Page 37 of Far from Home
‘So, when does Price Charming arrive back home?’ Amy had called her the previous day on the way home from Danny’s studio to give her the big news about Adam.
‘I’m not sure, but very soon.’
‘Well, don’t you forget what I told you to do. Think rabbits, Amy.’
‘I’ve got enough trouble with snakes in my cellar, thank you.’
‘Is that a metaphor?’
‘Luce, please!’
‘Well, promise me you’ll at least try to wear something appealing.’
Amy knew full well what sort of clothing Lucy had in mind. ‘I’ll wear something nice, I promise, but I don’t intend throwing myself at the poor man.’
‘You’ve only got another week over there. You can’t afford to waste time.’
Next day, Signora Grande told her that she was once more going to see her sister and Amy was delighted to look after Max all day. She bundled him into the car and they spent the morning walking in the woods. While he ran happily about, chasing after the sticks and pine cones she threw for him, she tried looking for mushrooms. After a lot of searching, to her surprise and delight she actually found some. In a little glade among sweet chestnut and oak trees, she came upon a little family of porcini. Daddy porcino was the height of a tumbler with a beautiful brown cap, sponge beneath, and a blemishless cream-coloured base. The other two were carbon copies, just a little smaller. She squeezed them into a plastic bag and returned to the car in triumph.
She spent the afternoon cleaning the house while Max snored on an old rug by the empty fireplace. That evening, after taking him for another walk in the vineyard, Amy was checking her laptop for recipes involving porcini mushrooms and wondering whether it might be prudent to get the view of an expert before possibly poisoning herself, when there was a knock at the door. Max raised his head but clearly couldn’t be bothered to make the effort to get up and see who it was. So much for him as a guard dog. Amy opened the door and got a surprise. It was Domenica, not accompanied by her surly son.
‘Ciao, Domenica. How nice to see you again. Do come in.’
‘Ciao, Amy. I hope I’m not disturbing you.’ She sounded very hesitant and Amy was quick to reassure her.
‘Not in the slightest. Come on in. Would you like a glass of wine, or a cup of tea, coffee?’
Domenica shook her head. ‘I don’t want to take up too much of your time.’
She was still looking and sounding very uncertain so Amy ushered her in and pointed to the sofa. ‘I’ve got bags of time. Come and have a seat.’
Domenica was more casually dressed than the previous night at the restaurant, but still very elegant. There was no doubt about it, she was a very good-looking woman. Had she and her father been an item? Amy’s suspicions deepened. Although, she reminded herself as she hung the coat by the door, it was no business of hers whether her father had had a relationship with any woman. When she returned to the sofa, she saw Domenica stroking Max distractedly with one hand while she stared around in wonder. She looked back at Amy as she took a seat beside her.
‘Wow, you’ve done so much.’ She gave a little smile. ‘And I’m delighted to see you’ve put in radiators. I almost froze to death in here on many an occasion. Martin’s internal thermostat was at a different setting from the rest of us.’
Amy smiled back. ‘I’d already worked that out. This place must have been like a fridge in winter. I’m not sure even Max would have liked it.’ She poked the dog gently with her foot and glanced down at him. ‘Now lie down and leave Domenica alone.’ She was pleasantly surprised to see him do just that. As she returned her attention to her guest, she could see that she had something on her mind.
‘Um, Amy, I’ve been putting off coming to see you but I can’t put it off any longer. We need to talk, you see.’ Amy saw her take a deep breath. ‘It’s about Martin and me…’
Her voice tailed off miserably and for a moment Amy thought she might be about to cry, so she decided to give her a hand. ‘Were you and he close?’
Domenica looked up in surprise. ‘Yes, but how did you know?’
Amy gave her a gentle smile, deciding not to name her sources. ‘I guessed.’
Domenica looked up, straight into Amy’s eyes. ‘I loved him, Amy. I loved him so very dearly.’ And this time she did start crying.
Amy wasn’t sure what to do so she jumped to her feet and went along to the kitchen where she dug out a bottle of Signor Montalcino’s lovely red wine and two glasses. When she returned to the sofa, Domenica was wiping her eyes with a tissue while Max sat to attention at her feet, looking worried. Amy filled two glass and pressed one of them into Domenica’s hand.
‘Here, have a drop of this.’
Domenica took a mouthful as instructed and then gradually resumed her story. As it unfolded, Amy listened in rapt amazement.
‘I met Martin, your father, twenty-four years ago now. I suppose it was love at first sight – at least as far as I was concerned. We became close, very close.’ She paused for another sip of wine. ‘And then I got pregnant. I had a son, Rolando. You met him last night…’ Her voice tailed off again and Amy jumped in to help out.
‘But you and my father didn’t marry?’
Domenica shook her head and blew her nose, but when she replied, it was in a stronger voice. ‘No, Martin didn’t want to.’
