Chapter 13

Chapter 13 - Another Plan

Angela would never quite remember when the plan came to her. Who would. I mean plans like this don’t just pop into your head all of a sudden. They develop and meander like an ancient stream finding it’s way to the open sea. It’s waters endlessly cascading over rocks and pebbles and branches. Ebbing and flowing through creaks and brooks and such, but ultimately arriving at the point of arrival without quite knowing how it got there. And neither did she. But she knew this was her one last chance and she knew that even if she was successful everything would change for ever. Her time was running out. And she would be doubly guilty of a terrible sin. What must the Lord think.

She woke up the next morning somehow different. She was business like and she was in control. She had a task to perform and she went about it like a soldier on duty. Perhaps the last couple of months since Bruno had died had prepared her for this. But, none the less she was ready and up for the ordeal.

She marched around the house as if she had rehearsed every step. And she had, in her mind. She cleaned the house using the strongest of detergents so as to outdo the stench from the night before. The terrible stench of her rancid husband. She scrubbed and she scrubbed and she even smiled. Then she opened the windows a little. A very little, in case too much of the odor poured out into the piazza all at once and alerted the nostrils below. Then she entered the freezer, dressed warmly and she wrapped the decomposing corpse into an old blanket. She tied it with his rope. The same one that failed to hang her. She was surprised at how easy it was. She didn’t even need to lift him up. She just rolled his stiff being over onto the blanket. Just like rolling a long, twisted log. Thank goodness she had the walk in freezer. His stench remained encapsulated, for she could accomplish the entire task from inside the freezer. She wrapped up warmly for the occasion. Once he was cocooned she exited the freezer, closed the door and had breakfast. It was not until she started sweating profusely that she realized that she had forgotten to remove her winter clothes. And this was one hot June morning.

At lunch time she took herself to a nearby town and bought a large shovel and a couple of bricks and a balaclava hat. She figured that if she was going to do this she may as well do it properly. Plus, the plan had enough risks in it, so she had to be as prepared as possible. As the day wore on she felt more and more nervous. She was even more nervous than before she got married and before she had her children. And yet she was strangely exhilarated and extraordinarily calm. She moved like a trained agent in the field. Her every step was calculated and she knew exactly how the day would proceed.

In the afternoon she went about her daily chores and chatted with her neighbors. She even ran into Giacomo, who asked a lot of questions and seemed concerned. But even he didn’t ask as many questions as the Signora Malaventa. Angela brushed her off. The old ferret always asked too many questions. It was her nature.

In the early evening she went over to her parents for dinner and she played with Giuseppe until it was his bedtime. She sat outside in the back yard with her father and mother. The moon was rising and the stars numerous.

“And what do the doctor’s say about Bruno’s progress?” Angela’s father asked inquisitively.

“They say he’ll be fine in a few weeks. A couple more months at the most. They tell me not to worry. I just need to ensure that he remains totally rested. The only danger is that he catches pneumonia. That’s why I have to keep him wrapped up and in bed for as much of the day as possible.” Angela was very convincing.

“I’m worried for you both. This all seems to be taking a very long time. We should think of getting a second opinion from Dottore Fabia. He’s always looked after us. He even sees to il Conte.”

“No, the doctor we’re using has already sought a second opinion from an expert in Florence. We are comfortable with them. Dottore Fabia doesn’t have the expertise or resources. These are some of the best doctors in Italy. Plus, why risk that Dottore Fabia gets infected. That would be dangerous for all of Girotondo, particularly the children.” Angela was rarely forceful with her father.

“Come on Armando, Angela knows what she’s doing. Just be patient. Dottore Fabia has been fabulous with us all, but he’s just a local doctor.” Angela’s mother saved the day.

Armando Liguria had what he needed. He had probed just enough and his suspicions were now aroused. He stared at his daughter. He knew then that something must be up. He remained silent and let them win the day. He would start his research the next morning.

As Angela walked herself home that night from her parents house, she breathed in the warm summer air. It was heavy and wonderful. It smelt of flowers and spices and tomato sauces bubbling around her as families prepared their late dinners. She heard the chatter and laughter of the families and friends of Girotondo enjoying their night together. It was summer, so everyone in Italy automatically goes to bed later and eats later and chatters later. Everyone, children included.

Then Angela saw Monte Amiato, tall, distant and yet staring at her. Staring straight at her knowingly. Calling her.

“I’ll see you later”. She whispered.

Angela then stared fondly up at her mountain. Tonight could even be the last time that she would see this great mountain of hers. But she would never forget it. She sat and stared and memorized every line and every shading that marked the great mountain. Then she closed her eyes and repainted the silhouette to ensure that she could quickly and accurately recall its beauty. She did and it gave her great courage. It didn’t seem to matter what would happen to her that fateful night, she would always have her mountain to stare at and dream of, no matter where she would be taken. And then she prayed. She prayed for Giuseppe and she prayed for her soul. And she walked home whispering,

“Ciao Giuseppe, ciao. Ti amo, mio amore. Ti amo. Look after yourself and remember that mummy loves you no matter what. I will always be thinking of you.”

And Angela sped home. She never even shed a tear. She was proud of herself. How strange.

copyright ©Philip L Letts 2007