Torn

by Karen Moore

  Returning to the cottage across the fields, Eva was more subdued now after her initial burst of energy. They held hands, swinging their arms, singing at the top of their voices Se sei felice, the Italian version of If You’re Happy and You Know It.

  The beauty of the landscape took Hanna’s breath away. She had no recollection of the Welsh countryside being so spectacular, but then she only had childhood memories to go on. Green hillsides flecked with purple heather surrounded them, punctuated by the occasional sheep or cow. Of humans, there was little trace, apart from the curls of smoke coming from the chimney of the neighbouring cottage. Hanna imagined it could be quite lonely and isolated, especially in winter, and wondered what they’d do for company. She vowed to call her friend Ceri when they got back to the cottage and check on the situation she’d left behind.

  Chapter Eight

  Sicily, Sunday 3rd November, 2013

  Luciano came into the bedroom, jangling his car keys impatiently. “Are you nearly ready?” he asked. “We need to stop at the florist’s to pick up the flowers first, and they’ll be shutting soon. And we don’t want to keep Mamma waiting.”

  “Nearly there,” said Hanna as she finished applying her lipstick. In her haste, she caught the edge of her make-up bag with her elbow, spilling the entire contents across the floor. She cursed inwardly as she gathered up the numerous items and stuffed them back in the bag. “What d’you think? Will I pass the test?” she asked, giving a little twirl.

  “Ammazza, come sei bella! You look amazing! My family will wonder what I did to deserve you!” Luciano came over and planted a kiss on her nose so as not to spoil her make-up.

  Hanna had applied what she hoped was just enough to make a good impression. Her hair and nails had been given some expert attention the previous day. Her chosen outfit was a wide-necked, eau-de-nil sweater and matching scarf, a slim-fitting black skirt, semi-opaque tights, and a pair of mid-heeled, mock croc shoes. Stylish but not too showy, she hoped, slipping an ornate silver cuff on her wrist – a present from Luciano.

  He had sprung the surprise invitation to Sunday lunch at his family’s house a few weeks into Hanna’s new job. Apparently, it was his idea rather than his family’s. “Don’t worry, it’s not a vetting process. They may as well get used to us being together sooner or later. It’ll be fine, you’ll see – they’re really easy-going,” were his words.

  Although she took this as a sign that he was serious about her, Hanna worried whether his family would take to her. She was a foreigner, after all, and Sicilian family life seemed so steeped in traditions that were quite alien to her. Being involved in the family business, Luciano had a close relationship with both his father Michele and younger brother Giulio, and spent a lot of time with them. Hanna resigned herself to the fact that she had to meet them eventually so it might as well be now.

  But now the nerves were starting to show, despite her own curiosity about his family and their business interests. Giving her hair a final brush and checking her appearance once more in the full-length mirror, Hanna declared, “Okay, I’m ready. Let’s go!”

  Once in the car, she gave Luciano an appreciative glance. He looked pristine as usual, in a light blue shirt that offset his dark hair and olive skin, a sweater thrown casually around his shoulders.

  After a quick stop at the local florist’s to pick up their order, they soon left the pretty little coastal town behind. The Cortazzo family lived between Enna and Caltanissetta, about an hour’s drive from Cefalu.

  Passing through groves of olive and lemon trees as they headed inland, Hanna marvelled at the November weather. It was still warm enough to go out without a jacket, the sun shining brightly in a cloudless hazy blue sky. She couldn’t remember the last time it had rained. So unlike the grizzly grey Novembers back in Britain, she thought, settling back in the leather seat, taking in the changing panorama of the countryside.

  With mounting trepidation, her thoughts turned to the coming meeting and how it would go. Humming along to the CD playing in the background, Luciano shot her a reassuring smile and squeezed her hand. Before long, they started to pull away from the interior plains and climbed slightly to a heavily-gated estate. Fishing a remote control out of the glove box, Luciano pointed it at the entrance and the gates whirred into action and began to part slowly. Beyond, a driveway led a further kilometre or so over the crest of a hill to an extensive masseria, an old farmhouse that had been lovingly restored and extended.

  As they approached the entrance, Hanna flinched when a pack of lean, long-legged, chestnut-coloured hounds hurtled out from behind the house, barking frantically and surrounding the car. Luciano laughed at her reaction and called out to them, using dialect words that Hanna couldn’t decipher. They calmed down and greeted the newcomers with wagging tails.

  “Don’t mind them, they’re harmless enough,” he said, getting out of the car and patting them. “They’re bred for hunting and make excellent watchdogs, as you can see, but they’re soft and gentle really.”

  Before Hanna could reply, the old wooden double-fronted doors of the farmhouse swung open and the four family members spilled out, talking incessantly, making almost as much noise and fuss as the dogs had done. They embraced Luciano while Hanna looked on, clutching the bouquet of flowers with sweaty palms, a nervous smile touching her lips. Luciano stepped in and introduced her to his father, mother, and younger brother in a formal manner. Hanna had already met his sister Paola at the language school where she was working.

  Arazia, Luciano’s mother, appraised her coolly, accepting the flowers graciously after glancing at her watch. “It’s a pleasure to meet you at last. Welcome to our home. Lunch is about to be served so let’s go through to the dining room.”

  “We’re not late, are we?” asked Luciano.

  “When are you ever on time?” she teased, smiling.

  Luciano shrugged off the comment with a grin, taking Hanna by the hand. “As long as we’re not too late for lunch, it doesn’t matter!”

  His father Michele led them inside to the spacious dining room that sat at the back of the house overlooking an expanse of neat terraces sculpted into the hillside. He handed out glasses of sparkling prosecco which were raised in a toast to the young couple, as if they had just announced their engagement.

  A sumptuous feast of assorted antipasti awaited them on a heavy wooden table: roast peppers and grilled aubergines; slices of salami and various cold cuts, together with a range of local fresh cheeses; delicate ricotta-filled courgette flowers; arancini – fragrant rice balls stuffed with minced meat and cheese; marinated anchovies, and a cold seafood salad.

  “I warned you that there’d be enough food to feed a whole town!” Luciano whispered in Hanna’s ear as they took their seats. She smiled as he handed her a plate piled high with delicious-looking food.

  No sooner had they finished the starters, steaming plates of pasta alla Norma, a local pasta dish made with a sauce of tomatoes, fried aubergines, and salted ricotta cheese arrived, followed by the main course of succulent lamb, served with a fresh orange and fennel salad. To finish, Paola had brought a tray of exquisite delicacies from the local pasticceria.

  Throughout the meal, the conversation flowed as freely as the wine – a hearty red Nero d’Avola – but Hanna had a hard time keeping up. For one thing, they all spoke at once in an Italian heavily peppered with dialect, a thick Sicilian accent adding a further hurdle. Every so often, Hanna would feel the weight of Arazia’s gaze on her, summing her up critically as if she were the subject of an ongoing interview process. She wondered how she was measuring up to the scrutiny. It promised to be a long and lively afternoon.

  Chapter Nine

  North Wales, Wednesday 25th October, 2017

  The clanking of the battered old Land Rover warned of its approach long before it came into view. With a screech of brakes, Rhys pulled up outside the stone cottage. Hanna opened the front door and went to greet him, closely followed by Eva. He wasn’t alone. In the bac
k of the vehicle stood a bundle of fur, its tail wagging wildly, eager to escape and make friends with the newcomers.

  “Come and meet my best pal, Bryn,” said Rhys. “Watch him, mind – he can be a bit boisterous.”

  Eva squealed with delight; she loved all animals regardless of size, and showed no fear in their company, much to her mother’s dismay. This time was no different. Hanna’s face fell when the dog jumped down from the Land Rover. She was struck by its powerful build and indeterminate breed, although Border Collie seemed to account for a large part.

  “He’s just starting to calm down and learn a few manners now he’s out of the puppy stage. I’ll put him on a lead until he gets used to you both,” said Rhys.

  Eva seemed to get the gist of his words without understanding them fully and sensed that Bryn wouldn’t hurt her. Hanna breathed a sigh of relief. Her worries about the dog knocking Eva over, or worse, were short-lived. Bryn strained on the lead, eager to greet them. Eva was already toddling towards him, arms outstretched, collapsing in a heap and giggling happily as he smothered her with wet kisses. Rhys laughed at her reaction.

  “Eva seems really taken with Bryn,” said Rhys. “Is she used to dogs?”

  “We didn’t have any, but she’s used to being around them at her grandparents’,” Hanna replied, realising that she still hadn’t called Ceri. It would have to wait until later when she was alone and could talk freely.

  “We’d better get a move on if you want to see some of the place. We don’t have too long, what with the days starting to draw in already,” said Rhys, steering Bryn back to the Land Rover with some difficulty.

  Hanna collected jackets from the cottage, with Eva reminding her to bring Orsina along too, then helped her daughter into the car seat. At Eva’s insistence, she ensured that the little bear had pride of place and an excellent view of her new surroundings before getting in the front. Bryn gave Orsina a lick for good measure before being relegated to the rear of the vehicle.

  As Rhys pointed the Land Rover along the track heading further into the hills, Hanna wondered where they were going and looked at him questioningly.

  “Thought we’d do the grand tour of Heulog first before we head for civilisation, or what passes for it in North Wales,” he joked.

  “That’s fine,” said Hanna, glancing back at Eva who was having a one-sided conversation with Bryn. Lapping up the attention, the young dog looked wistfully through the caged-off area in the back which prevented him from jumping over and joining his human companions.

  They bumped along the dirt track until they reached another stone cottage, from where Hanna had noticed a trail of smoke earlier in the day.

  “Nerys and Lars are your closest neighbours and live here all year round,” explained Rhys, coming to a halt outside the cottage. “They’ve been here a couple of years now, moved up from London though she’s originally from these parts. He’s Norwegian. I’m not sure how they met. I don’t know them that well. Apparently, they’re both creative types: she’s a potter and he paints.”

  Just then, a tousled redhead in an old pair of jeans and sweatshirt, both spattered with paint of various hues, came out of a nearby outbuilding. Rhys wound down the window and leant out as the woman approached the stationary vehicle.

  “Hi, I heard you coming up the track. We don’t get many visitors in these parts so thought I’d come and investigate,” she said with a warm smile.

  “Morning, Nerys, long time, no see. Just thought I’d bring Hanna and her daughter Eva over to say hello. They’re staying at the next cottage for a while, so you guys are going to be neighbours.”

  “That’s great news!” said Nerys. “Once you’ve settled in, you’ll have to come over for lunch and meet Lars. We’ll show you around the studios. We’ve got lots of animals that Eva might be interested in,” she added, noticing that Eva’s attention had turned to the hens roaming round the cottage, clucking contentedly.

  “We’d like that very much, wouldn’t we, Eva?” Hanna replied. Eva gurgled as if in agreement.

  They arranged to meet the following Tuesday, then Rhys reversed and headed back down the track towards the coast. As he drove, he pointed out a number of dwellings and farm buildings, some in ruins, others abandoned, while others awaited their seasonal visitors seeking a temporary refuge from city life.

  Hanna marvelled at the lush green hillsides dotted with sheep and trees sculpted by the winds. Its raw yet gentle beauty filled her with a sense of serenity. She hoped that she’d made the right decision and that she and Eva would be able to carve out a life for themselves in this peaceful valley.

  For the next few hours, Rhys gave her a guided tour of the local area – not only the countryside but also the nearest towns and villages, and even the coast less than an hour away. They stopped for coffee in a small resort full of lofty Victorian terraces overlooking a wide sandy bay. Despite being tired and restless, Eva insisted on paddling in the sea, yelling out when the icy water curled round her toes. Bryn frolicked in the spray beside her, relishing the freedom after being cooped up in the back of the Land Rover for so long. To the casual onlooker, they could have been on a carefree family outing.

  It was getting dark as they returned to the Land Rover and started the climb back up through the hills to Hanna and Eva’s new home.

  It was gone six when Rhys dropped them off at the cottage and by now pitch black, save for the odd glimmer from neighbouring farms and cottages. Hanna waited until he drove off before rummaging through her handbag for her mobile. She dialled the familiar number.

  Ceri picked up straight away. “Are you both okay? When I didn’t hear from you, I thought something might have gone wrong.”

  “My fault, we’re both fine. How are things with you? Any news of Luciano and how he’s reacted?

  “Apparently, he’s frantic and has been pulling out all the stops to track you down. He’s got people on the lookout all over the island and on the mainland, too. He’s bound to wonder if you’ve gone back to the UK, but I’m not sure if his influence goes that far. You’ll have to lie low for quite a while.”

  “Yes, you’re right,” said Hanna. “I’m going to have to tread carefully. Has he said anything to you?”

  “Not directly, but he must know that I was away when it happened. He can’t really question me too closely, in the circumstances. But it all feels pretty tense as if something major’s about to happen,” replied Ceri. “Sergio’s been offered a job in Rome, but he doesn’t know whether to take it or not. He wants to see this thing through. Personally, I’d leave tomorrow, after everything that’s happened. How’s Eva doing?”

  “Oh, she seems fine – just needs to get used to English. Either that or Rhys’s dog will have to learn Italian!”

  Hanna explained what had happened earlier in the day, which helped to lighten the mood. They drew the conversation to a close, promising to speak again soon.

  As she switched off her mobile, Hanna’s mind turned once again to their dilemma. Who was she trying to kid? Luciano would move heaven and earth to find them. Eva was his only child and Hanna had left without warning. Her actions would have reduced his pride and reputation to tatters. That was bad enough, but would have been worse if he’d been aware of the full story. Even so, he was likely to pursue them relentlessly. Would they ever be free from his grasp? she wondered.

  Chapter Ten

  Sicily, Friday 22nd November, 2013

  Hanna’s life on the island soon settled into a new rhythm. During the week, she shared a small apartment in a shabby chic part of Cefalu with her friend Ceri. Luciano had found it for them at a ludicrously low rent, partially but tastefully furnished. The two girls lost no time in shopping for the remaining bits they needed to make it feel like home. Hanna would spend evenings and weekends at Luciano’s place when he wasn’t away on business.

  She was beginning to enjoy the teaching and found her mature students lively and eager to learn. Even the hour on the train to and from Palermo was a pl
easure, with its views of the Mediterranean basking in the pallid sun on one side and the rich cultivated inclines of the hinterland on the other.

  Although both girls worked at the language school, they usually did different hours and at different venues. Hanna did most of her teaching at the headquarters of the ferry company while Ceri covered the new contract with the research centre on the outskirts of Palermo. One morning, they both happened to be at the school at the same time and took the opportunity to get a bite to eat before they headed off in different directions. They decided to go to the little bar round the corner – a favourite haunt of their colleagues, owing its popularity not only to its proximity and the friendly staff but also to its wonderful array of delicate ricotta-filled cannoli pastries that were baked fresh on the premises every day.

  A blast of warm air, the aroma of fresh coffee, and the loud chatter of the other customers hit the two girls as they pushed open the door to the bar. The coffee machines continually worked their magic, glugging and hissing happily, dancing to the tune of the baristas’ endless orders.

  “Ciao, Claudio,” Hanna called over to one of the young baristas who was busy filling a row of cups with frothy steaming milk. He responded with a smile and nod of his head, indicating a free table by the window in the back room. Hanna waved her thanks and Ceri went to grab it while she ordered coffee and toasted panini. She followed Ceri to the table and flopped down onto a padded chair.

  “Thank God it’s quieter in here, at least we can talk. It seems ages since we’ve managed to catch up. For two people who share an apartment, we don’t get the chance to talk very often. How are things going with Sergio?”

  “Couldn’t be better,” Ceri replied. “He’s always on some major story or another which he never goes into any great detail about – it’s usually organised crime, corruption, that sort of thing. Sounds pretty endemic, but collecting enough hard evidence to make any charges stick and go public with the story seems pretty difficult to do, from what I gather. Mind you, it can’t harm having a father so high up in the police. What about you two?”