Summer Days

The juice was sticky and she squinted to make the receding sun fit neatly inside the empty window of the castle ruin on the opposite hill. Almost a chill in the air, but the chill was a joke, just something to make the moment exciting, a tingling. All was well with Isabel, all was always well, but there were mosquitos, the garden was full of them and they bit her in swarms. Behind her, the house casting its centenary shade and she looked up to check that the windows to her room were shut otherwise there’d be no sleep.

Every August fell short in some way in the end, Isabel thought in retrospect. It was a sting that first bugged her as she was eating the third fig of the afternoon.

The blinds were all drawn, probably aunt Ella had done the rounds already, no respect for privacy in this house in the summer, but then again it was good to not have mosquitos.

And then it was all a jumble, that’s how she still remembers it, as sudden chaos. There was a ruffle in the leaves behind her, something animal and big approaching at high speed.

She ducked, she panicked, tried to flee and she tripped on the leg of the white couch under the pergola, toppled on the pillows and clasped the first heavy object in her reach, a hardback copy of the Satanic Verses that she blindly threw behind her at the incoming danger, striking the old man in Speedos right in the middle of his forehead as he darted towards her from the bushes. He looked startled for a second before crumbling in a heap and smashing his head against the stone basin with the angel blowing the trumpet. Almost at once blood started pooling under his open mouth and on the pages of the book and on Isabel’s white espadrille, left behind. She cowered with her hands on her face in a silent spasm on top of the couch. The bite on her leg started itching furiously.

He was clearly dead.

It was this that cousin Enrico saw as he headed from the main house to take his afternoon outdoor shower. He paused briefly and then turned to Isabel who was scratching her leg still standing on the couch gaping at the crumpled figure on the ground.

“Who’s that?” “Oh my goooooood” - Isabel made an effort to find her voice “Who’s this man, Isabel?” “Goooooooood is he dead Enrico, he’s dead right, he’s deeeaaaaad” Enrico approached him cautiously like one who had done this before and prodded him with the tip of his loafer.

“He came from there” she pointed to the bushes behind which the vines spread down to the bottom of the hills, and the vegetable patches near the road. “I’ve never seen him before” The cicadas were very loud that day and the shadow of the castle looked crisp against the blinding sky.

A few seconds passed where Isabel and Enrico paused to take it all in, this pure Italian magnificence. A kid was riding a bike on the road in the valley stretching below them and they followed his silhouette nostalgically, a relic from simpler times when a man in Speedos wasn’t lying dead in their garden.

“I have though” “What?” “I have seen him, said Enrico, pensively. I see him every morning from my window digging in his garden in the valley. He is always undressed.” “Why?” Enrico did not reply. Isabel explained then what happened, Enrico listened and nodded and grunted and agreed. Isabel was pretty in the afternoon sun, with golden strands of hair fluttering around her mouth; they were annoying her as she spoke so she pushed them away and her white linen shirt dress was transparent but appropriate. She regained her composure, kept her reason, she was brave and she did not cry.

The wail they heard all of a sudden was coming from inside, on one of the top floors and they exchanged exasperated glances before looking up. Another shriek, more high-pitched and operatic followed, as its author ran from the window slamming a green shutter and sending some bits of fresco flying from the rust-painted wall.

Anna was out a few seconds later, followed by a handful of intrigued Maggiores who had followed her screams and her Eastern frenzy with a clinical interest. She ran to the body and the others approached in stunned silence.

“What the fuck!” she shouted in Enrico’s face and he took a small fidgety step back. Enrico’s wife was still an odd animal, the Russian minx that he’d found roaming the empty aisles of a grocery store in a Soviet town back when he used to go backpacking. She’d never really clashed with the Maggiores, but had made it clear enough times that she considered them possibly subhuman, although she did enjoy the figs and the sun. For thirty years she had pestered them about building a pool by the house and they silently shuddered at the thought, while she explicitly resented them more with every passing summer.

“What did you do again you fucking lunatic?” Enrico still didn’t answer and backed away but Giorgio stepped in, the ever-ready peacemaker “Hey Anna Anna, no need to get like that, we have no idea what happened - who is this man, Enrico?” “That was me, I hit him, he jumped from the bushes” Isabel looked lost for a second then reached in her dress pocket for her phone. “We need to call the ambulance and the police”, she went on in her trembling but reasonable voice. “He might still be alive..although -she conceded with a look of pity to the open-mouthed body- that’s highly unlikely”. With a curt move Enrico snatched her phone from her and threw it on the sofa. “No need for that, Isa”, explained Giorgio. “Let’s wait a second, let’s understand who this is first, then we can of course do all that.” Enrico was nodding in agreement, and even Anna seemed to look at her as if she was from another planet. There was a smell of charred aubergine in the air. Francesca, Isabel’s younger cousin, was starting to lose interest and wandered to the end of the garden on her phone. Tom got closer to Enrico and positioned himself behind him like a bouncer. Tom was 14 and learning the ropes. Anna followed Francesca while Giorgio eyed the house uneasily: “I don’t think she heard,” he told Enrico “she’d have been here by now. Let’s maybe solve this without” Isabel was looking at them uneasily “but why? Why learn who he is? I’ll have to go to the police anyway and I’ll need to testify, I have to fix this mess by next week when Paul’s coming over cause I’m not doing this all summer. He’s been waiting for this for months and I’ve been waiting for him in this shithole town for weeks, so no I will not shut up Enrico, I won’t shut up Anna” - she raised her voice menacingly, but did not lose control. “I want to finish this now and it’s my damn business because I killed him if you don’t mind.” “Isabel, you shut the hell up” hissed Giorgio so the kids didn’t hear “or I will fuck up that mouth of yours and Paul will have to stick it up your ass” Isabel shut up. In a flurry of purple and tulle, Crazy Aunt Ella emerged from the house. Enrico and Giorgio gave a twin sigh and their mother came by them, kneeled to look closer and shuddered at the sight of the body. “Mother, there was an accident” Enrico began. “This man showed up from nowhere” but his mother wasn’t listening, she was heading back into the house and Giorgio followed running “Stop tailing me, Jesus, I’m going to get the bath salts” she yelled at him eventually “can’t you see the man isn’t alright?” “Daddy - Isabel had retrieved her phone in the distraction and phoned Roberto - “Daddy, there was an accident, Giorgio spoke to me like you’d never believe - I made a mistake, we need to call the police and they won’t let me, you need to get here tonight please” Charging from the back of the garden, Anna leapt on Isabel from behind and wrestled her to the ground where she bit her hand. Isabel howled with astonished pain and let go of the phone which Anna crushed to pieces with the sharp heel of her sandal. A flash of delight went through Enrico’s eyes contemplating his wife. Lying on the grass, the man’s eyes were on the same level as hers and Isabel saw her shadow in their fixed gaze and the light changing with a passing cloud. He hadn’t shaved this morning, wiry short white hairs covered his now sunken cheek. Isabel reached over and closed his eyelids. “Ew”, went Francesca and then “Who’s that?” A smallish man in a pink polo was dancily going down the stone steps coming from the main gates. He was carrying large catalogs under his arm and waved with a grin to the Maggiores huddling around the body. “Oh fuck!” groaned Enrico “It’s the man with the tiles” “Hello, hello everyone, glad to meet the whole family” he chanted “are we ready then for the big decision?” “Well see, this is not a very good time…we are in a bit of a situation here. Would appreciate it if you could maybe postpone this until tomorrow?” Enrico was speaking with a nervous smile that nobody had seen before “Oh wow”! went the man, approaching the body and ignoring the others. Isabel stood up from the grass and he gallantly offered his hand. “This looks recent”, he looked around. “Oh, I heard about that book” - nobody moved. “Is he breathing at all?” The man leaned over after carefully placing the catalogs on the sofa and he listened next to the old man’s mouth. He then took his pulse and it looked quite believable. He lifted the Satanic Verses by a corner as the pages were by now soaked in blood and put the volume on the coffee table. “I could try CPR”, the man went. “I’ve never done it for real but I know how” “Well yes, by all means” He’d stepped in with the grace of an undertaker and seemed to put everyone at ease by asking no questions. His movements were precise enough and everyone wanted to believe him, but alas, after two thrusts and a lot of counting, there was a crack and the man’s chest visibly gave in on one side. “Christ, you broke his rib! Move away from him” snapped Giorgio. The small man was rubbing his palms apologetically. “What can we do?” he asked. “Let’s just put him back”, said Enrico. “How’s that?” “Back where he usually is, in the garden over there” Why this seemed like some sort of solution, Isabel didn’t quite understand, but the men grabbed her victim’s hands and feet and hefted the body a few centimeters above ground. Isabel sat back down on the grass and watched. The man’s head fell bobbing backwards and left a trail of blood as they started moving downhill. “Isa, be a dear and get a paper towel or something” panted Enrico and Isa stood up, pulled one of her dresses from the line and held it under the man’s mouth, half-crouching, walking with them towards the gardens, contemplating the pink linen turn vicious red, thinking about how she would have to burn it afterwards. Sweating profusely and occasionally slipping on rotten citrus, Enrico, Giorgio and the tile man got to a small patch of land below the villa, hidden among the vines and with a few bumps negotiated a low stone wall. Isabel was doing her best, trailing behind, arm outstretched and blood dripping down to her armpit. In the garden there were salads and tomato plants on stakes and a bunch of keys abandoned on the ground next to a spade stuck upright in the ground. They put him down and Enrico got down on his knees to examine the objects without touching them. More careless than his brother, Giorgio started working the spade - “should we bury him in the garden?” “That’s insane”, Isabel whisper-shouted. Enrico didn’t reply but turned to the bushes and searched under the twigs for more clues, while the tile man wandered about looking at the vegetables “these are leeks, I think” he said and pulled one out. The ground was feathery soft and left a mark like a scar. “Oh look, he also had carrots” - and he pulled a huge one, then got back to his knees to look at the hole that was left behind. In the gleam of sunlight, something caught his eye. He stuck his hand in, and pulled out a thin bone. “Hey,” he called out to the others. “Hey, hey” They gathered round him, and Isabel gasped at the sight of the human phalanx. “What is it, Isa, what’s that?” asked Enrico. “That’s human, isn’t it?” asked Giorgio with a vague air of disgust and Isabel confirmed in disbelief. Enrico looked at them, then stared at the sun then back at the body and slapped a mosquito on his arm. “Let’s dig the garden” They needed more spades, so as Giorgio took the dead man’s and got to work, Enrico and the tile man went back to the house to bring two more from the shed. Isabel was left alone standing at the edge of the terraced hillside, looking down over the valley - Anna and her kids had disappeared somewhere and there was no sign of Aunt Ella. Giorgio was furiously pounding at the earth and Isabel turned from him in disgust - his leathery skin, his droopy eyes, his blonde longish hair everything made her shrink away and hope to never have to speak to him. She remembered being a child and seeing him shave once, his bloodshot gaze stopped on her in the mirror and he let out a terrifying shriek. She’d run away and hid in her parents’ room, followed by his sticky laughter - she didn’t quite know what to make of that memory, but the fear was still there. Now as an adult it occurred to her that he might have been on drugs, he might actually be on something all the time for all she knew - in her family conversations tended to fall silent when he appeared. He was permanently lurking and he’d never formed a real bond with anyone else but his twin, Enrico who seemed to come from an altogether different planet. But he was always handy, as well - the family counted on him to sort out matters that weren’t discussed around the dinner table. Isabel sighed at the cliché they all were. Another scream came from the house; she really hated them. The constant drama, the petty squabbles, their inability to reign it the fuck in now, when attention was the last thing they wanted. She decided she’d had enough and remained motionless to stare at the valley while Giorgio went running back to the villa. “Daddy what the hell, what the hell, Jesus what the hell Daddy, ew!” Tom’s voice was breaking and reverting to that high-pitched whine they all remembered from only a few months before, as he stood by his grandma at the door of the shed, covering his mouth like a Japanese monkey. Enrico was struggling to zip himself up and tile man was dusting the knees of his trousers uneasily. Anna came and briefly looked in, spat in their direction then went back out. Heavily, aunt Ella bent down and removed one of her Dr Scholl wedges and hurled it at tile man, hitting him over the shoulder. “Out”, she panted, “get out of my shed, out in the street you degenerate scum!” But then another voice, farther down “Come baaack, come baaaack. Please everyone, come! Come! Help” “Jesus Christ”, aunt Ella hissed, “no peace today, damn you all”, she turned on her heels, crossed herself and everyone followed her hobbling half-shoed figure to the edge of the terrace where they saw Isabel frantically waving her linen-clad wavy white arms like a stranded ship. “Come baaack”, she yelled In a neat single file the Maggiores, Anna and the curious tile man went down the slope to the terrace and over the stone wall to find Isabel holding a muddy denture between finger and thumb. Her face was all crumpled as she handed it to Aunt Ella. “This is Uncle Nicola” she moaned Aunt Ella cleaned the teeth with the hem of one of her tulle skirts, examined the brown large incisors and gave a nod. “It is Nicola, my god” Aunt Ella collapsed scattering the bath salts she was still holding; Isabel ran to retrieve them and resuscitate her aunt; Anna called to her kids and started to go back up the slope in a hurry shielding them from the view of the sinister remains; Enrico stood gaping unsure whether this new development had got him off the hook for being blown in the shed by tile man, who at the same time went to retrieve the denture that Ella had dropped in the fall. Giorgio pushed everyone out of the way and resumed digging and propelling vegetables left and right. Uncle Nicola had quit the family unexpectedly and moved to Sicily ten years earlier with a much younger woman. He had left a typed letter and taken no money with him, which was enough for the Maggiores to grieve without much conviction. Except for Isabel, who was thirteen at the time and had always adored him, the others got used to his absence remarkably quickly - the twins were middle-aged by then and knew that men were sometimes prone to such acts of insanity. They’d also suspected he had his secret account for some time and they were wholly unconcerned of his welfare. Their mother Ella was more of a liability and she had cursed and cried her eyes out for about a week, then booked an extended holiday to Paris after which she came back resenting the French but never mentioning Nicola again. The twins had watched over her with devotion and had agreed to her every whim for a while, then their new lives took over and they never tried contacting the address that Nicola had given them. But now Nicola’s denture turned up in the garden soil and things had taken an unexpected turn. The fast-talking, fainting, digging Maggiores and the cicadas were then drowned out by the wailing shuddery notes of Maria Callas’ Casta Diva and tile man reached in his pocket for his phone. The sun was now setting and his voice echoed over the valley. One by one they all stared at him rapping quick sentences on the phone, watching as his demeanor changed and he seemed to grow taller. “Yes bring him in” he said on the phone with unexpected authority “and make sure to lock the gates the daughter-in-law is trying to make a run for it”, he ordered. He got off the call and with deliberate gestures started taking pictures of the dentures that he had by then cleaned off completely. He looked at nobody as he started going back up the hill where a car pulled up in front of the villa and three policemen came out. The procession of Maggiores slowly followed, with Aunt Ella now back on her feet. They all congregated around the police car and through the rear window perspicacious Isabel made out her father in handcuffs and gave a small gasp. “Yes Isabel, yes” said tile man turning to her gently. “Don’t worry, he’ll be alright” Gingerly, Roberto gave a reassuring wave with both hands through the closed window. Anna started sobbing and held Francesca who snarled quietly. Seeing his cousin in handcuffs Enrico’s jaw dropped and tile man winked at his stunned lover. A fat sweaty policeman came out of the car and shook tile man's hand. "Commissioner Girone", he said, "glad we finally sorted this one out". “I am sorry for the deception but it seemed necessary and not altogether unpleasant”, tile man giggled towards the Maggiores as he saw that everyone was finally assembled. “Mrs Maggiore, he said turning to Anna, would you like to give an account of what exactly went on today?” “Fuck you, faggot” she snapped back and sniffed back tears kissing her daughter’s hair “Alright then, he smiled. “I’ll just ask the questions: Is your name Anna Lesnikova?” Anna nodded reluctantly “Is the man who died today your father?” Everyone gasped, Anna nodded. “How long has he been living in the cottage, Mrs Maggiore?” “Ten years” “Wait what that was granddad?” Tom grew pale again and Francesca stared in mute amazement at her formidable mom. “Was he the one who murdered Nicola Maggiore, or was that you?” Under her daughter’s fascinated gaze, Anna was becoming defiant. “I hit him over the head with the winged cupid in the lobby and then I dragged him to the garden below. Daddy only came from Novosibirsk to help a week later, he rented the cottage and made sure to keep away anybody who would snoop. He grew good vegetables, he was there every day taking care of him, he planted flowers for him.” “You serpent, you devil” shrieked Aunt Ella “Oh shut up, you were better off without him, old cow”. “Quiet”, ordered Commissioner Michele Girone but Anna turned to him: “Why was he running? What was happening?” “He was being followed by Roberto Maggiore - he had been receiving death threats for the past month and was terrified but I suppose he didn’t mention it to you. Roberto Maggiore was trying to get him to leave the villa and take you with him. Today, Roberto put on a butcher costume and showed up in the garden with an electric saw.” One of the policemen produced a red-stained overcoat in a plastic bag from the car, along with an electric saw and displayed them on the boot. “What?” “We suppose he thought you were lovers” In the car, Roberto looked dejected. “Are you serious you fuck, Anna shouted to him through the barred window. Do I look like some whore to you?” “I saw you two whispering whispering whispering” - Roberto was shouting and moving his hands in the car. “Yes, our supposition is that he saw you two whispering whispering whispering and wrongly assumed you were having an affair”, Michele Girone continued. “You see, this was all for you Isabel. Your father has lost a great deal of money in the past three years - some betting, and some bad investments that we are also investigating - anyway, you were going to be left next to nothing, so he set his heart on offering you the family estate.” “Nonsense, that’s insane, there are seventeen of us, why would I get the family estate?” “Well Giorgio is childless, involved in several crimes and frankly quite weird, Enrico has his children, but Roberto’s supposition is that they aren’t his - sorry kids- since Enrico is a homosexual and this has been verified by me personally in the past weeks since I started doing your tiles -", the Commissioner smirked Enrico ran his hands over his sweaty face and looked up into the sky. “Of course, that means nothing, Michele Girone went on, slapping away at a mosquito, “Francesca and Tom, you can rest assured you are still very much your father’s children, but uncle Roberto has antiquated views on gender and sexuality. When he thought that Anna was having a relationship with the man in speedos digging in the garden, he began sending threatening letters asking him to either admit to fathering Anna’s children or get them all away from the Maggiore family. We found some of these letters, skin-curling atrocities he threatens the kids with, quite a sick man, your dad, Isa!” “I’m sure everything you’re doing is illegal” cried out Isabel “Hahaha, replied Michele Girone, you were always the reasonable one dear, but you know I'm the representative of the law here so I can't be doing anything illegal, I'd know it if I were. So to continue my explanations, he proceeded obviously enjoying his moment, you will have understood that with Anna and the kids out of the way, Enrico being gay - surely there must be a family will provision against degenerates isn’t there?” Aunt Ella, who since waking up from her last faint had been quite subdued, sadly nodded. “Right, so with Enrico out of the way too and Giorgio too compromised in the eyes of the law to be able to own anything in his name, that only leaves you and your dad as the sole inheritors of the estate once Aunt Ella passes. Apologies, Madam”, he gallantly turned to Aunt Ella, who blushed ever so slightly at the attention. “Now you must understand, the reason we found out about all of this is that we were investigating Nicola Maggiore’s disappearance. I have been so for the past 3 months since one of his old friends thought to report it to the police. The thought never crossed your minds, has it?” Some of the Maggiores shrugged. “I know I know, it’s not your style. I have come to understand your family quite a bit and there is one thing that still escapes me though: Anna, why in the world did you kill Nicola?” Anna looked him up and down with disdain “He was a fucking moron” “Ok, but why though?” “I wanted a pool and he laughed in my face.” That month Isabel spent much time in and out of police stations, doctors’ practices and law firms. It was largely agreed amongst them that since Giorgio was definitely going to get sentenced for older stuff, he’d take another one for the family- in the end he only got a few years for manslaughter and a few more for aggravating circumstances but they were all relieved that he’d be out before his seventies. Isa was hoping that next summer she’d finally be able to show Paul the olive grove at the villa, although she well knew that every August would inevitably fall short in some way.