gone. He said he had got the idea from reading the memoirs of
Quentin Crisp.

Mr Amarena
travelled first-class of course, and although I had managed to avoid travelling
back with him, his influence obviously stretched a long way. When I arrived at
the check-in desk after saying goodbye to my Dad, Nicholas and Abi, the lady
behind the counter said ‘Ah yes, Mr Amarena’s guest’ in a knowing way; and said
I had been upgraded. When I took my seat the steward immediately brought me
over a fresh-fruit smoothie, saying Mr Amarena had arranged it for me. I would
have preferred a glass of wine, or a stiff scotch.

My stomach was full of butterflies, and the baby was obviously absorbing
the anxiety hormones too. He was doing a full-turn inside me in a writhing,
laborious kind of way. Every now and then a foot or elbow would engage with
some deep, unknown pelvic nerve and it took all my self-control not to gasp out
loud. I massaged my tummy gently, and his little limbs came up to meet me and
pressed against my hand.

Being obviously pregnant changes your status. You are no longer an
autonomous being, but public property. Not only are you told what to eat and
drink, but the social reticence of strangers disappears and you are barraged
with smiles and requests to ‘touch your bump.’ At times this is endearing, at
others, you long anonymity again. Anonymity is what I wanted on the plane, to
have time to think about what I was doing, whether or not I had
a plan
.
It wasn’t to be though, and I was either receiving cheesy smiles from fellow
passengers or fending off the obsequious attention of the cabin crew.

When we landed, I wasn’t surprised to find there was a car waiting for me
at the airport. The driver told me he was to take me to the main house, I
agreed, but arranged for him to take my bags directly to Nonna’s after dropping
me off.

I was completely
unprepared for how it would make me feel to see the estate again. My heart
pressed against my chest as the gentle, scored slopes of the vineyard came into
view. The brand new leaves of the vines showed bright green against the brick
red soil and I saw, with a brief swell of satisfaction, that the guest-house
garden, that I had tended and planted nearly a year before, was lush and
thriving.

I had only been in the main house once in the Summer of the previous
year, to pick up some money and instructions when Mr Amarena had been away. I
had forgotten how imposing it was. It must have been a couple of hundred years
old, and the beautiful old brick of the façade, the colour of baked bread, was
draped here and there with waves of glossy ivy. It was Rosa Amarena who came
out to meet me. She was even more glamorous than I remembered, and not a hair
of her glossy black head was out of place. She made me feel hot and fat.

‘My dear, how well you look!’

I smiled thinly. ‘Thank you Rosa. You look very well too.’

‘Ah.’ She shrugged as if she hadn’t the least concern over her
appearance. I knew from Sergio however, that it took her at least two hours to
get ready every morning, and she had a coterie of beauty professionals that
called on her every few days. ‘You must come in out of the sun straight away. I
have made some fresh lemonade. Roberto please take Miss Armstrong's things to
the second-floor guest room.’

‘No!’ I hadn’t meant to say it so fiercely, Rosa’s jaw dropped slightly.
I smiled and said more calmly in Italian, ‘No Roberto, please take my bags to
Nonna Lazzatti’s as we arranged.’ Roberto stood still, perplexed.

‘But my dear, you can’t possibly mean to stay in my mother’s old place?
In your condition you should be with us.’

‘Thank you Rosa, you are very kind. But Nonna is expecting me and I shall
be very comfortable there.’ I nodded assertively at Roberto and he finally put
my bags back in the car. ‘And please come and pick me up from here in about an
hour so I can get back and unpack.’ He nodded mutely, shot Rosa a look which
she returned with another shrug, then drove off up the track launching a cloud
of red dust in the air behind him. I smiled at Rosa and headed towards the
entrance. She looked down at my tummy, straining against my loose white dress,
smiled and followed me into the quarry-tiled coolness of the hall.

‘Collette and Johnny can’t wait to see you Maddie. They are very excited
about their little nephew!’

‘So Fabrizio told you it’s a boy?’

‘Of course! We share everything.’ That was something I very much
doubted.  ‘Ah, here we are!’ She ushered me into the dining room – an elegant
well-proportioned room spoiled by ostentatious marble and glass furniture.
Collette swooshed up to me in a cloud of Armani perfume and embraced me in a
rather overwrought way, Johnny smiled toothily and then turned back to his
newspaper.

‘It is so wonderful you have come!’ Collette gushed. ‘May I?’ She
gestured to my tummy.

‘Go ahead.’ She laid her hand on me lightly then shrieked.

‘I felt him kick!’ I knew she hadn’t. Did she think I wouldn’t know? I
bit my lip and went to sit down next to Johnny. ‘Mama’s prepared some supper.
It’s just on its way. I can’t tell you how excited we were when Papa told us
you were coming!’ She turned away and busied herself pouring out lemonade from
a jug on the sideboard. ‘Ever since poor Sergio died we have thought often
about the baby.’ She turned back round. ‘It’s like a gift from God, a little
bit of him preserved before he was lost.’

I was relieved
to have left the Amarena’s before Fabrizio returned, and the feeling deepened
as the car drew up the flagged drive to Nonna’s house. It was built in a stone
the same colour as the red soil, creating the impression that it had erupted
fully formed out of the earth. This gave it a look of great solidity and a
slight air of enchantment. The emergence of Nonna from the front door did
little to dispel this impression, in her headscarf and long dark cotton dress
she looked like some kindly old troll wife out of a fairy story. Only the white
cable of iPod headphones sticking out of the top of her apron pocket reminded
me that I hadn't stepped back in time.

As soon as she held me, and her little head, warm and strangely scented,
nestled under my chin, I started to cry. I clung to her tightly and sobbed and
sobbed. Despite her age, she felt firm and strong. Her hand moved rhythmically,
comfortingly against the small of my back. Gently, she pushed me back and
cupped my face in her hands. Her palms were rough and warm like the tongue of a
cat.

‘
Tsoro
, it is so good to see you!’

‘And you Nonna. You don’t know how good. I do miss him you know, so
much.’

She rested her left hand on my shoulder and her right hand went down and
rested on the taut skin of my belly. As she did so I felt the baby push towards
the heat of her, distending my belly. I gasped and she laughed and looked up at
me, her eyes twinkling. ‘He is good and strong! You have done well, you have
protected and nourished the boy.’

I remembered what she had said to me the first time we met. ‘Last
Summer,’ I said a little breathlessly, ‘when I came to visit you with Sergio
for the first time, you said
‘He is a wise boy.’
I thought you meant
Sergio, but you didn’t did you? You meant the baby. You knew I was pregnant.’

She smiled at me and stroked my cheek. ‘Come in the house Maddie. There
are things I must tell you.’

The kitchen was cool and her scent was explained by a pile of round
oregano and olive breads steaming gently on the rough wooden table. She pulled
out an old rocking chair for me and put a small coffee pot on the stove. She
seemed about to sit down, but then smiled mischievously and pointed up in the
air with a little gasp. ‘I nearly forgot
Tsoro
! My latest gadget, I
bought it from the ebay!’ She jumped up, and slotted her white and brushed
steel iPod into a space-age looking implement the shape of a giant bullet.
Immediately the kitchen was filled with old Italian folk music – a woman
singing along to a high-pitched string instrument like a mandolin. Nonna
started to sing with her, her voice reedy but tone perfect. She poured the
coffee and moved her feet nimbly back and forth as the song speeded up. I
started to feel a little woozy, there was something soporific about the
combined smells, of warmth, herbs and coffee; the undulating singing and the
sound of nonna’s slippered feet passing back and forth across the sandy
flag-stoned floor. I must have drifted off for a moment. I was roused by Nonna
waving a cup of sweet coffee under my nose.