After a few minutes I decided that maybe Giovanni had changed his mind. Maybe I wasn't the kind of young woman he was looking for to be his maid. I decided I would count to 300 and if he hadn't come by then, I would gladly disappear.
My heart start beating like crazy and I put both hands over my chest.
The carriage came to rest beside the fountain. Giovanni put aside his notebook and stepped down, all the while smiling his charming smile. He extended one hand to me. "Buon pomeriggio mia cara ragazza," he said. "Good afternoon my dear girl." He bent over, and his curls, fluffy and thick, fell forward as he lifted and kissed my hand.
"Ciao," was all I could get out. My throat was dry and my tongue felt too big for my mouth. I ignored his hand and grabbed the side of the carriage and pulled myself up. I sat down next to the notebook and noticed a page filled with black scribbled writing, much of which had been crossed out. Giovanni climbed in.
"Ah, just ignore all this," he said, "closing the notebook."
"You are writing while you ride in the carriage?"
He chuckled. "My dear I am writing while I sleep! I cannot keep from writing all night and all day -- tutta la notte e tutto il giorno!"
That made me smile, to think of someone writing in the dark all night long.
Suddenly, I noticed several villagers gathered around the carriage. There were a few older women I knew, and any one of them was bound to tell my mother what they had seen. What was I thinking? How could I possibly do what I was doing but keep it all a secret?
Giovanni told the driver to proceed through the portal.
I was nervous about looking in Giovanni's direction. As we began the trip to San Lucido, he asked me a couple of questions: "Have you ever travelled outside the village?" and "Have you lived here your whole life?" I answered no and then, yes. So then I asked him two questions: "Where are you from?" and "What are you doing here?"
"Ah, that's only fair. So I am from a small village in Tuscany called Volpaia. I have spent most of my life there except for visits to see my father's family in Florence. Oh and vacations elsewhere, including Paris."
I nodded. A wealthy northerner, for sure. Travelling to Paris was as likely for me as flying to the moon.
"And I am here because I wanted to get as far away from my family as I could, at least for a while."
I wanted to ask more questions. Why was he trying to escape his family? How long was he planning to stay? And one other question in particular. At first I decided I was too shy. But then I thought, "Why not ask?"
"So, Giovanni, do you have a wife travelling with you?"
Without turning my head, I looked sideways and saw him shake his head. "Oh no, don't worry about that, my dear Filomena!!"
And then I wondered, did he perhaps have something against marriage? Was he a confirmed bachelor -- uno scapolo confermato? Or worse, un Casanova?
He leaned toward me. "Please call me Vanni, would you? All the people I love in this world call me by that nickname."
My face turned very warm, and I felt a rush of emotion swarm through me. I didn't know what to say so I remained silent. I felt fear mixed with great great excitement.
After that we were silent. I noticed how pretty the ocean was as we travelled alongside it. The waves were lively, rising large and then falling in pools of white froth. I remembered a time when my Papa was still alive, he and Mama and me went swimming together, and Papa carried me on his shoulders into the cool green water. I remembered Mama wrapping me in a linen towel and carrying me, cold and shivering, across the sand.
And then I was back in the carriage and before I knew it, there stood before me a house, no no no, it was a villa bigger than anything I'd ever seen before. It was a gigantic square block, with three or more stories, decorated with arches and huge windows, and a black iron railing across the front. It stood on a hillside above the ocean and was surrounded with huge palm trees.
"So Filomena what do you think? Is it big enough for you?" Giovanni had stepped down from the carriage and was standing on the stone driveway, with his hand extended toward me. I wanted him to see me as someone who could take care of herself so I refused to give him my hand, and I jumped down to the driveway instead.
"I think it will not be easy to keep this whale of a house clean," I said, trying to sound a little miffed. "I hope you don't expect me to work like a slave." Instantly I regretted saying such a stupid thing because who knew what he expected me to do?!
"Oh don't be concerned about that at all!" He laughed his easy laugh, one that suggested he was now in complete control over me. I was seeing myself from his eyes and I didn't like what I saw. A naive young woman wearing the only good dress she owned.
I followed him across the cobblestones. Bright red flowers grew alongside the long driveway. I saw my worn leather shoes and wished I could hide my feet. Soon I was at the monstrous wooden door, beautifully carved with swans and other birds and then I was standing on a thick blue carpet, sinking into it. I have never seen or felt such a luxurious carpet. Giovanni pulled on a giant satin rope, and a bell rang. Soon, a tall man in a black suit opened the door.
"Greetings, Signor," the man said.
"Greetings, Pietro," Giovanni replied, nodding his head at the man.
The first room of the villa is one so grand that I cannot fully describe it. The ceiling rises to a towering height. It might fit 100 people, or maybe two hundred or maybe even more! The floor is the most beautiful pink and white marble. There are white marble sculptures, too, mostly of nude women, in every direction. I kept silent but I turned my head this way and that trying to take in the majesty and beauty. Strangely, the room had a positive effect on me. It started to give me confidence. I told myself, "Filomena, you have been selected to visit this remarkable villa. You can be proud of yourself that you have had this honor bestowed upon you by a man who seems to like you very much!"
I held my head high. I decided that I had control of this situation so long as I kept my wits about me.
"Pietro, this is Signorina Filomena Scrivano, and she has agreed to help out while I am here at Le Palme." Pietro nodded in my direction.
"And Filomena, this is Pietro, our principal butler. He has been with me and my family for many years. There are others you will meet, too. Right now though I would like you to meet my friends from Florence.
"Where are they Pietro?"
"On the terrace Signor."
"Good. Pietro, will you please ask Sofia to bring four glasses of Fragolino out to the terrace, and make sure she adds plenty of strawberries to each glass?"
I saw Pietro smile for the first time, and I wondered why. Was there something about this drink that I should know?
"Filomena, please come with me." I followed Giovanni across the pink and white marble, which was polished to a high sheen. We passed through a double glass door, out onto a terrace that led to a grand staircase that gradually descended all the way to the sea. To either side of the staircase was a long row of giant palm trees. Flowers grew in huge pots in every direction. I stood there and thought, is this really happening to me?
"Look at you two, sleeping the afternoon away!"
I turned to my left. Giovanni was speaking to two young men, sitting in reclining wooden chairs. The first thing I noticed about them was their hair. Both of them had long wavy hair that fell over their shoulders.
"Oh there you are Vanni! We need our beauty rest, no?"
"Filomena, may I present Edoardo here. He never gets enough beauty rest. And Tullio, who never gets enough to eat."
Both of the men stand up and bow.
" "Ed and Tully, may I present my new friend Filomena Scrivano who is also a writer like the three of us."
"Please take a seat, Filomena." I was about to ask Giovanni if it isn't time I get to work, but something stopped me.
We sat down in two long chairs where we raise our legs up. I was mortified to see how ragged my boots looked. So when Giovanni slipped off his canvas shoes, I took off my leather boots and slid them under the chair. I kept my dress tightly covering my legs. In those days, hair grew to a long length on my legs, and it made me self-conscious. br />
So there we all sat: me in the company of three men! I thought about Mama and how horrified she would be.
It's at that moment that a short round woman appears carrying the drinks on a silver tray. She handed each of us a tall crystal glass filled with a reddish purple wine, along with a long spoon. "Grazie," I said. Suddenly I felt silly. Aren't I supposed to be a servant helping too?
Maybe Giovanni can read my mind. "Filomena, I'd like you to meet Sofia, our housekeeper. She is the person you will be helping tonight at dinner."
Sofia smiled at me and nodded.
"It is nice to meet you," I said, feeling awkward. This afternoon I am a guest and tonight I will be a servant? God help me I was so confused.
Sofia left, and we sat in silence, sipping our drinks. Then Tullio pulled out a sheaf of papers.
"So are you ready for the next chapter?" he said.
"Yes, go forth brave writer!" said Edoardo.
Giovanni turned to me. "You see what we do here Filomena? We spend all our time writing and reading out loud to one another. It helps to ferment the imagination.
" I nodded.
Tullio began reading. The story was about a young man named Victor who travels to a "far off land" where he is being pursued. He ends up in a forest. He wanders for a long time and finally decides to climb a tree. At the end of the chapter, he decides he prefers to stay there. It's a very odd story indeed.
"Not to worry, Vanni, I know exactly what will happen to him."
"But of course you won't tell us will you?" asked Edoardo.
"You know better than to ask," Tullio responded. I was wondering if I should say what I thought. But how could I possibly criticize this brilliant man when I've never written a story!
Giovanni turned to me. "So my dear Filomena, what do you think? Would you like to hear more of Tullio's novel?"
"Oh, well, you are writing a novel!" I said. "That is remarkable!"
"Yes, it will be remarkable," Tullio said, "that is, if I ever finish it!"
"There is only one thing I am wondering," I said. "Where could he be that there is such a thick forest?"
"Ah, yes, good question," Tullio said. "Honestly, darling girl, I have never myself seen such a forest, but I hear tell that way up in the north, such forests grow."
"Oh but does it even matter?" asked Giovanni.
"Well, no, not really," Tullio replied.
"You see Filomena," Giovanni said, turning to me, "the lovely thing about writing stories is that you can do exactly as you please, making up whatever you want to!"
I nodded. My head was starting to spin. It was thrilling to be among real writers! But I also had drunk about half the tall glass of wine, down to where the strawberries were piled on the bottom. I noticed that my mood was improving by the moment. I inhaled the salty ocean air and stared at the waves crashing on the beach in the distance. Suddenly I realized tat the nervousness that I had been feeling on the ride over from Paola had completely melted away. I even felt a little playful.
"So is this part of the maid's job, listening to wonderful stories?" I asked Giovanni.
As if she knew to appear then, Sofia returned. "Signor, your guests will be arriving in about an hour," she said.
"Yes, yes. I guess you are needed now, Filo. But I hope you will join us again? Tomorrow perhaps?"
I shrugged. "Uh, yes," I said. "I guess so." I was having a bit of difficulty focusing. I set my glass down and put on my boots. "See you," I said, waving to the three men.
"Ciao," they said in unison.
I followed Sofia back into the villa and down a long hallway. When we got to the kitchen, she introduced me to Giuseppe, the chef, a very hefty man with a red face. His white apron, tied tight around his bulding middle, was heavily stained with spaghetti sauce and red wine.
"I am grateful to make your acquaintance," he said, bowing deeply.
"Thank you," I said, feeling like some kind of royalty.
But then, without warning, Sofia knocked me off my pedestal!
"Yes, this is the maid who somehow is also a guest!"
My mouth dropped open. "I...I hope you don't think that was my choice, to sit there on the terrace just now."
Sofia smiled, but her eyes narrowed. "Let me show you where to change into your uniform. And your shoes." She looked down at my scuffed boots and honestly at that moment I wanted to kick her in the shins!
The rest of the night was frightening, because I had to serve a big table full of rowdy guests, carrying heavy silver trays. I was used to housecleaning, but not at all experienced serving.
Giovanni was busy with his friends, and drinking a lot of wine, and he didn't introduce me, which was just fine with me. Once or twice, I caught him gazing at me as I served salad, and then later as I set soup bowls down in front of each person dining. I had to focus carefully, so as not to spill the stracciatella -- egg drop spinach soup -- into each person's lap.
Every person at the table looked like no one I had ever seen. There was a woman with long blonde hair, blonde! And around her neck was a thick gold chain, with a large diamond ring, glittering in the candlelight! She wore dark eye make up and bright red lipstick. Every time I looked at her she was drinking from her wine glass.
Next to her was a man who was bald, except for a long lock of black hair hanging down his back. He had on a shirt with a large white ruffled collar, which looked so uncomfortable to me! And with it, a ruby red velvet vest. And in one ear, he had an earring!
I saw a woman in a pink silk gown, with a plunging neckline that exposed the top of her bosom. Her fingers were filled with rings, with sparkling gems of different colors.
Giovanni was wearing the powder blue shirt, but his vest was made of brightly colored woven fabric, perhaps made by his family's factory?
Oh it was so hard to keep my attention fully on my work!
The next course was bracciole, in spaghetti sauce. "Be very careful," Sofia warned, and I vowed not to make a mistake. The meat was cut in thick slices. It smelled heavenly of garlic and parsley and cheese, and it made my mouth water. And half-way through serving it, I realized that I hadn't eaten anything all day. No wonder I was so dizzy.
I went back into the kitchen and confided in Sofia that I was starving.
"I'm sorry Filomena but you are working now. Somehow you think that you deserve special treatment. But you will have to wait to eat until after the dinner party is over."
My face turned hot, and I was tempted to say I was not going to stay for the rest of the dinner party. But then I realized what a mistake that would be. I picked up the next tray and left the kitchen, to serve the rest of the bracciole. I was very proud of myself that I served the whole platter without splattering a single drop of spaghetti sauce on any of the guests.
When I got back to the kitchen, Giuseppe called me over to the stove. He set his finger to his lips and then took my hand and set a thick piece of cheese into my palm. I smiled at him. I stood at the stove and gobbled the cheese up in three bites. Then he slid a small plate over to me: on it was a chunk of the bracciole. I ate that too, facing the stove, with my fingers!
He smiled at me and I squeezed his arm. "Signor, you are a saint and a divine chef!" Giuseppe smiled triumphantly.
That food kept me from fainting! I finished serving the main course and had a short break before it was time to collect plates. During that time, I stood at the counter -- out of sight of Sofia -- and ate a chunk of bread, which Giuseppe had cut and buttered for me.
I carried 12 cups of panna cotta to the table, and was able to serve them with no difficulty. I followed this up with tiny cups of espresso. By this point in the evening, I found myself smiling to think I had survived my first day at the villa.
When I had collected all the dishes from the table, it occurred to me to ask when I would be able to leave. But Sofia answered my question, saying I was needed to help wash and dry all the dishes too. Naturally, I thought, who else is going to wash them?
When I had collected all the dishes from the table, it occurred to me to ask when I would be able to leave. But Sofia answered my question, saying I was needed to help wash and dry all the dishes too. Naturally, I thought, who else is going to wash them?
When I had collected all the dishes from the table, it occurred to me to ask when I would be able to leave. But Sofia answered my question, saying I was needed to help wash and dry all the dishes too. Naturally, I thought, who else is going to wash them?
It was close to 9 p.m. when Sofia and I finished washing and drying the piles of dinner plates, salad bowls, dessert cups and wine and water glasses and all the pots and pans. As we finished, I thought to myself "can I really do this job day after day?"
I was just removing my apron, wondering how I would get home when I looked up. Giovanni was standing in the door of the kitchen. His eyes looked reddened by wine.
My face was sweaty, and my hands and arms were red from plunging into hot water. I was not in the best mood and I think Giovanni could tell. He wasn't smiling.
"So, how did your first night go?" he asked.
"Oh, you know, it went well," I said. "A lot of work though. As you might expect." I nodded. "I must get home now," I said. "My mother will be upset if I am any later."
"Of course."
"I will change my clothes and..."
"There is no need. Just take your own clothes home with you."
"Oh, of course." I didn't want to say what I was thinking: I'm not sure I want to come back.
Once again, it was as if he could read my mind.
"So do you think this is too much work for you Filomena?" Giovanni approached me. I could smell his cologne and I worried that he could, unfortunately, smell me too.
"Well, I'm ...I'm not sure. I'm used to working hard, but this is...different...and difficult."
"I hope you know that whatever you are earning at your other jobs now, I will pay you more."
"More? May I ask how much more?"
"What are you making now?"
"Ten lira to clean a house," I said.
"Oh, well, I will pay you three times that to start. How does that sound?"
"Uh...that sounds wonderful."
"So you agree?"
"I...I guess so," I whispered. "But right now I am feeling quite...tired, Giovanni, and...confused, so I would like you to take me home."
"But have you eaten?"
"I had a little bit."
"You are dizzy my dear because you have not had a proper meal. Sofia always has her dinner beforehand, and it's my fault that you didn't eat first. I will have Giuseppe fix you something..."
"No, no, I'm sorry but I couldn't possibly eat anything. Please, please I just ...I must get back to Paola."
"Yes, alright, I will arrange that immediately. But I need you to tell me that you will be coming back tomorrow, please say yes?"
"Tomorrow?" I couldn't think straight. "I guess so...oh...no...no, I think I need a few days, say, Thursday?"
"Thursday, OK, but not so late as today. How about we say ten? Or eleven?"
"Eleven. No. Noon."
"OK then, noon, by the fountain, I will see you..."
"No no, not by the fountain, too many people there could see me, uh, how about outside the portal on the road. I will be walking."
"As you wish!" Giovanni left the kitchen and directed Pietro to get the carriage. And just before I walked out of the massive wooden door carved with all the birds, Sofia brought me my boots, polished to a high black sheen.
I looked at her and she raised her face so as not to look at me.
As the carriage, with the silent driver, brought me back home -- Giovanni hadn't accompanied me -- I felt like I had been having a dream all afternoon, some of it very good and some of it not so good at all.
At some point on the way home it occurred to me to wonder why he wanted me back at noon? Wasn't I there just to serve dinner? What were my other duties going to be? I felt my eyes closing, but soon, I was back in Paola. As I jumped down from the wagon onto the ground, I realized that I was going to have to tell Mama something about what had happened! "
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