The Sicilian's Surprise Love-Child. Carol Marinelli
she stuffed her breasts into her bra. And as she wrestled her dark hair into some semblance of style there was suddenly the snap of a chain, and her collana, the cross and chain she had worn for ever, fell to the floor.
It felt like a sign.
She felt dangerous and reckless and everything she should not be.
Oh, what was the point of being a good Italian girl when the perfect Italian boy didn’t want you?
And so she went to the special book on her shelf, out of which she had cut the middle and in which hid the forbidden Pill.
The Pointless Pill, she called it, for she could not imagine sex with anyone other than Nico.
Tonight she would drink wine and try kissing that firefighter again—and maybe this time when his hand went to her breasts she would not brush him off.
To hell with you, Nico Caruso. I shall get over you.
She put blusher on her cheeks and lengthened her lashes with mascara before sliding glossy pink onto her lips.
She dabbed perfume on her neck and wrists and then strapped on high heels. And she knew that she was not dressing for the fireman tonight, but for the one minute when she would pass Nico on her way out.
She wanted him to ache with regret.
Instead Nico ached with need when, mid-meal, Aurora teetered out in heels and a silver dress.
Nico tried not to look up.
‘Go and change, Aurora,’ Bruno warned.
‘Why? I would just have to put my dress and shoes in a bag and change in the street,’ Aurora said cheekily. ‘Because I am wearing my silver dress tonight, whatever you say.’
Nico could not help but smile. Aurora did not hide, or lie, she just was who she was.
The taxi tooted. The one taxi that ferried people between villages.
He had to ignore the effect of her and the feeling, a lot like fear, that rose when he thought of her out on those fiery mountains tonight.
As she bent and kissed her father, her mother, her brother, he found he had to stop himself from running a tense hand down his jaw and neck as he awaited the torture to come.
Torture for them both.
If she did not extend to him the traditional farewell it would give rise to comments. Her omission would be noted and it would be awkward indeed.
He sat at the head of the table, and as she bent she put her hand on its surface to make as little contact with Nico as she could.
His cheek was cool when her lips brushed it. His scent she tried to obliterate by not breathing in. But because her brother leaned forward to ladle out more pasta she had to move quickly and put out a hand on Nico’s shoulder.
It was solid and warm.
One cheek to go.
Both were holding their breath.
Their desire was like the cattails and the bulrushes, waiting to be snapped open and for a million seeds to fly out and expand.
‘Be safe,’ he told her, in a voice that was somewhat gruff.
She gave the tiniest unreadable smile, and in it was a glint of danger as she straightened up.
‘I’m not your problem, Nico.’
She was, Nico knew, looking for trouble tonight.
Hell.
Later on the night that neither can forget…
‘WE SHOULD HAVE got out.’
Aurora turned and looked at Antonietta as the three friends sat on the hillside, watching the ominous glow.
‘We’ll make it,’ Chi-Chi said. ‘There is soon to be a storm.’
‘And with storms come lightning,’ Antonietta pointed out. ‘I wish I had left. I wish I had taken off to…’ She thought for a moment. ‘Paris.’
‘But you don’t speak French,’ Aurora said.
‘I’m learning it.’ Antonietta shrugged, and then was silent for another moment before continuing. ‘Pa says we shall have a proper party after the fires. I’m getting engaged.’
Chi-Chi let out a squeal and jumped up in excitement.
‘To Sylvester,’ Antonietta added, and she looked to Aurora, who had to fight not to pull a face.
For Antonietta and Sylvester were second cousins, and Aurora was sure this was a match to keep money within the family rather than for love.
‘Are you happy?’ Aurora asked carefully.
Antonietta was silent for a very long time, and then she shrugged an odd response. ‘C’est la vie!’
Aurora didn’t really know what that meant, but she could hear the weary resignation in her friend’s voice and it troubled her.
‘I hear your Nico is back,’ Antonietta said.
‘He is not my Nico,’ Aurora said.
‘No,’ Chi-Chi agreed, and made a scoffing noise. ‘You should forget about him,’ she said. And then she nudged her as a fire truck turned into the hillside, bringing weary firefighters for a break, some food, and maybe a kiss…
But Antonietta caught Aurora’s arm. ‘If Nico is back, then what are you doing here?’
‘He doesn’t want me,’ Aurora said.
But Antonietta, though only newly twenty-one, had an old head on her young shoulders.
‘Go home,’ Antonietta said. ‘Fix what you can, while you still can. I heard my father speaking to his men about the direction of the fire…’
And hearing the solemn note in Antonietta’s voice, and watching the weary firefighters approach, Aurora no longer wanted to be out in the valley tonight.
This… Nico thought as he sat at the table with Aurora’s parents playing cards. This would have been my life.
Hard work out on the vines by day, and a tired body at night.
Except no amount of labour would be enough to tire his mind.
Yet, on the plus side, he would be sitting with Aurora in the now vacant house across the road, rather than looking at Bruno’s hairy arms as he shuffled the cards.
Just because Nico did not want to be married to Aurora, and just because Nico did not want to stay, it did not mean there was not desire. It did not mean he did not care.
And he loathed the thought of her out there tonight.
‘I’m going to check on my father,’ Nico said.
He found Geo deeply asleep, and as he came out Nico felt the hot winds lick his face. He looked at the glowing mountains, and the approaching fire spreading towards them, and in the distance he could see lightning strikes.
They were sitting ducks, Nico thought as he went back into the Messina house.
‘Bruno, can I borrow your car and go and get Aurora? The fire is moving fast…’
But Aurora’s work-shy brother had just taken it, Bruno said. ‘And anyway, Aurora will not thank you if you interfere