Ava stared at Gino. She had no idea what he’d said, but she always appreciated the way in which he could switch easily from English to Italian formed with a perfect accent, at least to her ear.
‘Every journey starts with a single step. My nonna used to say that to me.’ Gino flicked his long dark fringe from his eyes.
‘That’s lovely.’ Ava thought how lucky Gino was to have the support of his large family around him as he was growing up. Though his mum was English and his family had lived in England for many years, his dad had ensured they retained and respected elements of his Italian roots.
‘Hmm, she said it when she wanted me to go and do something — get something from the shops, clean my room, collect my sister from school. She had a way of making things sound grander than they were.’
‘Oh.’
‘But in this instance her words make sense. There’s too much to tackle here all at once. You should face it a box at a time.’
‘I suppose.’ Ava looked at the room and felt unexpectedly grateful that Gino was there.
‘How about if I bring a box downstairs and you start with that? While you see what’s inside, I’ll stack the other boxes to one side and make piles of the clothes and other bits. When you can get in the room properly you’ll find it easier to face.’
‘I can’t leave you to sort all—’
‘I won’t be sorting through it as such. I’ll just be making it more manageable, putting it in piles ready for you.’
‘Are you sure?’ Ava knew it made sense. For Gino to sort the items into manageable piles would be akin to what she did at the shop; it was just a process. He had no emotional attachment,either negative or positive, to the things in the room. For her almost every item held a memory.
‘Of course.’
‘OK. But I can’t expect you to carry boxes up and down stairs. I’ll sort them in my room. It will be easier that way.’
‘I am more than capable of carrying boxes up and down the stairs.’
‘I know you are.’ Ava’s eyes flicked to Gino’s biceps and her cheeks flushed for fear that he had seen her.
The twitch at the corner of his mouth suggested he was very aware of her checking out his muscles.
Ava coughed. ‘Right, well, I’ll get my room ready.’ As she walked into her bedroom she wondered why she had made such a crazy suggestion.Bring the boxes in here, Gino. Come into my room. See my cute-woodland-animal-print duvet cover! Oh my goodness, I’ve got my cute-woodland-animal-print duvet cover on my bed!Ava cringed. All of her duvet covers were animal related, purchased by her mum back before she had a choice.Why have I not thought to change them?She hurriedly threw a blanket over her bed, and looked around the room. It really wasn’t befitting a woman beyond her mid-twenties. Ava grabbed an armful of soft toys from the chair in the corner and threw them into her wardrobe. As she scanned the room, for what else she might need to move, Gino knocked on the door.
‘So here’s the first box.’
Catching sight of the ears of Raspberry Rabbit — a favourite teddy when she was little — sticking out of her wardrobe door, Ava decided she couldn’t face having Gino in her bedroom, and met him at the door. ‘If it’s OK with you, downstairs might be more appropriate.’
‘Not a problem!’ Gino turned and led the way downstairs.
Ava picked up her wine that she’d brought up with her, shut her bedroom door and followed. At her suggestion, Gino placedthe box on the large oak kitchen table. He placed his hand on her shoulder, checking she was OK before leaving her to it. Ava took a drink, welcoming the alcohol as it spread through her, numbing her nerves.
Opening the box she saw and remembered its contents: evidence of her mum’s success stories; polaroid photographs of animals she’d saved and released, newspaper clippings and scribbled notes. Ava remembered that this is what kept her mum going on the tough days — the days when the rescue was a challenge or the rehabilitation impossible.
On the outside Ava’s mum had appeared a pragmatic woman, someone who took everything in her stride, driven by her mission. But, looking at it all now, Ava remembered moments, albeit that they were fleeting, when her mum had revealed her vulnerable side; the part of herself that she couldn’t and wouldn’t let get in the way of her achieving her goals.
Flicking through the images and clippings, Ava wondered what she should do with them all. She took a breath.Think objectively.
When Gino appeared with the next box, Ava looked at him apologetically, having not emptied or made any decisions about the contents of the box she was sorting.
‘Woah. Your mum was a legend.’ Gino gestured to the newspaper clippings.
‘She was. But what do I do with it all now?’
‘Does the charity have a website, or social media pages?’
‘They have a web page, just a contact page really.’
‘A lot of that looks like it was reported back when news was shared on paper rather than the Internet. So why not upload it? Spread the word about the work of All Critters Great and Small beyond Dapplebury.’
