Three Gold Coins

by Josephine Moon

  They were both nervous.

  Samuel walked slowly to the dining room, reading a text message from Giovanna, who assured him they were on their way, just a little later than they’d hoped. He tugged at his collar, unable to tell if the tightness in his chest was from nerves or excitement.

  In the library, Mario sang while aligning tables. The long space had been cleared of the green wingback chairs, and Henrik and Matteo had brought in long tables from the dairy, along with bench seats. More than thirty people were coming to their early Christmas feast. All those people! The thought made Samuel have to sit down for a moment on the sofa near the piano.

  ‘She’s a clever woman, my Gilberta,’ Mario said to the room at large, though Samuel was the only one nearby.

  ‘Yes, she is,’ he agreed. Gilberta and Matteo had organised all this, and Samuel couldn’t fathom how they’d managed to get all the family to commit. The pair of them would make good politicians.

  Gilberta had dressed the tables with red cloths. Squares of honeycomb sat atop round slices of pine logs, along with nuts and dried fruits. Terracotta pots held tall slices of crostini. She wanted people to start grazing the second they got here. Other pots held living thyme and oregano plants. Candles flickered, their bases wrapped in olive leaves.

  So much effort, and it was all for him. Samuel had agreed to Matteo and Gilberta’s plan and deep down he really did want this. But as the evening drew closer, more and more he found himself longing for a grappa to steady his hands.

  Matteo carried in his last load of wood, dropping it beside the big fireplace in the library just in time for a gust of cold air from the front door and a babble of voices announcing the arrival of one of Matteo’s brothers and his family. Matteo shot Samuel a quick look. The boy looked like he needed a grappa too. Samuel nodded at him almost imperceptibly, encouraging. We can do this.

  Matteo met his oldest brother, Enzo, in a suit as always, and his wife Carlotta in sparkly jewels alongside their daughters.

  My word, how the girls had grown! Samuel could barely recognise them with their shiny hair and their grown-up clothes. They’d only been toddlers when he’d seen them last. He pulled himself to his feet to greet them all, as the head of the household should do.

  ‘Zio!’ Enzo called, his arms held wide, and Samuel was pierced with gratitude, realising that a part of him had feared they might all come only to unleash fury on him. But Enzo kissed his cheeks and Carlotta did the same, her natural warmth smoothing over any stiffness. He’d missed her. The girls followed suit, shyly but affectionately.

  More family arrived then, the villa echoing with cries of greeting and laughter. Matteo’s other brothers, Sergio and Salvatore, came with their families. Then Gilberta and Mario’s friend Costantino, and his granddaughter Teresa, came bearing wine and silver-wrapped gifts, which Teresa raced to place at the foot of the Christmas tree. Next was Gaetano and Sarah, and Samuel’s granddaughter Aimee, all the way from London.

  ‘Thank you for coming,’ Samuel said into Gaetano’s shoulder as they hugged.

  ‘I’m only sorry it’s been so long,’ his son murmured. ‘I’m deeply ashamed to have left my father alone here all these years. Please, forgive me.’

  Samuel couldn’t speak. He merely clapped Gaetano on the back and nodded, his throat tight. Aimee introduced herself to Henrik and they shook hands.

  Each time the door opened to admit a new arrival, Matteo craned his neck to see who it was. So did Samuel.

  Giovanna arrived, along with Marco and Lily. Giovanna burst into tears when she saw her father, wrapping his thin frame in her voluptuous one. ‘You must come to London!’ she wailed. ‘Look how small you are! I need to feed you!’

  Samuel raised his eyes to Matteo across the room with an I told you so face, but relaxed into his daughter’s arms.

  Lily, long beads around her neck, her long hair falling to her waist, called, ‘Nonno!’ and rushed to kiss him. A lump rose to his throat.

  ‘Will you play for us?’ he asked, nodding in the direction of the piano.

  ‘Of course,’ she said, and led Samuel by the hand to the lounge room. She sat him on the three-seater and then positioned herself at the black Steinway.

  Samuel kept his eyes glued on her as she played Scarlatti, but felt his mind drift away, back to a time when Assunta was there in that seat, or maybe even his own Lily. He pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and wiped at his eyes.

  Then he looked around his house, marvelling at all the people in it.

  The young ones had gathered on the bench seats at the long tables in the library, their backs to the fireplace, sharing photos and games on their phones and catching up with their cousins.

  Mario opened wine and filled glasses while Gilberta heated chocolate on the stove. Her handmade pasta—magnificent yellow knots of tagliatelle—waited in a pyramid on the kitchen bench near bunches of fragrant basil.

  Henrik and Aimee stood in a tight twosome in the doorway to the dining room, each with a glass of wine, their cheeks rosy as they laughed at whatever the other said; Henrik popped back to the kitchen occasionally to check on the bean soup.

  And then Lucia arrived, in a black trench coat, her eyelids heavy with smoky colour, the white streak in her hair dramatic. She paused in the doorway and pulled her scarf through her hands, a gesture that may have betrayed her nervousness. Her head was high, searching for Matteo, Samuel assumed, but her eyes met Samuel’s first. She flinched at the sight of him.

  Samuel, automatically assuming the role of the host, pulled himself to the edge of the lounge in order to rise and greet her.

  But she held out her hand and frowned. ‘No, please, don’t get up.’ It wasn’t unkind, more concerned for his physical dexterity, and he could see she was shocked by his body’s decline since they’d last met. In her mind, he had remained the capable man who should have fixed the roof, and seeing him here was forcing her to reassess.

  They held each other’s gaze, awkwardly, suspended in time and space, until Matteo entered, breaking the moment.

  ‘Mamma,’ he said, kissing her and taking her bag. He gave Samuel a supportive smile, then led Lucia towards the kitchen where she could relax in Gilberta’s presence.

  Lucia would take time to warm to him again, but at least she was here.

  Samuel eased himself back on the sofa once more. They were all still waiting for Carlo to arrive.

  And there was another guest he and Matteo were particularly eager to see.

  67

  Lara

  The hire car rumbled slowly up the villa’s long gravel driveway. A golden glow emanated from cracks around curtains and blinds. Outdoor lights reflected off the bonnets of several cars stationed up near the house, towards the goat shed. Lara parked alongside them and pulled on the handbrake.

  ‘We’re here,’ she said.

  ‘Oh, Lara, it’s beautiful,’ Eliza said.

  A deep midnight blue sky surrounded the stone home.

  ‘Are you nervous?’ Sunny asked from the back seat. Daisy had fallen asleep against her shoulder, still jet-lagged and confused by the shortness of the days, even after three days in Rome, where they had taken a little time to get their bearings and do some sightseeing. Hudson gazed silently out the window.

  ‘Horribly,’ Lara confessed. It had been two months since she’d seen Matteo and she felt as though she’d lived a lifetime during her time apart from him. They’d spoken frequently, but there had been long stretches after everything that had happened when she just couldn’t muster enthusiasm, or even many words. Even talking to her mother or sister had been difficult.

  Funnily enough, the one person she’d felt able to talk to had been Samuel. They’d spent long hours talking on the phone, about her time with Dave, and what it had been like to have the twins, and the shocking events with Vicki. And he talked to her too, about Assunta, the old days with Carlo, how much he regretted not seeing his mother in London before she died, and about how he missed his extende
d Italian family now and hoped one day they’d all be together again. And his stories of his adventures with his latest badante—Henrik—were nothing if not amusing. He’d made her laugh, a precious gift in those weeks.

  But as for Matteo, she’d been frightened to let him into that dark period of struggle. She knew he understood, but she also knew theirs was a new relationship and feared that level of intensity would be difficult for anyone to deal with.

  But now her feelings had changed. Knowing that Dave would be behind bars for a long time gave her a sense of freedom she hadn’t had before. For now she felt safe, though the survivor guilt (as Constance called it) was taking its time to abate. But she’d get there. They didn’t call it survivor guilt for nothing. She was a survivor. She was strong. Deep in her bones, she knew it to be true.

  One night after dinner, a week or so after Vicki’s funeral, she’d opened her mouth and words came tumbling out without any preamble.

  ‘I don’t want to be here anymore. There are too many bad memories in this place. I need to start again.’

  What she really wanted was to go back to Italy, back to Samuel and Matteo and the peace she’d felt with them. The blue hills and the green pines, the olive trees, the gentleness of the air. The wine. The goats.

  ‘You should go back to Italy,’ Sunny had said, as though she’d read her mind, completely sure of herself, licking gravy off her finger. ‘It was great for you.’

  But what about Sunny, Eliza and the kids? Lara now knew it was inevitable that one day she would leave their shared home to lead her own independent life. But not yet. It was too soon. Not after what they’d all just been through.

  ‘I want to go to Italy too,’ Eliza had said dreamily.

  ‘Why not?’ Sunny encouraged. ‘You and Lara could go together.’

  ‘What?’ Eliza said in disbelief.

  ‘That’s what retirement is all about, isn’t it? It’s a great idea,’ Sunny said, beginning to clear plates.

  Eliza and Lara had looked at each other. Eliza’s hand drifted to her chest. ‘It would be nice,’ she said.

  Sunny put her hands on her hips, determined now. ‘In fact, why don’t we all go? We all need a break—an extended one at that.’

  ‘What?’ Eliza and Lara said in unison.

  ‘It will be great for the kids.’ Sunny scraped leftovers into the bin. ‘We’ll teach them Italian. They’ll be citizens of the world. We can all share a house together. Besides, the last time Lara went to Italy and left me behind, I got arrested and nearly ended up in jail.’

  Lara and Eliza grimaced at each other.

  ‘And Mum’s been lonely and lost since retiring.’

  Eliza opened her mouth as if to protest, but settled for widening her eyes in disapproval and letting it go.

  ‘What about school?’ Lara said.

  Sunny shrugged, smiling, wiping her hands on a tea towel. ‘They’ll go to school there, for however long we stay.’ It seemed there was still a bit of the gypsy left in her after all.

  ‘What about Mitch?’ Lara asked.

  Sunny paused. She’d been having a phone relationship with the policeman for weeks now. ‘Well, we’re fifteen hours’ drive away from each other now and we’re doing okay. It probably won’t be any different if I’m a twenty-two-hour flight away.’ She shrugged. ‘Besides, if he really wants to see me, he can come to Italy.’

  Lara and Eliza smiled at each other, glad to see a bit of the old Sunny back.

  Over the next week, it was all they could talk about—the pros, the cons, the money, practicalities, bank accounts, and the clothes. None of them had a European winter wardrobe and they were in the middle of an Australian summer. They didn’t have a lot of money to play with but Lara had taken a chance to go the first time and it had all worked out. Surely, luck was due to come their way. Finally, it had been settled.

  ‘Poor Hilary,’ Lara said. ‘She’ll be trying to stow away in my suitcase.’

  Hilary had indeed been crazy with jealousy. ‘Oh, if only I hadn’t had that whole career and husband and kid thing…I could come too.’ She sipped on her cocktail. Then she suggested that Eliza rent out her house for short-term lets while they were gone. Hilary could manage it for her and it would give them a bit of play money so they could travel around if they wanted to. Hilary had also become Midnight’s foster mother and had begun taking the dog to the office with her. She swore that sales had increased due to Midnight putting everyone in a good mood.

  When Lara had nervously told Matteo about the idea of the entire Foxleigh family coming to Italy, he’d been unequivocally supportive.

  ‘Yes! They are your family. You must bring everyone,’ he said, as though it would be strange to do anything else. ‘I can’t wait to meet them.’ He paused. ‘As long as I can have you to myself sometimes too?’

  She assured him that would be no problem.

  Then when she told Samuel they would be looking for a place to rent in Fiotti he insisted they all stay with him.

  ‘No, we can’t,’ she protested. ‘Daisy and Hudson will drive you mad with the noise. There are five of us!’

  ‘Don’t be daft,’ he said sternly. ‘There’s plenty of room here. Your sister and the kids can join you upstairs. I think maybe my room with Assunta has been closed up for too long.’

  ‘Oh, Samuel, no.’

  ‘No arguing. It’s time for new life in there. And there is still the former caretaker’s flat under the house for your mother to have her privacy.’

  ‘But it’s too much.’

  ‘Rubbish. I won’t hear another word about it. This was a house built for big families,’ he said, and Lara’s skin erupted into goosebumps. She’d known it from the start.

  ‘Okay,’ she’d said, hardly believing it was happening. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘You’re welcome. I am old enough to guarantee you that there are better times ahead, for all of us.’

  And now the Foxleigh family was here.

  Sunny woke up Daisy, who blinked into the shining lights. ‘Are we there yet?’

  ‘Yes. Now we need to put your coats on,’ Sunny said, retrieving them from the floor of the car.

  Lara stepped out, and the very first thing she heard was the goats remonstrating at her from the shed. She grinned. ‘I’ll be right back,’ she told her family, and dashed up the hill to the barn, shivering without a coat.

  Meg and Willow came to the door to greet her. They looked like they’d pulled themselves out of bed, she thought, given they both had wood shavings on their coats.

  ‘Hello, my darlings,’ she said, reaching both hands over the wooden gate so she could rub each of them at the same time, loving the feel of their soft noses in her palms, the warm smoothness of their long ears. Meg continued to grumble while Willow made little creaking noises. ‘I’ve missed you too,’ she said. ‘I really have.’

  ‘And I have missed you.’

  Lara looked up to see Matteo standing nearby, smiling. She retrieved her arms from the goats and before she could even straighten up, he’d moved swiftly to her, pulling her to him. She squeezed him back, hardly able to believe the feel of him beneath her hands. ‘Oh, I’ve missed you so much,’ she whispered, her voice carrying on the crisp air.

  He released her, but only enough so that he could swoop down and kiss her. The feel of the back of his neck was enough to make her hum with glee. She was certain they were going to be okay.

  ‘Goats!’ Daisy’s voice called, interrupting their kiss. She came running into the barn, her wool-lined boots pounding the earth with each step.

  Matteo released Lara, but did not flinch or shy away. Instead he stood solidly, one arm tightly around her.

  ‘Hello,’ he said to Daisy as she halted at the gate. ‘And hello to you,’ he said to Hudson, who’d followed her in.

  ‘Hi,’ said Hudson, his eyes on the goats, but giving Matteo a wave.

  Lara shivered then, realising how cold she was now that Matteo’s body wasn’t pressed so tightly t
o hers.

  Eliza and Sunny arrived, puffing and rubbing their hands. Lara introduced them to Matteo and he kissed them each on both cheeks.

  ‘It is so good to meet you,’ he said. ‘Welcome to the villa. Samuel is inside, and almost everyone else is there too. It is much warmer. You should come down and sit by the fire.’

  He shepherded them all safely down the hill, taking Eliza’s arm, and they filed into the warm kitchen. Gilberta was ‘easy tears’ as she met everyone and kissed them all and hugged Lara so hard Lara worried for one of her ribs.

  ‘But you are all so bountiful,’ she said, squeezing the children’s cheeks. They both giggled.

  Matteo put his arm around Lara and turned to Lucia. ‘Mamma, you remember Lara,’ he said.

  Lucia lifted her chin slightly but managed to smile at Lara, seemingly having let go of her preferred choice of woman for her son. She held out her hand, but Lara stepped forward and embraced the woman, kissing her on both cheeks. ‘Buonasera, Lucia.’

  The older woman was a little stiff in Lara’s arms, but Lara hoped she was pleased with her efforts. She returned to Matteo’s side and squeezed his hand. ‘Samuel’s in the lounge,’ he told her.

  ‘Oh, yes,’ Gilberta said. ‘He will be so happy to see you.’

  ‘I’m hungry,’ Hudson said.

  ‘Me too,’ chimed in Daisy.

  ‘Sì, we must feed you,’ Gilberta said, pointing to the platters of food out in the dining area.

  Lara excused herself and headed past the boiling pots and pyramid of pasta in the kitchen, waved to Henrik, who was in the corner of the dining room with a young woman, and entered the living room.

  Samuel was on the three-seater. His snowy hair was brushed back. He was dressed in a charcoal suit, with shiny shoes and a crisp white shirt, and he looked amazing. Years younger. Several people sat around him, all watching another young woman playing the piano. Lily, it must be—the pianist. Lara couldn’t help but smile. Samuel appeared so transfixed by his granddaughter’s performance that Lara almost didn’t want to break the spell he was under.