New Clothes

‘There was always an excuse for new clothes,’ her best friend, Barbara advised, while they trawled around Queensmere.

She wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do; get excited, when her Italian family, might not feel the same. Aunt Bella’s consequent messages told her different. If her mama didn’t want to go, then that could be left to another time.

As she picked out exotic trouser suits and luxurious dresses – she had inherited her mother’s knack for going brown, at even the merest hint of the sun  – all the spring colours matched her tanned skin and stunted auburn hair perfectly.

They finished off the afternoon in style. Barbara treated Alessandra to a three-course meal at Rossi’s; their local Italian restaurant. Authentic dishes, delicious. After a hearty meal of Bruschetta, Tuagatelle and Tiramisu, Alessandra couldn’t help but get excited.

As she sipped at her expresso, she stared at the jam-packed bags, which surrounded her feet. ‘I’ve spent so much today, my bank manager will be having a fit.’

‘It’s only money.’ Barbara grinned. ‘I am so jealous, and I only wish I could come with you.’

‘Me too. It would be so good to have the company, but I think it is best I go alone. I want to keep the other ticket for Mum. If she does change her mind. I can’t even bring the subject up, without an excuse to hang up the phone, or walk away from me.’

‘From what you have told me, she is probably terrified, but that shouldn’t stop you.’

‘I know and I am so looking forward to seeing my aunty.’

‘When was the last time you saw Bella?’

‘I was about five. They were really friendly. It was funny to see mum speaking in fluent Italian.’

‘Can you speak the language?’

‘Some, but not when they speak really fast,’ Alessandra said.

The next couple of weeks passed by in a blur of packing.

Her doctor was entirely happy for her to go, if she made the next appointment in time and kept them informed of any changes in health. The only thing that was keeping her spirits low was her mum’s insistence that she would not be joining her.

‘Why don’t you come with me?’ Alessandra opened her suitcase.

‘It has been too long, and Papa isn’t going to change his mind, he made that much clear the last time we met.’

‘Aunt Bella would be so pleased to see you.’ Alessandra wasn’t about to give up. ‘She told me, you would be welcome and not to pay any heed to Grand papa.’

‘I know, but I’m not ready to face him.’

Sat on the edge of the bed, her mum stroked the quilt cover, each patch a different moment in time. Green fields, like those at home, but different. There was one patch, Bella took from home. It belonged to her Grandmama’s tablecloth. The only thing from Italy she brought to England.

‘You don’t have to speak to him,’ she said, and pleaded with her mother’s quiet eyes, not breaking contact with them. ‘Stay with Bella, catch up on old times. It seems unfair that for one man’s stubbornness, everyone should suffer. Bella misses you, I can tell it in her voice.’

‘Does she not think I miss her too.’

‘Then take the other ticket, pack a bag, it is that easy.’

‘It is never that easy bambino. Can you give these letters to Bella? One of them is for Papa. Please do not see him. I do not wish for you to be hurt.’

‘You could give it yourself.’ Alessandra prompted.

‘I cannot face her just yet.’