Page 27 of Livia in Rome
I go still, as if I’ve stumbled across a wild creature and don’t want to scare it away. It’s the first time Giulio’s brought up his parents without Ma asking about them.
‘Sometimes I wonder if it’s because Papà is from the north, and Mamma’s from the south,’ Giulio says, his voice thoughtful.
I raise an eyebrow. ‘I thought your mum was from Rome?’
He rolls his eyes. ‘Anything below Florence is the south for Papà.’
I can’t help but laugh a little at that, some of the tension dissolving. A north–south divide...I hadn’t considered it before. But before I can think any more about it, Giulio points at the letters in my hands and says, ‘Allora...what do we do now?’
‘I need to tell Ma about the debts...’
He frowns, opening his mouth like he’s about to protest.
‘But I want to speak to Signora Pedretti first,’ I finish. ‘You’ve seen what Ma and Nina are like. There’sso much tension. Ma’s not even going to lunch any more, and now these letters. There’s something bigger here. So I was thinking...’ I hurry on. ‘Maybe you could distract Ma the next time Signora Pedretti’s in, and I could talk to her...see if she’ll open up? She obviously knows something, and spying’s getting us nowhere.’
Giulio nods. I start to move away, then the opening notes to a classic Italian power ballad drift up over the rooftops, one I recognize from Pa’s favourite Spotify list.
‘Vasco Rossi,’ I say with a small smile.
Giulio looks at me in surprise. ‘This song is famous in Scotland?’
I laugh. ‘Err, no. Definitely not. But my dad loves this track. He plays it a lot.’
I peer over the balustrade, aware of Giulio’s gaze lingering on my profile for a long moment before he looks too. We can’t actually see the fountain or who is playing the music, but we stand there until the song is finished, half-singing, heads nodding, in the moment. Together.
After three hours of Italian weather vocabulary, when the only word we’re likely to use isrovente –scorching! – I’m more convinced than ever that Kenzi’s language swap is the way to go if I’m ever going to pass for one of the locals.
And it’s an added bonus that Signora Pedretti is already perched on her usual stool when we arrive at the bar. Predictably, however, Ma’s right in front of her, getting in the way as usual.
I sense Giulio trying to catch my eye and we fall into our usual silent communication.
He wiggles an eyebrow and tilts his head in Ma’s direction –need a distraction?
I nod, then second-guess our telepathic powers when, instead of heading for Ma, he disappears outside. But then, moments later, he reappears in the doorway. ‘Caterina...the sun umbrella’s broken...looks like the pin’s come out. Can you give me a hand?’
Ma frowns. ‘Com’è possible?How did that happen?’
Giulio shrugs, but when Ma walks past him, he looks towards me for a split second, eyebrows rising a tiny fraction. I suppress a smile; he must have sabotaged it on purpose.
While everyone else is distracted by Ren’s new fusion delicacy – a Frenchcroque monsieurmade with Italian ciabatta bread that has Sofia whipping her phone out to snap photos – I slip behind the counter and stand opposite Signora Pedretti, my mind racing for a way to interrogate her over Ma and Nina’s relationship as I uncap some fizzy soft drinks for us.
‘So...do you visit Nina often? I’ve never seen you at the hospital before.’ I dive straight in.
Signora Pedretti looks guarded but answers. ‘Not often, no.’
I sigh. ‘More than Ma, I bet. I really wish they hadn’t fallen out so badly.’
Signora Pedretti takes a slow sip of her drink. ‘You know about that?’
‘How could I not? It’s like they’re opponents in a boxing ring, only they’re throwing insults instead of punches. I mean, we’ve stayed away for ten years. I can’t imagine that happening to me and Ma, but...’
I can’t finish the sentence. I might have engineered this conversation, but that doesn’t make the loss any less real...the ache any less painful.
Signora Pedretti’s face softens. ‘There was a misunderstanding,cara. Although your nonna considers it more...a betrayal.’
‘A betrayal?’ I echo, not liking the sound of the word at all. ‘Why? Because Ma moved to Scotland?’
She tilts her head as if she’s considering it. ‘Partly, yes, I believe so. Adelina is deeply rooted in this city. She was still a young woman when your nonno died, and Caterina is her only daughter. But there is more to it than that...’
