Torn

by Karen Moore

  “Oh, it’s all great, but sometimes it feels a bit overwhelming, as if I’m not in control of what’s happening,” replied Hanna with a slight frown, taking a bite of her melted cheese and grilled aubergine panino which the waiter had just brought over.

  “Maybe you should try taking it more slowly?” Ceri suggested.

  “Maybe I should but it’s not that easy. It’s like being caught up in a whirlwind. It’s exhilarating, compulsive, and completely addictive, all at the same time. I’ve never known anything like it. I certainly don’t want to do anything to spoil things.”

  “It must be love! Next thing you know, I’ll have to buy a hat!” joked Ceri.

  “Steady on, it’s not come to that yet! We’ve got some celebrating of our own to do first, your big 3-0! Any idea what you fancy doing? Something special?”

  “Sergio’s being all mysterious – I think he’s got something in mind, if he can tear himself away from that damn newspaper office long enough! I don’t suppose he’s mentioned anything to you?”

  “Well, he did say something about one idea he had but I don’t know if it came to anything. I guess we’ll both find out soon enough. Whatever it is, we really must use it as an opportunity for the four of us to get together. I can’t believe that the boys still haven’t met.”

  “It’s not for want of trying,” said Ceri. “Every time we arrange something, Luciano always pulls out at the last minute. It’s almost as if they’re destined never to meet. Have you managed to find out any more about his business interests?”

  “Well, he seems to have a finger in a lot of pies. As well as playing a key role in the family wine business, he also acts as a consultant and advisor for other companies on import/export issues,” explained Hanna, rising to Luciano’s defence. “He’s often called away on some urgent matter or another. He used to get so many calls and messages coming through at all hours that he’s had to put his phone on silent, otherwise we wouldn’t get any sleep.”

  “Not so different to Sergio, then. I’m sure they’d get on well – they’ve certainly got lots in common!”

  The two girls laughed, easing any temporary tension between them. They quickly finished their lunch, leaving a handful of euros on the table before stepping out into the still warm autumnal sunshine and going their separate ways.

  “I’ve got some bad news, I’m afraid,” said Luciano, reaching across the table to take Hanna’s hand. They’d just finished dinner at the little trattoria around the corner from the apartment, which was becoming a regular haunt of theirs.

  “What is it?” asked Hanna, a note of alarm in her voice.

  “Ceri’s birthday party. I’m not going to be able to make it, after all. I’ve got to go to Rome with my father on business,” he explained, stroking her hand gently. “I’m really sorry, amore, I know how much it means to you, but it can’t be helped. You probably won’t even miss me.” He smiled and kissed her lightly on the cheek.

  Hanna turned away slightly, her expression and mood darkening. Of course, she’d miss him – Ceri might be her closest friend, but Luciano was her world. Without him at her side, it was as if a part of her was missing. “Can’t you go some other time? We’ve been planning this for ages,” she pleaded, a crestfallen expression on her face.

  “There’s nothing I can do, I’m afraid. It’s an opportunity that’s too good to miss and it’s now or never. You know how family business is…” he replied with a shrug of his shoulders.

  No, she didn’t. Surely, she was the most important thing to him, as he was to her? She reprimanded herself at the thought, realising she was behaving like a spoilt child. It wasn’t even her birthday. It certainly wasn’t the end of the world. She forced a smile.

  “Well, if you must. It won’t be the same without you, but I understand.”

  The truth was that she didn’t understand. She’d have liked to wrap Luciano up and keep him to herself, cocooned in their love nest, happy and far from the demands of the real world. Realising how fanciful and nonsensical this was, she dismissed the thought and tried to push it to the back of her mind. Nevertheless, the news shattered the mood of their evening. They walked down the dimly-lit narrow street back to the apartment without another word, Luciano’s arm slung casually across her shoulders.

  Later that night, as she snuggled next to him in bed, Hanna wondered for the umpteenth time how important she was to Luciano. It took some time for her to get to sleep, her head buzzing with doubts and anxieties. She had just drifted off when Luciano’s mobile rang briefly before he killed the sound and responded in muffled tones, going into the bathroom and closing the door so as not to disturb her. He must have forgotten to switch it off, she thought. For a few moments, she wondered what could be so urgent for someone to call at this hour, before sleep took its hold on her once again.

  Chapter Eleven

  North Wales, Tuesday 31st October, 2017

  Hanna woke with a start, drenched in a cold sweat after yet another night of tossing and turning. Sleep inevitably carried her back to Sicily, sometimes to the idyll of her early years there, but more often to the nightmare of the recent past.

  Over a week had gone by since their departure. Eva seemed happy enough in her new surroundings, despite finding everything so different to what she was used to. Lucky her, thought Hanna wryly. Left alone with her thoughts, Hanna found her fears could surface freely. Only Ceri was aware of the full extent of the threats.

  Hanna was careful not to use her mobile any more than she had to, so their contact was limited. It was as if she had stepped out of one world into another. She still harboured doubts about whether she’d made the right decision, but they certainly couldn’t have stayed, in the circumstances. Although she didn’t feel totally safe now, at least she didn’t feel in constant fear for Eva.

  If only she had internet access, she would feel more in touch with the outside world, although the whole point of coming to Wales was to distance herself from it. But they couldn’t stay hidden away for ever, not if they were to make a new life for themselves.

  Her thoughts turned to her finances. She’d kept her UK bank account open while she’d been in Sicily. All her earnings as a tour guide had been paid into this and she had simply lived off her tips. She’d also inherited a modest sum of money when her parents died which would keep them going for a while, but not for ever. She needed to make longer term plans.

  Cabin fever, or rather cottage fever, was setting in despite Rhys popping round as often as he could. Fortunately, the cottage was comfortable and provided all they needed, apart from Wi-Fi and transport, and the need to top up their food supplies. Rhys had managed to find an old Peugeot that she could use and was bringing it over at the weekend, so that would solve one problem.

  Lost in her thoughts, at first she didn’t notice the bedroom door opening. A sleepy Eva appeared in her pyjamas, clutching Orsina in one hand and rubbing her eyes with the other, a glum expression on her face.

  “Hi, sweetie, are you ok? Did you have a bad dream?”

  “Where’s Babbo? When’s he coming?”

  “He’ll be with us as soon as he can, cara. He sends his love and says he misses you,” said Hanna, quick to reassure the youngster with a ready lie. She really had to come up with a plan to explain Luciano’s continued absence. “But he wants you to have fun without him. Today, we’re going to see Nerys – remember her, the nice lady we met the other day with all the animals? If you’re very good, she might even let you help her make some pots. You’ll like that, won’t you?”

  A smile crept over Eva’s face and she skipped over, struggling to climb on the bed to join her mum. Amused, Hanna watched her determined little daughter’s efforts, scooping her up when they started to fail. She held the toddler high up in the air, pretending to drop her before catching her again until Eva was so overcome with giggles that she developed hiccups and Hanna had to set her down on the bed.

  “Come on, little Miss Giggles, let’s get you washed and dresse
d. Then we can have some breakfast and be off,” she said, taking Eva’s hand and leading her into the bathroom.

  Wrapped up as much as possible against the blustery wind, Hanna vowed to make a shopping trip soon to get some warm winter clothes. They followed the stony track up the valley towards the studio, the same route that they’d taken in the Land Rover with Rhys the previous week. Velvety green slopes rose gently on either side, dotted with sturdy sheep with white faces and matching woolly coats. Further up the valley, the inclines grew steeper, developing into a rocky ridge that led into the heart of Snowdonia. They made their way over an old stone bridge, crossing a stream where a pair of wagtails bobbed up and down in the shallow water.

  Hanna pointed out items of interest as they walked along, making it into a game for Eva to learn the English words for them. Eva happily joined in, repeating them back in a parrot-like fashion. After about half an hour, the stone cottage and its adjoining outbuildings came into view. By the time they finally arrived at the cottage, Eva’s pace had slowed right down and she’d started to get bored of the game.

  As Hanna opened the garden gate, the heavy wooden front door opened and Nerys appeared with a cheery smile. It was as if she’d been monitoring their approach.

  “Hi, come in, both of you. Enjoy the walk up?”

  “It was lovely, the scenery’s quite stunning and it’s so peaceful. We’re not late, are we?”

  Nerys laughed. “No, of course not. Lars has just had a great idea for a new project and is busy getting it down on paper while it’s still fresh in his mind. He won’t be long. I thought we could have lunch first and then I’ll show you around. Here, let me take your coats.”

  Hanna helped Eva out of her light quilted jacket, once again realising how ill-equipped they were for their new life, but nothing that couldn’t be resolved. A wood fire burned in the hearth, giving a welcome warmth and glow to the living room, adding to the muted jewel shades of aubergine, cinnamon, amber and claret of the furnishings, more reminiscent of Morocco than Wales. A tabby cat was curled up asleep on the rug in the front of the fire, but not for long as Eva went over to make friends.

  Every available space on the walls was taken up with some form of artwork or another – abstracts, landscapes, ceramics, textiles. Nerys followed her gaze.

  “You can’t tell that the place belongs to artists, can you?” she joked. “We’ll have to move to something bigger or start on the outbuildings when we run out of space!”

  It was like a living art gallery, thought Hanna as she went to take a closer look.

  “Is this any of yours or Lars’ work?

  “Yes, some of it,” said Nerys, indicating several large ceramic pots in an alcove by the stove and a number of colourful canvases on the walls. “But others are by artists that we particularly like, some local, some not. Are you interested in art?”

  “I’ve had friends who were artists or were involved in restoration work, and I know what I like but I’m no expert.”

  As if summoned by the theme of their conversation, a tall, fair-haired man with an athletic build opened what must have been the kitchen door, judging by the delicious aroma that wafted in with him. This evidently was Lars who, once the introductions were over, led them into a spacious kitchen where an old oak table was laid out for four, with a makeshift high-chair for Eva.

  Lars brought over a heavy pot from the stove and Nerys ladled out portions of beef stew and dumplings, packed with vegetables and pulses. Hanna cut a small portion into pieces for Eva and helped her to eat, although the toddler’s attention and affections had now found a new home in the shape of the couple’s chocolate Labrador, Brady, who had wandered in from the back garden.

  Nerys and Lars chatted about their work. They’d fallen in love with Wales during a short break from the city, and realised that moving here would provide the space and stress-free existence that they’d both craved for, as well as inspiration for their work. They’d bought the cottage and the outbuildings at a reasonable price as they were in a bad state of repair and needed a lot of work. This had suited them as they’d only been renting in London so didn’t have a large amount of money to invest up front.

  Once they’d polished off their dessert of gooseberry fool, with berries from the back garden, the conversation inevitably turned to Hanna and Eva.

  “So, what about you, Hanna?” asked Nerys. “We’ve told you our life story, but we still don’t know anything about you. Heulog’s a pretty isolated part of Wales at the best of times and October’s not exactly the holiday season. And Rhys implied that you might be staying a while…”

  Hanna had anticipated their curiosity and delivered her prepared answer, confident that Eva wouldn’t be able to understand her words.

  “My marriage broke up and it all got pretty nasty. I just had to get away for a while to take stock and decide on how best to create a future for the two of us. If you don’t mind, I’d rather not talk about it in more detail at the moment – it’s still rather recent and raw.”

  Nerys nodded sympathetically, but Lars’ face remained stony and unconvinced. Tough, thought Hanna, that’s his problem. I’m not being drawn into any revelations about my personal life.

  “So, how long do you think you’ll be staying?” Nerys continued.

  “A few months at least, while I get my head together.”

  “It can get pretty lonely up here, even for us at times.”

  “I can imagine. It’s still early days, though. I’ll have to see how it goes.” Hanna wasn’t being pushed into a more precise answer. She did, however, explain that Rhys was the brother of a good friend of hers who had suggested Wales as a temporary refuge and offered his services to help her locate a suitable place to rent.

  The subject was left at that and the rest of the visit was taken up with a tour of their two studios in separate outbuildings. The potter’s studio was quite small, filled with pots at various stages of their life, with a separate room for glazing and firing. Nerys gave them a quick demonstration of using a potter’s wheel, although her preferred technique was to hand-build many of her creations. Eva got to make a little clay pot of her own, which she surveyed proudly despite its wobbly stance. Her face lit up even more when Nerys promised that she could paint it on her next visit.

  Lars’ studio in comparison was spacious, with a window that overlooked the valley in place of one of the walls.

  “What a fabulous view! It must be an amazing place to work,” said Hanna.

  “It’s really inspiring, particularly in my line of work as I specialise in abstract landscapes, usually for large-scale corporate commissions,” he explained, indicating a number of sizeable canvases lying propped up against the walls. They too were at different stages of development – some in soft mute tones and others in bright hues, more reminiscent of the Mediterranean.

  Lars must have caught Hanna’s confused expression as he explained, “The colour palette is down to the client. My preference is to work in colours that are more in keeping with the landscape here. These are a couple of my favourites that I couldn’t bear to part with,” he added, indicating two smaller pieces hanging either side of the window.

  “Yes, I see what you mean,” said Hanna. “I tend to agree with you.”

  Lars smiled and went on to explain that there was a significant market for this type of work and, although only in his late thirties, he had managed to establish a name for himself and could command not insignificant fees.

  Attention turned to Eva who was starting to get restless.

  “C’mon, Eva, let’s go and look at the animals,” said Nerys.

  Hanna translated this for Eva who chortled with delight. The couple kept pigs and chickens, as well as various ducks and geese on the sizeable pond at the bottom of the garden. In her excitement and to her mother’s horror, as Eva hurtled towards the pond, she tripped and fell on her knees. This resulted in bursts of anguished wails until Brady wandered over and licked her face and grazed knees better. The wails
transformed into peals of laughter as the dog’s rough tongue made contact with her flesh. Hanna smiled, the danger and anxiety averted.

  The temperature was dropping and the light fading as they returned to the warmth of the cottage. Nerys made a large cafetière of coffee which she laced with brandy as a parting gesture before Lars bundled them up into his Nissan Qashqai for the short journey home.

  Chapter Twelve

  Sicily, Saturday 7th December, 2013

  Ceri’s 30th birthday dawned so mild and sunny with the lightest of breezes that it was difficult to believe it was early December. Nothing like the icy, blustery conditions back in the UK. Hanna shivered at the thought.

  “Come on, birthday girl, we’re going to miss the train if you don’t get a move on,” said Hanna, going into Ceri’s room. “What the…?” She didn’t finish the sentence as she surveyed the mess of half-opened shoe boxes and a mountain of handbags that littered the floor.

  Ceri grinned sheepishly. “I’m just trying to find my best shoes and matching handbag. I’ve set my heart on wearing them but… ah-ha, here they are, at last,” she proclaimed triumphantly, opening what seemed to be the last box dragged from the wardrobe. Both were made in the same shade of soft, buttery suede.

  “Wow, they look fabulous,” said Hanna. “Is that it? Can we go now?”

  “Ready, how do I look?” said Ceri, slipping on the shoes.

  “Not bad for a 30-year-old!” joked Hanna, propelling her friend towards the front door.

  All the way to the station, Ceri chatted incessantly about how she was looking forward to her big day. First stop was the trip to Palermo, where they’d been invited to the lunchtime opening of a new gallery featuring local crafts. It belonged to Aurora, an old friend of Luciano’s. Ceri had jumped at the chance of going when Hanna told her that Luciano would be away on business on the day of her birthday. It was a source of continued frustration between them that Luciano hadn’t yet met Ceri’s boyfriend, Sergio. He always had some excuse or another, usually business-related. It was as if he wanted to keep Hanna to himself, sharing her with his own family and friends from time to time but not wanting to get involved with hers.