Page 42 of Livia in Rome
Right. That’s it. I am fed up of secrets.
‘What do you mean this time?’ I burst out. ‘We should be working together...but how can we, when none of us has the full picture? What’s going on?’ My trainers squeak on the tiled floor as I swivel to face Ma. ‘And how do you know Bertolli?’
Nina lifts her chin, her piercing gaze never leaving Ma. ‘Go on, Caterina. Tell her.’
Ma slumps on to the plastic visitor’s chair, her legs sticking out in front of her like a doll’s. ‘Ten years ago...I looked into selling the bar.’
Giulio and I gasp. The bar is everything to Nina. It’s all she talks about. It’s her way of life, not just a job...and now, having worked there, I understand it in a way I never could before. It’s family, it’s history, it’s identity...it’s our piece of Rome.
What was Ma thinking?
‘Oh, it was a bit more than that, Caterina,’ Nina says coldly. ‘You and Bertolli had the contract all ready for me to sign.’
I think of the slimy way Bertolli prowled around the bar at the language swap. He doesn’t just want the Vespa. He wants the whole thing.
‘The bar was in bad shape,’ Ma protests. ‘You have to adm—’
‘You meanIwas in bad shape,’ Nina cuts her off. ‘Just because I’d reached retirement age. That’s whathurt me the most, Caterina.’
‘That’s not true, Mamma.’ Ma clutches her forehead, as if to stop the memories resurfacing. ‘I didn’t know what else to do. The bar was struggling. I’d moved away to Scotland, but I felt guilty every single day for leaving. And then Bertolli – he made it sound like you would still manage it, that he just wanted to turn it around.’
Nina doesn’t speak when Ma pauses for breath, but her stillness and the fact she’s not interrupting like she usually does gives Ma that extra bit of courage to carry on.
‘I’ve been trying to tell you I was wrong for years. I thought I was doing it for you...but the truth is I wanted you with me. I thought if you weren’t so tied up with the bar, you could spend time with us...in Scotland.’ Ma’s voice cracks then, and I see into it, to the pain of the past, how much she’s missed having Nina in her life.
Nina doesn’t look up, but there’s a shift – a softening in her tough exterior. ‘Well, Caterina...if Bertolli is serious about repossessing the bar...that may well happen.’
‘But we have to stop him!’ I look at the faces around me, each one tense and strained. ‘We can’t let him win. Not when the bar’s doing so well. Youshould see it, Nina. We’ve started up a language swap and it’s really taken off.’
Nina’s eyes find mine. ‘And my customers? Bringing in new people is one thing, but are they scaring away the regulars? Are these changes pushing out the people who’ve kept this place alive for years?’
The chill in her voice makes me hesitate, but I push through. ‘We didn’t set out to change too much. But I really think it’s been helping.’
‘They are enjoying it. Enrico has been in every evening, too, not just for breakfast.’ Giulio’s fingers brush the back of my hand and I don’t think it’s accidental. He’s letting me know he’s there...for me. A few weeks ago, he might’ve agreed with Nina, that I didn’t understand the bar or its history. But now...now he’s on my side. We’re a team.
Nina’s expression softens slightly, but the protectiveness is still there. ‘I appreciate the effort, Livia. I do. But don’t forget what the bar means, and who it’s meant for. I don’t want it turning into a fancy drinks venue that doesn’t value loyal customers. And if Bertolli gets his hands on it, that’s exactly what it will become.’
Ma leaves to consult an old lawyer friend to see if there are any legal loopholes we can grab on to, so Giulio and I head back alone. Only instead of taking the usual route to the bar, he parks the Vespa along the riverside instead.
‘Vieni!’He slides off the saddle and beckons for me to do the same. ‘We still have an hour to kill before reopening, no point sitting about worrying until Caterina gets back.’
I blink, caught off guard. ‘You want to go somewhere . . . now?’
‘Got any better ideas?’ He does that loose Italian shrug I can never quite pull off.
Yes, but Giulio has SHOULDERS– I actually hear the capitals in Inner Isla’s voice.
I walk beside him through the narrow streets – because I’m curious, not because he has great shoulders – until we spill out into Piazza Navona. I recognize it instantly – from the postcards on the revolving stands outside the tourist shops, and thehuge poster on the wall of the language school classroom. But seeing it in real life still takes my breath away – the huge fountains drawing people to them like magnets, the beautiful buildings hugging the perimeter. There are street artists and performers, market stalls and music. There’s something about the atmosphere too, like I’ve been here before, but not only as a six-year-old child.
My stomach churns. Will we ever come back to Rome if we lose the bar? And would we stay in a hotel like we’re visitors just passing through...or with Nina in some unfamiliar suburb? And what about Giulio? He’d be losing more than a job. He’d lose everything that grounds him; the stability Nina has given him over the years.
He tugs the end of my ponytail, pulling my attention back to the beautiful piazza. ‘You OK?’
‘Sì, just...thinking.’ I fidget with the strap of my tank top and he slips an arm around my shoulders, tucking me into his side.
My ability to coordinate my feet goes wonky and we bump hips awkwardly for a few steps. I think we’re heading for the main attraction – the Fountain of the Four Rivers – with its muscly statues representing different continents. I mean, this thing even has an obelisk sticking out of it. But Giulio steers us down aside street instead. A few turns later, we stop in front of...a broken statue? I eye the crumbling torso and its vague face – my brain sifting through all the Roman trivia Ma’s spouted over the years. And come up blank.
Giulio bows. ‘Livia, meet Pasquino. Pasquino,ti presento, Livia.’
