In Another Life, page 11
The airport system seemed to dictate that she collect her suitcase next. A gaggle of people were gathered around one conveyor belt and so she went to join them, hoping that they had been on her plane. When her suitcase swung round, she hefted it off the belt with not a little effort. It was the biggest case she’d been able to get her hands on and it was full of everything she thought she might need and then some. She had no idea how long she was going to be in Sicily, so she had brought almost everything she owned with her.
The other passengers had got luggage trolleys and her eyes darted around to find one for herself, spotting one abandoned not far away. As she wheeled it back to her case, a short, stocky man with dark hair and eyes spoke to her in Italian. She had no idea what he had said but from his gestures it seemed to be an offer of help. She nodded gratefully and he lifted the case on to the trolley for her and then shook one hand from the wrist as if passing comment on just how heavy it was. She smiled at him again. Yes, I’m the stupid English girl who has brought all her possessions to Sicily in one case.
Now that she seemed to have got through the formalities and had her suitcase safely back in her possession, the tightness in her chest eased a little although the overwhelming sense of being out of her depth pervaded. But it was all right, she thought to herself. She could scale this by leaping one enormous hurdle at a time.
She followed everyone else through the exit and emerged on to a bustling concourse. The enticing smell of strong coffee mingled with cigarette smoke and an underlying stench of bins. It was still very warm.
Stella had said in her letter that she would meet Natalie at Arrivals and Natalie had to assume that that was here. She had no idea what Stella looked like but then she spotted a tall, willowy and incredibly blonde woman heading her way. She stood head and shoulders above most of those around her. Sunglasses perched in her hair and a straw bag hung from her shoulder and she was wearing cut-off denims and a pale-pink vest top, her toned arms a rich mahogany. She was quite possibly the sexiest woman Natalie had ever seen.
Stella’s gaze fell on her and her face broke into a wide smile. She waved her long arms wildly as if greeting a long-lost loved one, and then made her way over.
‘You must be Natalie,’ she said when she was close enough to be heard, and engulfed Natalie in a smothering hug. ‘I’m so pleased to meet you. The kids can’t wait. I left them at home with Annette. They wanted to come but I couldn’t face getting them all in the car. It’s like trying to herd cats, dealing with them all at once. I probably shouldn’t be telling you that. They’re great kids really. I just feel outnumbered most of the time. And Salvatore works such long hours so he can’t help. Actually, he’s not much help when he is there, to be honest. All he does is wind them up and say they can have gelato too close to bedtime. It’s a bit like having four kids actually.’
She barely drew breath as she led a stunned Natalie out to a covered car park, her chatter running on from the children to how hot it had been recently and then how long it would take them to drive back to the house.
Natalie soon realised that she wasn’t expected to speak and let Stella’s prattling wash over her, watching the scenery fly by. They left the airport and gradually moved through the outskirts of Catania and out into the countryside. Everything looked parched and dry, which was hardly surprising if it was always as hot as this. Was it ever green, Natalie wondered, as an unexpected pang for the lush grass of the park down the road from the house in London hit her. The radio was playing softly in the car. Most of the songs were unfamiliar but one or two were Italian versions of songs she knew. It occurred to her that that reflected her thoughts. The car, the countryside, the woman sitting next to her – none of it was entirely new but nor was it what she had known before.
Finally, Stella slowed the car and pulled down a rough track. Natalie had begun to relax but now all her nerve endings sparked as her apprehension reasserted itself. What was she doing here? The only thing she knew about looking after children was that she had once been a child herself.
‘You know,’ Stella was saying, ‘I’m so grateful you’ve come, Natalie. We don’t have a great track record with nannies. You’d think the children were monsters and they’re really not. We’ve just had a run of bad luck. And I’ve tried local girls but I so want the kids to be bilingual. The only way I can do that is to have English spoken in the house. They need to hear conversations happening around them, otherwise it’s just how Mummy speaks.’
‘They do speak English already though?’ said Natalie hurriedly, panicking that somewhere along the line what Stella required had become confused.
‘Oh God, yes. Of course. But I want it to be natural for them to hear it. That’s why I have Annette.’
‘Who’s Annette?’ Natalie asked.
‘She helps me with the cleaning. I’m sure you’ll like her. She’s a similar age to you, the niece of one of my good friends back home. I’ve been calling in favours all over the place.’
Natalie must count as a favour too, she thought.
‘I was so glad when Vicky told me about you. Your sister works with Malcolm at the paper, right?’
Natalie nodded.
‘Vicky is one of my oldest friends. It’s perfect to have such a personal recommendation.’
Natalie squirmed as she wondered how much Stella actually knew.
‘I’m so glad to be here,’ she said, hoping that this was enough.
This at least was true now. When Loretta had bounced in from work, full of the plan that she and Malcolm had cooked up, Natalie had been less than sure.
‘I don’t know anything about looking after kids,’ she’d countered when Loretta put the plan to her, apparently keen.
‘She’s not looking for a nanny though. She’ll be there most of the time. It’s just an extra pair of hands that she needs. And you can be that.’
‘But I can’t speak Italian,’ Natalie had continued, throwing up all the objections she could think of.
‘But you’ll learn. That’s the best way to pick up a language, to live there.’
Natalie wanted to keep placing obstacles in her own way, to protect herself from change. But something had to give, she could see that. Her life had been ebbing away as she sat in their house waiting for God only knew what to rescue her.
And she knew that her being there, stuck, was forcing Loretta to stay too. Not that Loretta would have seen it like that, but Natalie knew that her own inertia was impacting on her sister. She really had no option but to take the job in Sicily and relieve Loretta from having to take responsibility for her any longer. She was twenty-one and it was about time she stood on her own two feet.
And so here she was, with a stranger, about to enter an unknown world.
They reached the end of the track and Stella brought the car to a stop under a vine-covered pergola.
‘And here we are. Home sweet home. Now, let’s go in and face the music.’
26
The villa at the end of the track took Natalie’s breath away. Their house in London was a three-bedroomed semi. This had three floors and a huge frontage. It was rendered in white stucco but the afternoon sun made it glow gold. Natalie swallowed hard. What was she doing here when she quite clearly didn’t belong? Was it too late to get Stella to take her back to the airport?
‘Come in, come in,’ said Stella. ‘We’ll bring your case in later.’
The front door stood open and there was a pile of trainers and flip-flops in various colours and sizes spread across the threshold. Stella aimed her foot at the pile and tried to push it to one side.
‘Gosh, I’m sorry. I do tell them to put their shoes away when they come in. There’s a cupboard over there but they never seem to get the hang of it.’
The shoes didn’t seem to be the only items out of place. Stray garments and wet towels hung from every surface and the marble floor was scattered with plastic toys, balls, a single roller-skate.
‘Please excuse the mess,’ Stella said. ‘We live like pigs!’
Natalie wasn’t sure how to respond. This appeared to be true. But there was Annette. Wasn’t tidying up her job? If it was then she didn’t seem to be very good at it.
‘The kids will be outside,’ Stella said. ‘They’re basically feral.’ She ran a hand through her hair and smiled. It seemed that having feral children wasn’t something that overly concerned Stella. In fact, she almost seemed proud of it.
‘You and Annette live on this floor with Danny. We have the first floor.’
Who was Danny? Natalie didn’t want to ask and it seemed that she wasn’t going to be shown which was her room either as Stella made straight for the stone staircase and headed upstairs.
A dark corridor led into a large sitting room. There were two French windows, which stood open, allowing a gentle breeze to cool the room. The sounds of splashing and children shouting floated in from outside.
Stella walked to a window and looked out and so Natalie followed her. Below was a huge garden dotted with stunted trees with gnarled trunks. Were they olive trees? Natalie had no idea. And there were palm trees. She hadn’t expected that. As far as she knew, palm trees were confined to deserts and camels. A climbing plant with rich purple flowers scrambled over another pergola, which shaded a patio area, and beyond that was a large rectangular swimming pool. The light bounced off the turquoise water and played on the blue tiles enticingly. Natalie itched to dive in and let the water cool her and cleanse the journey from her sticky skin. Maybe being here would be okay, she allowed herself to think.
Two dark heads and one blonde one were bobbing up and down in the water and a girl with milk-bottle-white skin and ginger hair was lying on a sun bed, sheltering beneath a faded blue umbrella.
Stella raised an arm and called down to them.
‘I’m back and see who I have with me. Look, everyone. This is Natalie.’
Natalie gave them an awkward little wave.
‘Hi,’ she said, but in a voice so quiet that it was unlikely that they would have heard.
The children took no notice. The girl with ginger hair looked up and returned the wave frantically as if she were signalling for help after a shipwreck. Natalie’s sense of foreboding returned.
‘That’s Annette,’ said Stella. There was no further mention of Danny.
‘Where are my manners? Would you like a drink? Or are you hungry? I can rustle up some food. I’m sure there must be something in here . . .’
She walked across to an open-plan kitchen area and opened the fridge but there was very little inside.
She tutted to herself. ‘I must get to the shops. Maybe you’d like an ice lolly?’ Opening the freezer compartment, she lifted out a cardboard carton but it was empty. ‘Those little rats. I’m always telling them not to put the empty boxes back. And now I have nothing to offer you. What must you think of us?’
Natalie didn’t know what to think so she just smiled.
‘I’m not really hungry,’ she lied.
‘Well, that’s lucky,’ said Stella as she banged the freezer door shut. ‘Let’s go outside and you can meet the savages.’
They went back down the dark stairway. There was no carpet anywhere, Natalie noticed, and their footsteps rang out around them. They turned the opposite way at the bottom of the stairs and out through an open door that led into the garden. It had been cool in the house but now she was back outside the temperature took Natalie by surprise again. It was delicious, the way the heat licked her skin. She could feel it burrowing into her.
‘Right then, you horrible lot,’ shouted Stella. ‘Come and meet Natalie.’
The two dark-haired little boys didn’t respond. The smallest child, a blonde girl who was a miniature version of her mother, looked briefly in Natalie’s direction and then looked away again.
‘This is Enzo and Gianni,’ said Stella, pointing at each boy in turn. ‘And that’s Paola.’
It was hard to know how to greet them when the children didn’t even turn to face her.
‘Hi,’ she said, trying to sound friendly and enthusiastic.
‘And this is Annette.’
Annette was much more forthcoming. She moved across the sun bed to make room for Natalie to sit and patted at the towel.
‘Hi, Natalie. Welcome to Sicily!’ Her smile was wide and friendly and Natalie immediately felt grateful that she was there, a beacon in the darkness.
‘Super. Well, I’ll just leave you to . . .’ said Stella vaguely and then she floated off in the direction of the house.
Annette rolled her eyes and shook her head slowly.
‘She’s lovely and all that, but she’s bloody useless.’
‘Who? Stella?’
‘Yes. Salvatore isn’t much better. He thinks he is, but he’s hardly ever around so whether he’s a decent parent or not is neither here nor there.’
‘He’s the husband?’ clarified Natalie.
‘Yes. He’s some big-shot businessman but he works away a lot. The kids run rings round Stella when he’s not here.’
Natalie must have pulled a face because Annette added, ‘But they’re nice really. Not mean or anything.’
Natalie wasn’t entirely convinced. She knew nothing about children but she knew that they were supposed to speak when they were spoken to.
‘And how long have you been here?’ she asked.
‘Since last August. You’re the fourth nanny since then.’
Natalie wanted to say that she wasn’t a nanny but she was more concerned about why the others had all left. She didn’t need to ask as Annette seemed only too pleased to share the information.
‘First one went home to go to uni. That was always the plan. The second one got herself pregnant. That was a massive scandal. Nobody liked that one little bit. Even Stella was a bit sniffy about it and she’s as laid-back as they come. The Sicilians are very traditional. The local girls are barely allowed out without a chaperone. So when the English girl got herself in trouble, they were all delighted. Played up to all their preconceived ideas. Of course, no one batted an eyelid that it was one of the waiters from the pizzeria up the road that did the dirty. He didn’t get sent anywhere. Then her replacement just upped and left without a word to anyone about a month ago. And now you’re here. She’ll be delighted to have found you, what with the school holidays about to start.’
She gave Natalie what was clearly meant to be a meaningful look. Natalie wasn’t sure she had enough information to interpret it but she was certainly getting the picture.
‘So what’s your story?’ Annette continued. ‘Stella hasn’t said much.’
Natalie wondered whether she should let on exactly how underqualified she was for the job but decided against. She had only just met Annette and whilst she seemed friendly, you never really knew. She didn’t want to become lost nanny number four before she’d even unpacked.
‘No story really,’ she said. ‘My sister works with Stella’s best friend’s husband. She needed a nanny at short notice and I was available. And so here I am.’
‘It’s such a relief to have you here,’ replied Annette. ‘I get so bored on my own.’
‘And Stella mentioned someone else. Danny?’ Natalie asked.
‘Oh, him. He was Sarah’s boyfriend. She’s the one who went to uni. He came out to visit her on holiday and then never went home. When she left, he stayed.’
‘Doing what?’
‘Bit of gardening and handyman stuff to start with but now he mainly works for Salvatore. No idea what he does. I sometimes wonder whether Stella has forgotten why he came. It can be a bit like that. Everything’s a little bit fuzzy round the edges.’
‘Yes,’ said Natalie. ‘I’m beginning to get that impression.’
27
The children didn’t seem interested in their new nanny and barely acknowledged Natalie’s presence. Eventually, the youngest, Paola, climbed out of the pool and stalked over to the sun beds. She could only have been about six but she had her mother’s long limbs and smooth tanned skin and to Natalie’s mind was already aware of her own charm. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail but long wet tendrils that had escaped the hairband hung at either side of her face.
She flopped dramatically on Annette’s sun bed and then spoke to her in Italian. Annette answered her and sounded fluent to Natalie’s untrained ear. Was she the only person in the house that spoke just English? It shouldn’t have been a surprise but the understanding only served to make her feel even more out of her depth.
‘She’s asking if you’ve brought any make-up with you,’ said Annette.
Natalie replied directly to Paola. She did speak English after all, and so there was no need for a translator.
‘I have,’ she said. ‘Would you like to see it?’
Paola nodded.
‘It’s in my suitcase, which is . . .’
As far as Natalie knew, her case was still in Stella’s car.
‘Well, we can look at it later,’ she added. Paola tutted and rolled her eyes in a way that Natalie had only ever seen adults do before. That Natalie had failed her first test was more than apparent. Paola stalked back to the pool and slid into the water like a seal, disappearing under the surface almost immediately. Natalie wasn’t at all sure that she could swim when she was that age and certainly not so elegantly. She threw a glance at Annette to check whether she should be concerned that her charge was underwater, but all seemed to be well.
She and Annette picked up their conversation, swapping basic biographical details. Annette was twenty. She came from Bolton, she said, and Natalie had to concentrate hard to make out her strong northern accent, some words not being clear at all.
‘I was going to uni but I didn’t get the grades so I came here to learn Italian instead. I’m supposed to be travelling around Italy,’ she confessed, ‘but somehow I never left this place. There’s always something going on. It’s never been the right time to go.’
