So…
She realized that she should check in on her grandmother. She’d left her a note earlier, telling her she was going for a walk, because Nonna had still been napping, but the house was so dark and quiet that she suddenly wondered if Nonna had even woken up at all.
That thought filled her with terror.
What if something had happened to her while she’d been out?
What if…
She hurried along the landing to her grandmother’s door, then stood outside listening. The door was open a crack so she pushed it wide and stepped into the room. The thin curtains let in enough moonlight for her to locate the bed, so she approached to find Nonna lying on her back, her mouth open as she snored softly. She looked so tiny in the middle of the double bed, the cream covers wrapped around her shape.
Relief flooded through Sophia and she stood for a moment, watching the woman she had always thought of as her grandmother. She might not have seen her as often as her friends had seen their grandparents – who’d lived in the same street or at least the same town – but Sophia was proud of the little Italian lady who lived in her family home on the shores of a lake, and felt a deep love in her heart for her. Katherine Spinoli might not be her natural grandmother but she’d been in that role for a long time and Sophia couldn’t imagine it any other way.
But now she had questions too. What was Maria like? What would she have been like as a grandmother? As a mother? Would Sophia’s mother have stayed in Italy had she grown up knowing the truth? Of course, some of these questions were ones she doubted she could ever ask because of the pain they might cause.
She pictured her mother’s face and knew that this long-kept secret would be difficult for her to deal with. But she had a right to know. It might be too late for Sophia to speak to Aunt Maria about it but it wasn’t too late to speak to Grandma. Sophia knew that she needed to encourage her nonna to be honest with her mother, because now that Sophia knew, it could remain a secret no longer. It wasn’t fair on anyone.
She crept from the room and headed for her bedroom, where she slipped out of her clothes and into her pyjamas, then climbed into bed. She lay there for a while, mulling everything over, before exhaustion finally slowed her thoughts and carried her away to sleep.
*
The next morning, Sophia went down to the kitchen to find breakfast laid out on the table along with a note from her grandmother. It said that she’d gone to visit a sick friend and wouldn’t be home until the evening. Sophia picked up a freshly baked roll and savoured its delicious aroma. So she’d been spared from having to press her nonna to reveal the truth just yet.
She glanced at the clock. Ten-thirty. She must have been more worn-out by the previous day’s revelations than she’d thought and slept on. But she did feel better; stronger somehow, as if sleeping on it all had actually helped.
Sophia ate, then showered and dressed. Today she would wander around Malcesine and perhaps do some window-shopping, maybe treat herself to something if it took her fancy. Why not? She could certainly afford it and, as she was starting to realize, life was for living.
She took her small handbag from the hook on the back of the bedroom door, as well as a wide-brimmed straw hat, and grabbed her new sunglasses off the dresser. She suspected that she might need all of these, as the morning was already warm.
Outside, the sunny morning lifted her spirits and she headed along the cobbled street with a lightness in her heart. She’d already decided not to let the secret weigh her down today. There would be time enough for that and it would be dealt with but there was nothing she could do right now, anyway. Her nonna was out for the day, so Sophia would just have to try to forget about her concerns until later on.
She passed a few locals shaking out rugs and gossiping on doorsteps, then slowed down to peer into the windows of the shops that were nestled in amongst the houses. There was a small shoe shop with blue window frames but it was dark inside, so it must have a later opening time. When the next shop, a small women’s clothing boutique, was also closed, Sophia smiled. Of course, she’d forgotten about this, the more relaxed pace of life in Malcesine. It wasn’t like in the UK, where shops opened at regular times and where the larger companies had taken over many of the smaller independent stores; out here, people had more freedom to please themselves. Everything was less urgent, more casual. It made her feel different too. She was used to working all hours, even when she was bone weary, but here she could take the day at her own pace.
She headed through a thick stone archway and found five shops tightly packed together in a curve of the street. She looked left then right, then back again, not sure where to start. But to her left were several tall racks of scarves in a rainbow of colours. She touched them, enjoying their silky feel as her eyes travelled over them, absorbing the variety of their patterns and prices. She selected one, and unwound it from the rack. It was a dark purple with tiny silver dragonflies embroidered on it. It would be perfect for Kaisha. She paid for it, then tucked the paper bag into her handbag.
The next shop sold paintings and smaller prints featuring scenes from the lake and surrounding areas. She decided to return to the shop when her stay came to an end and purchase some pictures to keep as souvenirs of her time here. And, she thought positively, to adorn the walls of her own place. When she got her own place, of course. Which was another thing she would have to deal with when she returned to London. But it was not something she would worry about right now.
She wandered for the next ten minutes, browsing the shops and discreetly observing the locals and the tourists. There were all sorts of accents and languages mixed together in the narrow cobbled streets, and it was soothing just letting the chatter wash over her, feeling as if she were a part of it, yet also quite removed from it all.
Exiting a narrow street into an open area brought Sophia to the harbour. The scents and sounds mingled together, from freshly roasted coffee beans to garlic and tomatoes, to freshly baked bread and almond pastries. She took out her mobile and snapped some photographs, keen to capture the scene in all its glory.
The buildings were painted different colours: pinks, yellows, oranges, reds and browns. Their shutters varied too, from bright green to black; some were open, letting in the light, while others were closed, like eyelids keeping out the morning brightness. The smell of food and drink made her mouth water, so she looked around for a table at a cafe. She spotted one and was heading towards it when a familiar voice made her turn.
It was Joe, stood right at the waterfront, his profile visible as he spoke into his mobile phone. Sophia paused, not knowing whether to approach him, but she was keen to thank him for the previous night, so she walked towards him then stood a few paces away. She gazed out at the picturesque harbour where boats bobbed on the waters of the lake and, beyond them, the distant shores stretched up into white cliffs topped with greenery that seemed to touch the azure sky. She waited for a while, trying not to listen, but she could tell from Joe’s tone that he wasn’t having an easy conversation.
When he finally tucked his phone into his pocket, she turned to face him, but he was staring out at the water, a tiny muscle in his jaw twitching. The way he was standing just seemed wrong to her. She hadn’t seen him so tense, so tightly coiled, as if at any moment he might spring up into the air then dive into the water in front of him.
She approached him cautiously.
‘Joe?’ Nothing. ‘Joe? Good morning.’
He blinked as if woken from a deep sleep, then turned towards her and she saw the cloudiness in his green eyes. The previous day they’d been bright and luminous, but this morning they were dull and murky, as if he’d put in milky lenses that dulled his sparkle.
‘Joe?’ Her voice wavered.
‘Oh… Hello, Sophia. Sorry… difficult phone call.’
Her heart flipped. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you but I could tell from your tone that it wasn’t going well.’ She removed her sunglasses and squinted against the
brightness. ‘Do you want to get a coffee? Have a chat perhaps?’
He stared at her, then down at the ground where he scuffed his deck shoe against the stones. ‘I… uh… probably shouldn’t.’
‘We could talk about it? Remember, like you said? We’re friends and that’s what friends do.’
He frowned and rubbed a hand over his eyes. ‘Yes, I did say that, didn’t I? But not everything can be resolved by talking about it, unfortunately.’
Sophia’s stomach knotted. ‘Oh.’ So any hint of affection last night had all been in her head then. His friendliness, his caring manner, the way he’d encouraged her to share her secret were the opposite of his demeanour now. Had she completely misread him?
‘Look, I have to go. I’ll see you around though.’ He met her eyes briefly before turning and walking away. Her heart thudded unpleasantly as she watched him leave. He’d acted like a totally different person, as if he’d been under a magic spell and now he’d woken up.
She pushed her sunglasses back on, then turned on her heel and stared out at the lake, glad of the brim of her floppy hat to hide under, swallowing the pain in her throat and blinking hard to stop the tears from falling. This was what she got from thinking positively, from trying to be friendly and trusting. She’d let Joe in, just a bit but enough, and he’d turned around almost immediately and hurt her.
Why had she thought he might be remotely interested in getting to know her better? It was stupid. They were just strangers who’d bumped into each other a few times and she’d fallen for his charm. But apparently that was all a façade and the real Joe had just revealed himself to her. She was clearly useless at reading people and had got everything wrong.
But as the water lapped against the stone jetty and the sunshine warmed her skin, the rational voice in her head spoke up and she felt the tension evaporating. Joe had been involved in what sounded like a hard conversation when she’d spotted him. She didn’t know how long he’d been on the phone or who he was speaking to. It wasn’t fair of her to judge him when she didn’t know what the circumstances were. Perhaps he couldn’t talk about it and her bumbling along just when he was trying to process something might have been exactly the wrong time for him. So she shouldn’t write him off just yet. He had been kind to her the previous evening and he had, she hoped with all her heart, been genuine in what he’d said to her.
She’d buy a coffee, sit outside and enjoy the morning that Malcesine had to offer. She would stay calm and not make assumptions about someone she had only known for a couple of days. Because she believed, deep down, that Joe was a good man and someone she wanted to get to know better, whatever happened this summer…
Chapter 10
After she had enjoyed a coffee in the sunshine, Sophia decided to visit the town’s famous castle. She’d been there before as a child but had an urge to see it again from an adult perspective. She strolled away from the harbour and made her way to Castello Scaligero. Walking around the historic building and its museum would be a welcome distraction from recent events.
She ascended the wide cobbled steps then went under a stone archway and into the castle grounds. A placard provided information about entrance fees, so she paid then started to explore. She headed down first to the Natural History Museum of Mount Baldo and Lake Garda, which was housed at the Casermetta inside the castle. She passed families, groups of friends and couples, all browsing the different rooms that the museum had to offer, as they talked, laughed, oohed and aahed.
First she entered ‘the depth’, a room that was aimed at making visitors feel immersed in the waters of the lake. Sophia walked around, gazing at the aquamarine walls and floor, the low ceiling making her feel quite claustrophobic. She wasn’t keen on being underwater anyway, having fallen off a high diving board during a swimming lesson as a child, so the idea of being at the bottom of the lake was not one that left her feeling comfortable.
She moved on through the adjacent rooms, which had information and displays about the geological formation of Mount Baldo and Lake Garda and how they had changed over millions of years. The displays in glass cases displayed past and present fish and fauna of the lake itself. The size of some of the fish that swam in the depths of the lake made Sophia pause; she hadn’t expected to find anything that big anywhere other than the ocean. But it seemed that Lake Garda, just like her grandmother, held its own secrets. Other rooms held more information about the landscape and vegetation and Sophia smiled to herself as she found small doors located on the walls that could be opened to see more facts and figures, and buttons to push that gave out scents of the plants surrounding the Lake. It was a complete sensory experience.
As she walked into ‘the restaurant’, which was not somewhere to eat, as the teenaged boys walking in front of her had hoped, she gazed at the set-up. From its tables and stone seats to its fireplace, complete with gilt-framed mirror above the fire surround, the room resembled somewhere to enjoy a good meal. However, each table had its own monitor and a menu, designed to allow visitors to develop their knowledge of the diversity of Mount Baldo and Lake Garda’s fauna.
The ‘mountain room’ intrigued Sophia yet also made her recoil with its information about the animals that lived on Mount Baldo. Glass cases were filled with stuffed animals, from snakes to owls to goats. Sophia passed the glass cases, meeting the false eyes of the animals and wondering if they’d been killed especially to be placed inside this museum, or if they’d died of natural causes then been found and brought here. She decided that the former was most likely, but preferred the idea of the latter, as taking these animals from their home in the mountains of Lake Garda to put them on display made her feel queasy.
When she had wandered around all nine rooms of the museum, she went back out into the sunshine and up to the terrace, where she went right up to the wall and peered over the edge. The terrace itself was decked out as if for a wedding with chairs draped with white satin sashes and a large cream square gazebo at the far end. Sophia went to the front of the seats and sat down. The breeze toyed with her hair and cooled her warm skin. From behind her came the excited chatter of tourists and below in the streets she could hear the tinkling of cutlery. She closed her eyes and let her mind wander. This was such a beautiful setting and it would be an amazing wedding venue. She wondered how many couples got married at the castle and if it provided the locals with a good source of revenue. Tourism was obviously important for Lake Garda but there was so much more to the location. It was steeped in history; Sophia knew that the castle had once been owned by the della Scala family of Verona who ruled the region in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, and at one point it had even been a prison. It was strange to think that the peace and calm she felt now came from a place that had a turbulent past.
She got up and went to the wall, placing her hands on the cool metal rail that ran around the edge. She watched as a small speedboat cut through the water of the lake, leaving white froth in its wake. The shrieks of excitement from the two figures on board carried on the breeze then were swallowed by the afternoon. Life was a series of moments and Sophia was all too aware of how she’d been avoiding those moments, focusing on her work instead. But of course, she could see now that by doing that she’d missed out on so much; you had to go out and grab your moments, to find them and enjoy them while you could, whether that was whizzing across a lake on a speedboat, climbing to the top of a mountain, getting your dream job or marrying the man of your dreams in an Italian castle. There were so many ways to seize the day, so many ways to make the most out of life. And Sophia fully intended to start making the most of hers.
‘It’s beautiful, isn’t it?’
She turned to find a smartly dressed woman holding a clipboard and pen. She quickly took in the woman’s neat blonde hairdo and flawless makeup – in spite of the heat.
‘Absolutely gorgeous.’
‘You on holiday?’
‘Kind of… my nonna lives out here so I’m staying for a while.’
‘Is she local or Brit expat?’
‘Local. Italian through and through.’
‘Lucky you, eh? Having free accommodation whenever you fancy visiting Lake Garda. I’m Phoebe, by the way. Phoebe Donovan.’ She held out her hand and Sophia shook it.
‘Sophia Bertoni.’
‘So what have you got planned while you’re here?’ Phoebe asked, her blue eyes appraising Sophia.
‘Well, to be honest, I just needed a change of scenery and wanted to spend some time with my grandmother.’
‘Oh?’ Phoebe looked around.
‘She’s not here,’ Sophia added. ‘She went to visit a friend today so I was kind of at a loose end. I thought I’d come and see what they’d done to the museum.’
‘And you’re impressed?’
Sophia nodded. ‘It’s fascinating. But I wasn’t too keen on the depth room.’ She shivered.
‘I don’t like the thought of being under the water either.’ Phoebe smiled. ‘And the size of some of those fish! It’s enough to stop you ever swimming in the lake.’
‘Although the water does look pretty inviting right now.’
‘It’s stunning. So clean and clear, fresh from the mountain springs.’
‘So are you doing some sort of survey?’ Sophia asked, gesturing at the clipboard under Phoebe’s arm.
‘Ha ha! No, I’m actually browsing for potential clients. I run a wedding planning service here in Malcesine. Some days it pays to be seen around here you know, to strike while the iron is hot and to catch the attention of some adoring couple as they’re gazing into each other’s eyes on the terrace …’
‘And persuade them to get married here.’
‘Where better? And it’s quite reasonable too, especially compared to what some people end up paying in the UK these days. Who wants to spend their mortgage deposit on a wedding? And, of course, they’re already here then to start the honeymoon.’
‘So where are you from?’ Sophia thought she’d recognised a hint of the West Country in Phoebe’s accent.
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