Page 34 of Far from Home
Local radio was already listing a series of disasters ranging from the bank in the square being flooded to bridges washed away, and even some poor soul drowned in a swollen river. Looking out of the window as it was starting to get dark, Amy was quite shocked to see a roaring torrent running down from the vineyards, just past the end of her garden. Fortunately, however, l’Ospedaletto was safely out of its way.
The storm blew itself out in the course of Friday night and she awoke on Saturday morning to find it was another lovely day. Putting on her trainers she set off up the hill with Max and they were both soon very muddy. Max kept disappearing into the vines and reappearing two-tone: black on top and a milky chocolate brown on his lower half. Although she stuck to the tracks, the clay built up underneath her shoes, making it slippery underfoot. After all the rain, the sky was a clear blue and she could see for miles and miles, northwards to the Apennines and, for the very first time, she thought she could even just about make out the shadowy outline of what might have been Monte Amiata, far to the south. The dog got himself into a real muddy state and Amy decided that, much as he might hate it, before she gave him back to Signora Grande, today was going to be bath-time for Max.
She reached the shed where she often stopped for a rest, but the plank that served as a seat was still sodden after the downpour. Instead, she stayed on her feet and leant back cautiously against the rickety wall, watching the vines shake as the dog trawled through them looking for game. Although Labradors are retrievers, Signora Grande had told her that Max had never received any training as a gun dog, but there was obviously enough of the instinct in his DNA to make him never tire of chasing anything he came across. That morning the only other animal he came across was his friend Coco. As the two came rushing out through the vines together, Amy spotted Rosa climbing up towards her. She gave her a wave and glanced down at the dogs.
‘Ciao, Coco, how come you’re looking so clean while Max looks like a choc ice?’
‘Give her time.’ Rosa reached the top behind her dog and mopped her brow. ‘She’ll probably roll in the mud before long. Whew, it’s hot again. It was so nice to have a cool day yesterday for a change. How’s the building work coming along?’
She came and rested her back against the wall of the shed. Amy waited anxiously but, although it creaked, it didn’t give way. Both of them could feel the warmth of the morning sun on the timber behind them as Amy answered. ‘Another few days and all the building work should be over. They’ve worked their socks off. They’ve been fabulous.’
‘And the lovely Signor Pozzovivo?’
‘Lorenzo’s a sweetie. He doesn’t talk a lot, but then, he doesn’t need to, does he? Actions speak louder than words and all that.’
‘Lorenzo, eh? First-name terms with our local sex idol, eh?’
‘I’m on first-name terms with the plumber and the electrician as well, so don’t read too much into it. Besides, Lorenzo was showing me pictures of his two little kids the other day. I rather think he’s already taken. Thanks again for lunch the other day. It was super and I really enjoyed meeting your friends. I got on really well with the lady sitting beside me, Domenica. She told me she knew Martin Slater – my father, but it still sounds weird to me to call him that – and it’s clear she liked him as well.’
‘Everybody liked Martin. Mind you, come to think of it, Domenica probably knew and liked him more than most.’
‘You think she and he might have been…?’
‘More than friends? Yes, I suppose they might have been. I saw them together quite a few times but, like I told you before, I don’t think there was ever anybody really special in his life – apart, maybe, from your mother. Feel like telling me what really happened when you were born? How come he and your mum never married? But please don’t feel you have to tell me anything. It’s none of my business.’
Amy smiled at her. ‘There’s not much to tell, really.’ She gave Rosa a brief outline of what she had learnt and read sympathy in the other woman’s eyes – for her, but also for her mother and father.
‘Don’t be too hard on your mother. We all do things we regret. I can imagine the impact losing her husband must have had on her life and I can understand the guilt she must have felt. Poor thing, so alone. And poor Martin, cut off from the woman he loved and the child he never knew.’ She reached across and caught hold of Amy’s hand. ‘But at least it’s all out in the open now and you know the truth.’
By tacit agreement they changed the subject back to the ever-safe topic of the weather. Rosa pointed down the hill towards l’Ospedaletto.
‘I hope you didn’t have any flooding as a result of yesterday’s rain?’
Amy was glad to return to something more mundane. ‘No, not a drop. What about you?’
Rosa shook her head. ‘Nothing, I’m pleased to say, but you maybe heard about the bank. Pity they didn’t pump some money out of it while they were at it. I heard on the local news that a number of lower-lying places were flooded when the river burst its banks. The weather’s all extremes over here, I’m afraid.’
Amy spent Saturday morning doing her best to tidy the house. She knew it was pretty pointless as the builders would be back on Monday, but she was spurred into it after washing the dog. In the absence of a bath for him, she used several buckets of warm water and a soft brush out on the gravel drive in front of the house. The dog stood shivering miserably throughout the whole procedure, and only cheered up when she finished. She had a feeling that his first instinct after a bath would be to shake himself thoroughly and then run off and roll in the grass. Seeing as her garden was currently an overgrown, muddy mess, she did her best to wipe him dry before shepherding him into the house. As a result, the house soon smelt of damp dog and his wet paws spread the builders’ dust all over the living room.
After drying Max as best she could, Amy bit the bullet, picked up the mop, and washed the terracotta floor from front to back. She threw the windows open to allow fresh air to come in and change the atmosphere and finally, by lunchtime, the house as well as the dog looked and smelt clean once more and she was able to deliver him back to Signora Grande in pristine condition.
That evening she finally found the courage to openFar From Homeand start reading. She only read for an hour before the tears in her eyes forced her to abandon it for the night. The story was almost autobiographical – an illicit affair, an unwanted pregnancy and what looked like being a lifetime of regret as a result. It was beautifully written and what struck her forcibly was that he had chosen to write it through the eyes of the child, now an adult, gradually discovering the truth. Most poignant of all was the dedication:
To Amy, with all my love.
She had just got up to pour herself a glass of wine when she heard knocking at the door. This was the first time she had had a visitor after dark and she was thankful for the electrician’s suggestion that he install a security light outside. She glanced through the shutters and saw that her visitor was Danny and she hurried to open the door to him.
‘Hi, Danny, come in. I was just pouring myself a glass of wine. Want to join me?’
He shook his head. ‘Thanks, Amy, but I have to scoot. We’ve only just got back from Florence and Pierpaolo’s making a risotto and he’ll murder me if I’m late. I just came to tell you not to worry.’
Amy was momentarily stumped. ‘About what?’
‘About Adam… or didn’t you hear that he’s disappeared?’
Amy felt an icy cold stab in her stomach. ‘What do you mean, “disappeared”? I hadn’t heard.’
‘It was on the news. We heard it in the car. He and his crew were filming in the Amazon rainforest and they’ve gone missing. They should have got back to their base camp on Wednesday night but there’s been no sign of them. People are saying they might have been killed by armed guards protecting illegal timber operations or kidnapped by a remote tribe, but I came to tell you that I’m not worried. He’s been in worse scrapes than this and he always gets out. I just wanted you to know.’
