Torn

by Karen Moore

  “Hi, you must be Rhys,” she said, offering her hand. “I’m Hanna and my daughter Eva’s in the back asleep. Great to meet you at last! I’m really grateful for all the help you’re giving us. We’re really putting you to a lot of trouble.”

  Rhys shook her hand warmly. “Hi, Hanna. Nice to meet you, too. It’s no trouble – just glad I can help out. Did the journey go okay? You must be tired and hungry. Let’s get you both to your new home. You can leave the car here and we’ll arrange for the rental company to pick it up tomorrow. Let me help you with your stuff.”

  He quickly transferred the luggage and the car seat containing the still sleeping Eva into the Land Rover, and they set off on the last leg of their journey. As Hanna relaxed in the passenger seat, tiredness hit her, and she was grateful that she didn’t have to drive any further. The roads were becoming narrow and tortuous as they climbed out of the town into the hills in the fading light. Storm clouds were gathering on the horizon, dark and threatening. The temperature was dropping, and Hanna reached over to the dashboard and turned up the heater.

  She studied Rhys’s profile in the fading light, comparing it to the photos of the brother that Ceri often talked about. She couldn’t ever remember him coming out to see his sister, but it was clear that they remained close despite the distance that separated them. With rugged features and a wild mop of thick, dark hair that bounced in rhythm with each bump in the road, he exuded an air of quiet self-confidence, a self-absorbed man happy in his own company. He wore a thick fleece bearing the logo of Snowdonia National Park.

  Turning towards her, Rhys looked at Hanna expectantly, unaware of her scrutiny.

  “Sorry, did you say something?” she asked. “I was lost in my thoughts. Must be tired. It’s a while since I got a proper night’s sleep.”

  “No problem.” He smiled. “You’ve been through a lot. Nearly there now. See those lights over to the right? That’s us.”

  Hanna could make out a few faint lights glimmering against the dark shadow of the hill looming up ahead.

  “The cottage is pretty much ready. We’ll get your stuff in and have something to eat. Then I’ll leave you to get settled in. We can talk more tomorrow about where we go from here.”

  She felt relieved that he seemed to understand without her having to go into lengthy explanations. They continued to wend their way through the hills towards the flickering lights in the distance. As they drew nearer, Hanna could see that the lights were more dispersed than she’d first thought and were coming from a small number of buildings some way away from each other.

  “This little hamlet is called Heulog, which means sunny in Welsh. It was named by the New Age travellers who settled near here, but they preferred their tents to the cottages. There’s still the odd one living round here but the cottages are owned by the National Park now and are let out to artists or holidaymakers looking to get away from it all. I thought it’d be ideal for you, but we’ll need to get you some transport otherwise you’ll be stuck,” said Rhys.

  “But you’re not completely isolated,” he added quickly, seeing Hanna’s crestfallen expression. “You do have a couple of neighbours who live here all year round. You’ll meet them soon.”

  He pulled up with a jolt outside a solid stone cottage that must have stood there for centuries. Eva woke with a start and stared at the stranger in the front seat. Hanna quickly explained that Rhys was Mummy’s new friend and was giving them a lift to their new home.

  A stiff breeze greeted them as they got out of the Land Rover, whipping up the newly fallen leaves. Hanna shivered. She wasn’t used to the cold and was dreading the wet. Both the climate and the landscape felt alien, so different to their previous life. But at least they were safe for the time being.

  Rhys unlocked the front door and showed them inside. In the lounge, a fire blazed in a wood burning stove, warming the damp air and welcoming its new residents. Two over-stuffed cranberry sofas faced the fire, an enormous shaggy rug covered the stone floor, and pretty floral curtains in tones of cranberry, pistachio, and cream adorned the windows, matching the cushions on the sofa. The décor was simple but tasteful, giving the cottage a cosy and comfortable feel. Hanna looked around appreciatively.

  “What do you think? I had a bit of help in making it more homely,” said Rhys. “It was pretty basic before.”

  Hanna smiled. “It’s lovely. You’ve done a good job. I’m sure we’ll be happy here, won’t we, Eva?”

  Eva’s eyes widened in surprise – she had never seen a country cottage quite like this before – and muttered, “Una favola!”

  “What’s that?” asked Rhys.

  “It’s Italian for fairy tale – take that as a compliment!” Hanna replied.

  “Okay, will do,” he laughed. “I’ll give you the guided tour of the rest of the place in a minute. Just let me put this casserole in the oven first to heat up. Then I’ll get your luggage in before the rain starts.”

  “You seem to have thought of everything!” Hanna smiled. “The casserole will go down a treat. It seems ages since we had lunch. I could eat a horse!”

  “Well, we don’t eat horse in these parts,” joked Rhys. “I know they do in some parts of Europe. But you’ll find our lamb and beef none too shabby. The casserole is chicken. You do eat meat, I hope?” he asked, almost as an afterthought.

  Hanna reassured him that she did. After disappearing into the kitchen for a few minutes, he emerged with an open bottle of wine, a carton of apple juice, and three glasses. “Only got red, I’m afraid. Will that do?”

  Hanna gratefully accepted a glass of wine and gave some juice to Eva. But her small daughter had other things on her mind. Tugging Hanna’s arm, she tried to propel her out of the lounge, saying, “Where’s my room, Mummy? I want to see my room. Now!”

  Hanna laughed. “We better do the tour straight away before this young lady has a tantrum!”

  Rhys smiled. “Right you are. First stop, little Miss Eva’s room!”

  Chapter Six

  Sicily, Wednesday 9th October, 2013

  Hanna’s mobile rang as the tour bus was pulling into a service station on the motorway between Rome and Naples.

  “Ciao, amore. It’s Luciano. I’ve arranged the meeting with Rosalia.”

  “Sorry, can’t talk right now. Call me back in ten minutes,” she answered. Luciano rang off with a cheery ‘No problem, will do.’

  Hanna had picked up a new group at the airport that morning. She knew from experience that if she didn’t explain the system of paying first at the cash till before ordering at the counter, they’d end up in a muddle and the stop would take forever. She’d just finished and was about to get herself a coffee when Luciano called back.

  “Rosalia’s agreed to meet you on Friday morning at ten at the language school in Palermo. I thought that’d be okay as your group’s usually on their city tour then, aren’t they?” he said. “That way, we can avoid making the long drive from Giardini Naxos.”

  Giardini Naxos was the resort on the east coast of the island, the only place where Hanna stayed several nights and had some free time. Otherwise, the tour was a packed itinerary of overnight stays, with long days of early departures and late arrivals.

  “That’s perfect, thanks so much,” she answered, feeling a little frisson of joy. He was obviously serious about making plans for her to stay at the end of the season.

  “Oh, and she may even be interested in taking on your friend Ceri if she wants to stay, too. The school’s just landed a new contract with one of the local ferry companies and a major research centre based in the outskirts of town. The principal is looking for native speakers for conversation classes. Apparently, being English is enough – you don’t need any teaching experience.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll let Ceri know. She might be interested, particularly as things seem to be getting serious with her new man, Sergio.”

  “You’ll have to sort out the hours and salary directly with her. Sorry, I’ll have to go. I’
m needed on the other line. Can’t wait to see you at the weekend.”

  “Me too, amore. See you then. Speak soon.”

  A warm sensation spread across her stomach. Now all she needed was for the meeting with Rosalia to go well.

  Hanna found the school easily enough. It was set back from the coast in an elegant old building in a quiet side street, with intricate wrought iron balconies. A small number of rooms clustered round an inner courtyard crammed with gigantic terracotta pots brimming over with scarlet geraniums and enormous white daisies with bright yellow centres, bees humming as they hovered round them in the sunlight.

  Rosalia, the owner of the school, greeted her effusively and led the way to a first-floor office where a tray of coffee and freshly-baked cannoli, the sweet ricotta-filled pastries that were a local speciality, awaited them.

  “Prego, signorina, make yourself at home,” said Rosalia, sinking into one of the white leather sofas carefully positioned around a glass and steel coffee table to secure a view of the sea.

  Hanna took a seat on the sofa facing the principal, and accepted a cup of freshly-brewed coffee and one of the rich pastries. The hospitality gave her an opportunity to weigh up her potential new boss. Rosalia was a short, self-assured woman in her forties, with dyed blonde, shoulder-length hair that had been expertly styled. Her skin was the colour of a pecan nut and her face was heavily made up despite the heat. She wore a deep orange linen trouser suit that must have cost a fortune, with a white camisole that showed off her ample breasts. Heavy silver jewellery completed the look.

  Rosalia surveyed Hanna, looking her up and down, before nodding slightly as if she’d just passed some unknown test. She conducted the meeting in expert English, marred only by a thick accent which sometimes masked her words. Hanna had long ago learnt that there was a certain ritual to doing business in Italy that required an exchange of personal niceties. Cutting to the chase would be considered disrespectful, even offensive. She played along until Rosalia was ready to talk shop.

  “You see, cara,” Rosalia said, smiling and gesticulating wildly with her arms, “you two young ladies will be my trump card. It would be quite a coup for my little language school to have native speakers of English, particularly with your background in tourism. That would be ideal for the new contract with the ferry company. My clients are corporate businesspeople who need to be able to speak excellent conversational English. Do you have any experience of teaching English as a foreign language?”

  Hanna’s only teaching experience was from her days as a language student when she had spent her vacations working abroad, but nothing like this. She wondered whether she was up to the task of teaching businesspeople and researchers. The prospect seemed more than a little daunting.

  “I’ve done some, but only informally with schoolchildren,” she answered. “Nothing as demanding as businesspeople. Luciano gave me to understand that you weren’t looking for teaching experience.”

  As if sensing Hanna’s uncertainty, Rosalia responded quickly. “It’s not essential but it would obviously be useful. We use a structured course for beginners and intermediates to take them through the fundamentals of the grammar, but it’s the application and colloquial English that’s missing. That’s where you and Ceri come in – you can help to develop and deliver the conversational classes. Do you think that you’ll be able to handle that?”

  Hanna gulped nervously and felt her face flush. She felt unsure but was desperate to stay on the island for the winter and didn’t want to let Luciano down. It would be so different to anything she’d done before, but it was worth a try. She would make a go of it somehow.

  “To start off with, I could probably offer you 3-4 days’ work a week,” continued Rosalia. “I think you’ll find the salary more than adequate…”

  She quoted a figure that was much more than Hanna was expecting. Could teaching English as a foreign language be so lucrative, even without experience? she wondered.

  “What do you think, and how soon can you start?” The conversation lapsed back into Italian.

  “That sounds fine, but I’d need to check with Ceri first, of course,” Hanna replied, conscious that Rosalia seemed to have made up her mind. “We should both be available by the end of October. I would imagine you’ll want to meet Ceri, too, before we start?”

  “Don’t worry, any friend of Luciano’s…” Rosalia let the phrase hang mid-sentence. “That would suit me perfectly. Please get back to me and confirm a convenient starting date so I can get on with planning the courses.”

  Hanna promised she would, and the two women shook hands before parting company. She felt a warm glow as she set off to rejoin her tour group. The meeting seemed more like a done deal than an interview. Luciano had obviously put in a good word. Relieved everything had gone so well and pleased with Rosalia’s offer and the thought of being able to spend the winter in Sicily, she reached for her phone to call Luciano to tell him the good news.

  Chapter Seven

  North Wales, Tuesday 24th October, 2017

  Hanna woke with a thumping headache. She opened her eyes to the sun streaming through the sheer curtains and for a minute imagined herself back on the island that she’d come to regard as home. Slowly, she became aware of her surroundings and the reality of the situation dawned on her: it was the first day of their new life.

  Pushing back the covers, Hanna swung her legs out of bed and shivered when her bare feet made contact with the stone floor. She fished her shoes out from under the bed, threw on the previous day’s sweater over her nightie, and went in search of Eva in the little bedroom next door.

  But the bed was empty, and Hanna felt her stomach lurch as she recalled the recent incident at the airport. Then she spotted the toddler on the other side of the room, kneeling on the window seat, elbows propped on the sill, intent on watching something outside.

  Relieved, she went over and kissed Eva lightly on the top of her head. “Morning, sweetheart. What are you doing up so early?”

  Eva squealed with delight at the sound of her mother’s voice and turned, throwing her arms round Hanna’s neck. “Ciao, Mammina – the birds, they woke me up.” Eva pointed at the offenders – a small group of starlings that were foraging for their breakfast, squawking and squabbling over the feast of worms and slugs left by the heavy overnight dew. She rubbed her eyes sleepily; she obviously hadn’t been up long.

  “Never mind, let’s go and get some breakfast. Then we can go and explore. That’ll be fun, won’t it?”

  Eva’s face dissolved into an angelic grin. “Yes, yes, yes!” she nodded enthusiastically, her voice rising to emphasise each word. “Let’s go!” She made a clumsy descent from the window seat, half falling to the floor before grabbing Hanna’s hand, trying to propel her into the kitchen. Hanna joined in the game, laughing as she went, spurred on by her daughter’s eagerness.

  In the compact kitchen at the back of the cottage, Hanna began opening cupboards to see what was there. She needn’t have worried. A plentiful supply of basic foodstuffs greeted her: milk, butter, cheese, and eggs in the fridge; ground coffee, cereal, bread, and marmalade in the cupboards, together with a variety of dried and tinned produce, and a bowl of fresh fruit.

  After making a pot of coffee, she prepared two bowls of cereal with slices of banana and strawberries. Eva devoured hers quickly, making loud slurping noises which made Hanna frown, followed by an amused smile, pleased that the toddler could adapt to their new circumstances so easily. The food made her feel better and the headache was easing.

  Breakfast over, Eva began tearing round the cottage, pleading with Hanna to let her go outside in her pyjamas.

  Hanna gingerly opened the double bolt on the back door. It led out into a small courtyard, warmed by shafts of sunlight and sheltered by high stone walls from which small plants sprouted at intervals. It was only when they ventured into the back garden beyond that the brisk wind hit them, a stark reminder that it was autumn.

  “C’mon, Eva, let’
s go back inside and get dressed. We don’t want to catch a cold and be ill, do we? Then we’ll go for a walk. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

  The little girl nodded in agreement. Hanna hastily pulled some warm clothes out of the suitcase, gave Eva a quick wash, and dressed her in dungarees and a fluffy pink sweater before trying to restore some order to her tousled locks with a hairbrush. She pulled on jeans and a claret-coloured sweatshirt, making a mental note that they both needed some warmer clothes if they were to survive the Welsh winter.

  Outside, the wind whipped up the fallen leaves in their myriad hues, shimmering in the autumnal sun. Its energy was intoxicating, filling Hanna with a vigour and positivity that she’d not felt for some time and transforming Eva into a whirling dervish, hurtling through the countryside like someone possessed.

  “Eva, not so fast! You’ll fall over and hurt yourself,” Hanna shouted after her.

  But the little girl kept on running until she became so breathless that she ground to a halt, flinging herself on the grass, arms and legs outstretched like a starfish, giggling uncontrollably. Hanna did likewise, the pair of them lying on their backs, looking up at an almost cloudless sky, happy and relaxed. It was as if neither of them had a care in the world.

  The spell was broken by Hanna’s mobile. It was Rhys ringing to see if they were okay and needed anything. He confirmed that the rental company had picked up the car, and suggested he came over in the afternoon to show them around the area. They arranged to meet early afternoon, once Rhys finished work.