The Secrets of Villa Rosso: Escape to Italy for a summer romance to remember. Linn Halton B.
‘Is that Stefano Ormanni?’
She nods. ‘Yes, it’s all very sad, isn’t it? To lose your daughter and your husband in such a short space of time is unimaginable. Life doesn’t get much crueller than that. But Trista has Max to rely on and he’s been her saviour. The son she never had.’
I flounder for something safe to say as a response, not wanting to pry.
‘Only time can lessen the pain. You never really get over a loss like that, do you?’
Arrgghh, I shouldn’t have made it a question.
‘Trista will never get over it. She told me once that she feels her life is now about existing, rather than living. I didn’t know what to say to her so I gave her a hug. There aren’t many things that leave me speechless. But that was shortly after I arrived here and feelings were still running high. People were suspicious about Aletta’s disappearance and it wasn’t a good time.’
I make a show of taking a few snaps to avoid having to reply and then, thankfully, we move on to some of the rooms towards the rear of the main building. Bella has no idea how uncomfortable I feel and I’m glad the conversation about the family ends there. Is it wrong to be curious about someone else’s tragedy?
The magnificent views of the mountains and the forest areas on the slopes looking north, which is the backdrop to the village of Castrovillari, soon have me clicking away once more. Too far away to see in any great detail, it’s mostly the shapes and colours that dominate the horizon as far as the eye can see.
I continue snapping a few photos to show the girls on my return, in between shots of wall hangings, rugs, rustic metal-and-wood coffee tables, and various decorative items.
‘This is such a good idea, Bella. What better setting in which to display what the cooperative has to offer than a stunning villa like this one?’
‘That’s Max, for you. He’s constantly trying to think of ways to give the locals some return. The Ormannis weren’t keen at first, treasuring some of the more old-fashioned family heirlooms that were a part of their heritage. He convinced them that updating the villa was essential and a part of that should be to make it a celebration of the way forward. When I arrived here the work was in full swing and tempers were a little frayed at times. But in the end everyone could see it was the right thing to do and now I do believe Trista genuinely loves it. In a way, I think it makes the past a little less painful, as so much of what is here now is new.’
I pretend to be occupied with taking some snaps of a rather large rug, but my head is trying to formulate a question. Bella smooths the cover on the bed, taking out a wrinkle.
‘Is it possible to move on in such a situation?’ It’s an honest remark. How can any mother bear not knowing what happened to her only child?
I’m not sure what exactly Bella knows about Trista’s daughter, maybe nothing, and I’m cross with myself for letting my curiosity get the better of me. But I’m going to spend several hours with Max again today and it would help to understand him a little more.
‘Trista has had no choice but to accept what seems inevitable now, that she may never know for sure what happened. With every month that passes even clinging onto a slim hope now seems pointless. I feel so sorry for Max, too. Since Stefano’s funeral Aletta’s name is rarely mentioned and never by Trista or Max. Anyway, I think it’s time we headed back downstairs, as he’s probably waiting for you.’
I don’t think Bella meant to cut off the conversation as such, but glancing at her wrist watch she’s conscious of the time. However, I hate to take advantage of her willingness to chat to me about this, so in a way it’s probably for the best.
‘Thank you for the tour, Bella. I really appreciate it and I had no idea just how sprawling this place is; I’ve toured French chateaux that aren’t as interesting, or commanding.’
‘I feel lucky to be working here. My mother, however, will never forgive me.’ The smile on her face says more than words could ever tell me. Here she feels free to be herself.
And I know that when I leave tomorrow a part of me will be very sorry to be saying goodbye.
~
‘I must apologise for my absence, Ellie, but the matter was pressing. I’m sure we can make up some of the lost time and get you back here in time to rest up before dinner. I’m conscious that you have an early departure tomorrow and will want to retire promptly. I … um—’
As Max holds the car door open I slip inside, then wait a few seconds as he walks around to the driver’s door.
‘I was wondering if you’d join me for dinner this evening?’
He seems hesitant, as if he’s not sure it’s the right thing to do.
‘Well, as we have something to celebrate I think that would be very appropriate and a lovely way to end my visit.’
His head turns sharply and his brow lifts, taking in my words.
‘You’ve spoken to Olivia?’
‘Yes. She said to tell you that based on the photos I’ve sent her she will have absolutely no problem in filling the first container. And she said “first” container too, implying there will be others.’
Max slams his hands on the steering wheel as his body rocks back into the seat, the smile on his face quite possibly the biggest one I’ve seen so far. His eyes twinkle as he looks at me and grins.
‘Aiutati che Dio t’aiuta.’
‘Which means?’
‘Quite literally, help yourself and God will help you. But I’m not forgetting the part you have played in this, Ellie. Sometimes He sends us a little help.’
‘You seem relieved and yet, surely, this was only ever about seeking out the right clients? You already know the products are of a good quality.’
Max kicks the engine into life.
‘I’ve come to learn that only a fool takes anything in this life for granted. Besides, it’s slow-going, Ellie. The website isn’t up and running yet, and how many buyers will take up the offer to come here in person? You are the first. But it’s about much more than that, as the family are still not sure I’m taking things in the right direction. Some of the loans I’ve convinced them to make may never be repaid if we fail. If I fail.’
Today we head away from the plains, turning onto the main highway and I see that we are heading towards Castrovillari itself. But the view flying past my window goes unnoticed as my head is trying to unravel a puzzle. I realise that the pressure on Max is probably a little isolating. To whom can he turn? But the biggest question on my mind is why does he stay?
~
Our first stop is very different to the places we visited yesterday. This is an ironworker’s compound and it’s on the edge of town. Large, wrought-iron gates lead us into a large parking area, surrounded on three sides by a one-storey stone outbuilding. This is an established business and immediately we pull up two men walk towards the car.
Max helps me out and one of the men steps forward, hand outstretched. They shake hands and then all eyes are on me.
‘Questa è la signora Maddison. Ellie, this is Eduardo Camillucci and his son, Piero.’
Eduardo and I shake hands as he begins talking to me in rapid Italian. I then shake Piero’s hand as Max says something to Eduardo, who nods vigorously. Unfortunately, the discovery that I can’t speak Italian doesn’t stop him talking to me and I give a sideways glance at Max, who simply smiles as if to say, ‘Don’t worry.’
It’s the first time I’ve ever toured a workshop like this. Eduardo talks almost non-stop and Max patiently translates as I learn all about the Camillucci family. Eduardo has three sons, but two of them have already been lost to him. Max explains that moving to a city in the north is almost as devastating as losing a