The Wedding Arrangement

‘She and Primo were here tonight.’

‘Next time, give her a message for me, would you?’

‘Caro, is that wise? She and Primo love each other so much-’

‘And I’m really glad they do. I wouldn’t spoil it for the world. Mamma you told me once that everyone you love changes you in some way. So tell Olympia-just tell her I said thank you.’

Over the next few days the exchange took place. Luke had Teresa’s furniture moved down for her, then he set about moving some furniture into his own place. This caused much hilarity among his tenants, as various items were hauled up five floors of stairs too narrow for them. The men turned out to help, and enjoy a laugh and a beer. The rest of the tenants came out to line the stairs, cheering and applauding as each item reached another level without doing anyone an injury.

After that it was Luke’s turn to give a house-warming party. It was colourful and noisy and it competed with other Residenza parties as one of the best there had ever been. Minnie was working late, but she slipped in at the last minute to share a glass of wine and see how happy Teresa was.

‘But I know you’ll miss this place,’ Minnie said, ‘because it was the home you shared with Antonio.’

The old woman shook her head wisely. ‘My home with Antonio is in here,’ she said, pointing to her heart. ‘And it will always be there. Bricks and mortar are nothing. You must be ready for what life offers you next.’

A stillness came over Minnie, and she had a strange sensation of hearing distant sounds from mysterious places, inaudible to anyone else but conveying a message to her. She turned away and saw Luke standing nearby. It disturbed her that he might have witnessed that eerie moment.

‘I’m sorry you couldn’t arrive sooner,’ he said.

‘I tried, but I brought you a house-warming present. Here.’

It was a book about Trastevere, full of history and local colour. When he tried to thank her, she gave him a brief smile and slipped hurriedly away, running down the stairs to her own home, desperate to be alone. She locked the front door behind her, and stood for a moment with her back against it, as though barring the world. Teresa’s words had got to her, and she could hear the distant music again.

She poured herself a glass of wine, took the photograph of Gianni from the shelf and curled up on the sofa, watching his face, waiting for the moment when he would become real.

She had done this many times before, and had devised a technique for making it happen. It was important to be patient. Trying to rush things would make it harder, so she let herself relax, holding the picture loosely in her lap, looking down on it with eyes that were vague and almost unfocused. Gradually the outlines of the room blurred, faded, retreated, leaving only him behind. And then he was there.

‘I don’t know what’s the matter with me.’ She sighed. ‘Everything’s in a muddle and I don’t understand.’

He spoke in her mind. Is it him?

‘Partly. He’s playing a sort of game, but it’s not a game to them.’

But if they benefit from it-?

‘Will they? There’s something going on here that I don’t understand.’

Maybe it’s really very simple, and Netta’s right.

‘No,’ she said quickly.

Carissima, why are you angry?

‘Because he’s taking them away from me.’ She sighed, facing the truth at last. ‘My family, my friends, the people who looked to me-now they look to him. Since I lost you, they’re all I have, and they’re all I want.’

But suddenly there was silence. She waited for a long time, hoping for something more. But it was over.

Carissima, why are you angry? How often in their squabbles had he said that to her, gently teasing? She was the one with the temper, he the relaxed, good-natured one who waited until the storm had blown itself out.

Suddenly she felt very tired and lonely. She drew the picture up to her chest, folding her arms across it, hanging her head and thinking of Teresa, who could take Antonio with her wherever she went.

All about her the building was growing silent, lights going out. A couple remained on the outside staircase, but after a while even they moved away, unseen by anyone except Luke, who was looking out of his window, watching for the moment the staircase would be empty.

At last he slipped out of his front door and silently went down to Minnie’s home. Watching her face, just before she’d left the party, he’d seen real hurt there, and it troubled him. He knew he was being unwise. Her power to make him feel protective was something he should fight, but he wasn’t sure how.

One window of her living room looked out directly on to the staircase. The curtains were half open and he stopped to look in. The lights were low inside, but he could see her curled up on the sofa beside a small lamp. Then he realised that her lips were moving and her eyes were directed at Gianni’s photograph, resting in her lap.

He drew in his breath and stood quite still, unwilling to believe what he saw. But he had to believe it when she drew the picture up against her chest, her arms crossed over it as though clinging on for safety.

No, he thought despondently. Not clinging. Embracing. Because there was nobody else in the world that she wanted to embrace. She had found comfort, but not from himself.

He crept away. This was no place for him.

As part of furnishing his new home, Luke bought a couple of self-assembly bookshelves, which he set about putting together, soon realising that he had no gift for this. Trying to use a screwdriver, he slashed the back of his fingers, leaving him bleeding.

With no sticking plaster in the place, he was forced to wrap his hand in a handkerchief and go out to the pharmacy at the end of the street. As he emerged on to the staircase he saw a woman on the level below him, going down the last flight to the ground, then under the archway that led into the street. She was severely dressed in dark clothing and for a moment he was sure it was Minnie. He called down, but the woman didn’t seem to hear him, and in another moment she had vanished.

He ran down the stairs and out into the street, but it was crowded and although thought he glimpsed her, he couldn’t be sure. As he made his way down the street there was no sign of her.

In the pharmacy he bought a large packet of sticking plaster. On leaving he turned left down a small alley which would lead him to the Residenza by a back street. The little alley meandered for a while before emerging near the rear of a church. From here he could see the graveyard. It was a pleasant place, small and grassy, crowded with headstones that were warmed by the afternoon sun. While he stood watching, Minnie emerged from the church.

She was no longer alone. The other members of the family were with her, having probably come on ahead and met her in the church. They were walking in a little procession, led by Netta, with Minnie beside her and the Pepino brothers following. Luke stayed quite still, almost hidden among the trees.

They were all here together, dressed as mourners, which meant that this was a special day, Gianni’s birthday or the anniversary of his death. He wondered what it meant to her after four years. Did she grieve for that charmer as a memory, or as a husband? Was he still alive for her?

Unwillingly he remembered the picture in her apartment, the way she’d embraced it as though it was the only comfort on earth. How often did she renew those flowers she kept beside it? How often could you renew love before it wore out?

They were drawing nearer, towards a grave that lay a little apart from the others. Netta was weeping as she approached it, and so were some of Gianni’s brothers, but Luke was barely aware of their grief. His eyes were fixed on Minnie.

Alone among the family she was quiet. Her face was pale but composed as she knelt by her husband’s grave. Then she rose and turned her attention to comforting Netta.

They were gathering around the grave now, loading it with flowers and talking to Gianni as though he were still one of them. From their smiles some of them seemed to be cracking jokes with him.

Luke knew he should move on, but something impelled him to stay a little longer and see this through to the finish. They were rising to their feet, moving slowly away.

Then, at the last minute, Minnie paused and turned for a last look, and Luke drew a sharp breath as he saw everything he would have liked to deny.

Her face was no longer composed but ravaged, desolate, anguished. All her life’s joy was buried there, and Luke covered his eyes, suddenly unable to endure it.

When he raised his head again Minnie was looking directly at him with an expression of indignation and anger.