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CHAPTER ELEVEN
SERAFINA
Six Weeks Later
‘Over here, Papa?’
I watched as in front of me he slowly nodded his head. Then I continued to push his wheelchair over to the area we’d created especially for him. The very corner of the terrace was sheltered from the wind, and he enjoyed feeling the few hours of warm sunshine we were lucky to still be witnessing at the beginning of November. And even better as far as he was concerned, he could see the beach below, the one he loved so much.
Me, on the other hand, hadn’t so much as glanced in its direction since I’d ran off it a few weeks before.
Every now and again, in the weeks that had followed our family’s fall from grace, I’d heard Salvatore arriving on his bike and every single time, I’d thrown myself into the many things that my family needed me to attend to. I couldn’t understand why Salvatore still wanted to be with me. I knew my papa was innocent of the things that were being whispered behind our backs, simply because I knew him, and I’d worked out that there couldn’t be any evidence to prove he was the older man involved with the people trafficking, because he was still alive.
So, why? I was certain a man like Salvatore could get any woman he wanted, but even though we hadn’t come face to face in weeks, I knew the woman he wanted was me.
In our own way we were all struggling, even little Mia who we’d all sworn to protect. Dante was now Alessio’s right hand man at fourteen, and almost as though his young body understood the nature of the work he was going to be involved in, he had grown several inches and broadened across the shoulders. But his crystal blue eyes no longer shone with mischief and the laughter that was usually behind them, instead they mainly appeared cold and indifferent, and that was one of the things that scared me the most. I ran around filling in for our mum, who had taken to her bed since the afternoon of Zeno’s funeral. Not even having Papa back from the medical facility in Cantanzaro seemed to be making much of a difference to the stress and anxiety she was experiencing.
We’re doing okay.
It was a lie I told myself; and often.
Well, I’m at least doing alright.
I patted myself on the back metaphorically and as a reward for being so strong. I allowed myself a quick glance out to the horizon. But as penance for my past misdemeanours, I swallowed down my wants and needs by refusing to let my eyes dip down lower to the place I knew better than I knew myself.
Turning my papa’s chair around quickly, I grinned at him and then bent over to push the brake home. Standing up straight and needing to offer my beloved papa some affection, I trailed my fingertips down his face and offered him the biggest smile I could muster.
‘Now, apart from the paper, is there anything else I can get for you?’ I enquired.
‘Just go and look in on your mama for me.’ His voice was faint, but I was grateful to hear the words he spoke.
‘That, I assure you, was next on my list.’
I opened his newspaper and placed it on his lap. My papa had survived his heart incident after watching Zeno die in front of him, but it had left him weak. The specialists in the hospital had told us that in time and with the right medication and physical therapy he would regain more of his strength, but he would probably never be the man he had been before.
I was happy he was back home with us; we had felt rudderless with him gone.
In the days and weeks that had followed Zeno’s death and our papa’s recovery in hospital, I had learnt more and more about what had happened that day. Alessio hadn’t spared me too many of the details as he gradually opened up to what he’d witnessed. A few words here and there, coupled with an occasional fit of anger and pain filled bursts of frustration, had progressively built up a picture in my mind and had left me struggling with my feelings regarding the situation. I was pleased no one had out right asked me how I felt about what had happened, because I would have answered candidly.
Zeno had got what he deserved, and I never thought I would say that about a sibling of mine. Over the past few years, he had shown me over and over that he had grown into a man with very little morals, even for a family such as ours. He was cruel, manipulative to the point I no longer recognised him as my brother, and I hated him with everything I was. I despised him for his disgusting behaviour towards goodness knows how many innocent people and for killing the young woman Salvatore had paraded in front of the Crimine. Even worse, as I watched his casket going into our family crypt, in my head I had denounced him without even shedding a tear, for bringing shame and pain down onto the rest of us.
My papa I felt pity for, although I knew that I would never be so candid about that. I understood that fingers were now pointing at him, speculating that he was the older man that the young woman had said was involved, and I knew it would take a long time for him to prove his innocence and gain the standing he had once known, if ever.
Then there were my thoughts on Salvatore. I felt sorrow at the thought of him as a small boy losing his mama to such dreadful circumstances. But the rage inside me was ever present at the situation he had brought down on our heads. My feelings of love had quickly turned to hate and back again, over and over. After hearing for the first time of his connection to the young prostitute, Sophia, I had imagined using his own knife on him and cutting off his balls. I had even checked my papa’s office for a gun to kill him with, when Alessio told me of the smile he’d seen on Salvatore’s face as our papa had collapsed to the hard, stone floor. But, when all was said and done, I couldn’t erase from my mind how I’d been the first one he’d sought out, the one he’d come to comfort and the way he had held me to him like no one else existed in the entire world.
I was confused and had no one to help me talk it through. Since that day, Alessio and I had talked over many things, but the compromising position he had found me in had been effectively swept under the carpet.
With our parents debilitated by the situation, Alessio and I had been abruptly thrown into their roles and we were determined not to let them down.
‘Okay, well Mia will be out soon to keep you company.’ I started to walk away as he reached for his glasses and in doing so accidentally knocked them off the table beside him.
‘Fanculo,’ he swore under his breath in exasperation.
‘I’ve got them.’ I smiled back, trying to calm the frustration his disability often gave him.
I picked up the gold coloured, round spectacles and placed them safely into his good hand, knowing better than to try to place them on his nose.
‘You are a good daughter, Serafina,’ he offered and suppressing the need to shake my head at him, I kissed my finger and placed it on the end of his nose.
