The Quilt (53 page)

Joanne’s father gave her away.  
Randal Kyle is a distinguished and successful man.  He lives with a woman half his age and only has a distant relationship with both his daughter and granddaughter.  I really don’t understand this driven, cold and detached person.

“Sime!”

Simon walks out of the restaurant and looks anxiously for a chance to escape.  Too late Brooke determinedly wraps her arms around his legs.  He picks her up awkwardly and places the child on a table.  He looks fondly at her.   Jason appears at the door and wipes his hands on a towel.  They exchange a secret smile.  It was difficult for Simon to make the decision to sell the business and move to the island.  After all, his future lived within the café walls. He is a talented chef; even Mari has begrudgingly acknowledged that.  I watch Simon remove the sodden towel from Jason’s hands before they disappear in to the restaurant. Now that they are here we have the opportunity to step back and allow our young people to carry the load. 

Sid and Sean are returning from the beach.  I can hear their raised voices.  Before they reach me I know they have caught fish.  Sean places his arms around me and kisses my head.  I recoil from the smell of bait and the sharp odour of salt. 

Sid grins lopsidedly.  His stroke last year was minor.  He says his stroke last year was a blessing – it made him step back, it made him slow down.  I am not so sure.  We are getting old and each day is in itself a blessing.  We now move slower and look at beautiful things for longer.  Why does it take losing someone you love to appreciate them?  Why does it take losing your health to make you want to live?  I sigh. 

I still have to pack
, and I only have three days to do it.  I look forward to seeing Capri again and watching the tiny boats far beneath me.  I look forward to sipping Limoncello on the tables sitting amongst the brightly painted buildings.  I look forward to seeing Italy through the eyes of my friends.

“Dadda!”

My son walks around the corner.    Paul hesitates when he sees Chloe enveloped in Joanne’s arms.  A shadow of sadness passes over his handsome face.  I wonder if he thinks about how his life could have been.  How the tragedies that brought Joanne to him, could so easily have kept them apart.  Paul looks tired.  He spends more time on the boat now that he is a skipper, now that Geoff has moved back to the city. He walks over and kisses me lightly on the cheek.

“Would you be able to look after Brooke this afternoon?  I would like to take the Harley out for a ride
, and Joanne could do with some time away from the vineyard.”

“Be careful
.”

I try to look stern.

“Of course,” he glances at Joanne, “we are going to the beach to eat fish and chips.  On the way home I thought we would call in to see Forrester.  He has been sober for one year today.”

“P
lease can you get the cards?”

Brooke doesn’t wait for a
reply.  She runs into the restaurant and returns holding the bulging album that is now full of our postcard memories.

I sink back in my seat and beckon to my granddaughter to join me.  I pour a small amount of our infused smoked garlic and organic lime o
live oil into a dish, I raise my glass of wine to the light.  This is our best Reserve to date.  It is mellow and velvet on the palate, and deep rich red against the sky.  I smile at the Mermaid on the label and the gold medal she boasts. 

I listen to Simon in the background, he sounds exasperated.
I hear Mari speaking rapidly in Italian.  I hear the soft teasing water washing over the gritty sand in the bay below.  I hear the gulls shrieking as they soar on the thermal waves.  Yes, life is good for us at Marinella, life is good for the Clarke family here on our island.

“Life is for the living, but
too often not truly lived until that life is all but lost” - Rc