Giulia

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Giulia
Maria Gabriella Zampini

Maria Gabriella Zampini

Giulia

translated by

Andrew Fanko

A huge thank you to all those who have been so,

so patient

with me. You know who you are!

“Dammit!”

It just wouldn’t budge. Giulia turned the key both ways in the lock, put her shoulder up against the door and pushed with all her might….nothing. The damn thing was jammed.

She was a prisoner in her own home at 10 o’clock on a stifling August morning. Great! Giulia had arrived at her lovely little summer house by the sea at midnight after a final, utterly exhausting day at work.

Obviously, there had been no-one there to greet her. It wasn’t as if she could expect her sons to forgo a night of clubbing to welcome their mother with open arms!

So, not even bothering to unpack her case, she had collapsed straight into bed, looking forward immensely to a whole month of peace, quiet and doing absolutely nothing, and fallen into a deep sleep. And now this – marvellous! She gave the door another shove but succeeded only in bruising her shoulder.

“Fine!” she yelled at the door. “You win! I’m on vacation and I’m not about to get mad at anyone, not even you!”

She wandered into the kitchen and started singing to herself as she set about making a coffee.

She had always found that singing helped her to calm down. Some people counted to ten, others rolled their shoulders. She sang, much to the annoyance of whomever she happened to be with at the time. But Giulia figured the door wouldn’t mind, so…

Her singing had made her husband - well, ex-husband – want to throttle her. He had told her as much on a cold January morning ten years earlier, and that was the end of their marriage. At the time, she had felt like her entire world was crumbling around her, but that was a long time ago. Now, her life was rolling along pretty smoothly: work, kids, the occasional fling, her lovely little summer house by the sea...

She shot a filthy look at the door that was preventing her from doing what she loved the most: climbing down the rocks and watching the perpetual ebb and flow of the waves, filling her lungs with salty sea air and, best of all, plunging into the turquoise sea that had waited patiently for her for a whole year.

She was suddenly distracted by a movement outside the house. It sounded as though something heavy was being dragged away, and then the door flew open.

“Hey there!”

Stood before her bathed in sunlight was a figure with flowing jet-black locks and sparkling eyes of the same intense colour.

“You must be Ale’s mamma? I’m Leonardo. Pleased to meet you.”

In his early twenties and with a thick Florentine accent, the young man was broad-shouldered and wrapped in a sarong that showed off his lean figure, and he had a tan to die for...

“I had a bit to drink last night, you know how it is, so Ale asked if I’d like to stay here. I must have fallen asleep with my bag blocking the door.”

Slept here? But where? Giulia frowned, then decided a smile was the better option and extended her hand.

“Hi, I’m Giulia. And, yes, I’m Ale’s mamma.”

“Wow, the guys said you were hot but they never said you could pass for his sister!” he said with a cheeky smile.

Giulia sighed. She was always embarrassed when someone paid her a compliment.

“Oh, behave! You do realise that if you give me too many compliments, I may start to believe the hype?!”

It was her stock response. She had come to learn that it made people laugh and removed the possibility of any awkward silences. It worked yet again.

“Do you want some coffee? I’ve just made some.”

She poked her head out of the door and was met with an absurd sight: covering the patio as far as the steps leading down to the sea was a row of bodies sprawled out across a load of towels. Giulia reckoned there were at least twenty of them.

She turned questioningly to Leonardo, who chuckled.

“Sorry, I didn’t tell you, did I? Your son bumped into us on the beach last night while we were rehearsing for tonight’s gig. You might have heard us? He started to jam with us and said we could sleep at his place, you’d be cool with it... There’s only five of us, but there were loads of other people around and everyone kind of ended up here!

So that explained it. Typical Ale: meeting randoms out and about and inviting them back to the house. She was unsure at first. I mean, who were these people lying outside her house? What if they weren’t very nice? But she calmed down when she reminded herself that Ale was a sensible kid who mixed with the right crowd. In fact, she had become friends with them herself and even put some of them up before, but never twenty in one go!

Anyway, they were here now so she had to think of something. She opened the sideboard, located the big cafetière and put it on the stove.

Meanwhile, Leonardo had grabbed hold of the portable stereo she kept in her kitchen, taken it outside under the awning and started to fiddle around with the buttons. Thirty seconds later, a wave of sound invaded the house.

“Did I mention we do Afro-Cuban music?”

No you didn’t, thought Giulia, but there was no need: it was the only kind of music her son had played over the last couple of years. She was roused by the familiar sexy, pounding rhythm and began to move in time as she poured the coffee into cups of all different colours and shapes that she had laid out on a tray.

She stepped out into the heat of the summer, headed for the marble table in the centre of the patio, doing her best not to tread on any of the sleeping kids, and placed the tray down carefully. She sat on the bench and lit a cigarette.

Leonardo came and sat next to her, lit a cigarette of his own and turned up the volume on the stereo. The youngsters began to stir. There were some grunts, some yawns, some mutterings of “hey, what the fuck?”, and eventually a few dishevelled heads lifted off the floor.

“Leo, what the hell are you doing?” said one, in clear Roman dialect.

“Ah, so they’re not all from Florence!” thought Giulia, admiring the thick mohawk that adorned the head of the boy who had just spoken. The young man glanced over at her sleepily, slowly got his focus and staggered to his feet.

“Oh, err...sorry, Mrs...ermmm..”

“It’s Giulia. Do you want some coffee?”

The boy seemed taken aback as she reached over and handed him a cup.

One by one, the youngsters slowly came round to the persistent beat of the djembes. Giulia looked on, surprised at how many different hairstyles there were. One had a shaved head like her youngest son, one had magnificent dreadlocks like her eldest, another had a rather shaggy mane, and there was one, presumably a girl, who was seemingly just a big tangle of braids. And all that colour! One of the boys was dyed platinum blonde, while one of the girls had flame-red locks interspersed with tufts of electric blue. Giulia felt pretty inadequate with her naturally wavy, long brown hair!

Meanwhile, a stunning brunette had emerged from Ale’s room. As soon as she saw Giulia, she blushed, stumbled over and offered her hand:

“Hi, I’m Stella,” she ventured.

It was a pretty embarrassing situation, particularly for the girl. Giulia gave her a big smile and handed her a cup:

“Hi, want a coffee?” Stella relaxed and gratefully accepted the drink.

A tall, willowy girl with close-cropped dyed blonde hair rubbed her big blue eyes and looked around with a sense of bemusement. She turned questioningly to her partner, a dark-haired boy with incredibly neat hair and equally sleepy big blue eyes:

“Was ist das?”1 she said.

The boy shook his head, rose slowly to his full height of what must have been a good six-foot-two, approached the table, looked Giulia straight in the eyes and said, in English:

“Do you speak English?”

Giulia was a bit miffed. She was Italian, clearly, but of course she could speak English!

“Yes I do,” she replied, keeping her cool and handing out yet another cup of coffee. The boy thanked her with a broad smile, sat back next to the blonde girl and whispered something to her in German.

‘Wow’, Giulia said to herself, ‘quite the range of nationalities this year! Remind me to congratulate you, Ale, if you ever deign to join us!’

With the smell of the coffee infiltrating their nostrils, the boys and girls started to queue up for a cup, rattling off a string of names that Giulia knew she hadn’t a prayer of remembering.

“Giampaolo, pleased to meet you.” (the boy from Rome).

“Oh, hi. I’m Alessio.”

“Morning, I’m Benedetta.”

“Hey, I’m also Giulia!” (she wouldn’t forget that one).

“My name’s Roberta, great to meet you.”

Then there were a couple of Lucas, a Francesco, a Michele, two Valentines and an Edoardo.

Lastly, in English: “Nice to meet you. My name is Andreas.”

And: “Hallo, I’m Simone.” (the leggy blonde).

Suddenly, a voice made itself heard above the music and conversation:

“Morning, guys! This is my mamma, Giulia. She’s pretty cool, huh?”

“Son, if I’d waited for you to introduce me, I’d have been waiting all day!” she replied.

As always, Ale hurried over to his mother, gave her a big kiss and ruffled her hair:

“When are you going to go Rasta like me, Mamma?” he asked for what felt like the millionth time.

“You’d look awesome! Like a Marley-esque cougar who showed up to the Summer of Love fifty years too late!”

His words were met with a chorus of boos, and as Giulia, overjoyed that Ale’s friends had taken her side, returned to the kitchen to put more coffee on, someone changed the music and No Woman, No Cry came blaring out.

“This one’s for you!” yelled Giampaolo, poking his head round the door. “You are one hot mamma!”

It seemed like the kids were only too happy to stick around a while longer.

As Giulia put yet another coffee on, her mind drifted to the beautiful sea waiting for her just a few metres away, but she had no desire to see the motley crew outside her house leave just yet. Leonardo appeared at the door:

“Guys! There’s plenty that needs doing in here! Giulia can’t be expected to do it all by herself now, can she?”

Within seconds, the kitchen was full of boisterous kids, one of whom went to the sink to wash the cups, another grabbed a dishcloth to dry them, one of the girls (Roberta?) seized hold of a broom and proceeded to drag it around the floor, in between everyone’s feet, and someone else did some sweeping of their own, lifting Giulia up into their arms and carrying her carefully outside to the patio.

“You stay here, sit and relax. We do everything.”

Andreas looked at her with his intense blue eyes, made sure she was sitting comfortably on the rattan couch and disappeared back inside.

Giulia closed her eyes and shook her head: ‘Wow, some guys know just how to push your buttons, don’t they?’ she thought to herself with a frisson of excitement. ‘So strong, so tall, dark and handsome...’ She snapped out of it, feeling almost ashamed at having such thoughts. ‘Don’t be so stupid, Giulia,’ she reprimanded herself, ‘he’s just a nice, polite young man, nothing more.’ As she relaxed and stretched her legs out onto the table in front of her, happy that she’d kept herself in check, she saw Andreas out of the corner of her eye, coming towards her with a steaming cup of coffee.

“How much sugar?” he asked, sitting close to her.

“One, thank you.”

He added the sugar cube, took the teaspoon, stirred the coffee and handed it to her.

“Do you want a cigarette?” he asked, producing a pack of Camels from his pocket.

Giulia managed to muster a nod. She was loving all this attention, but wasn’t it a bit unusual? Or perhaps she was just imagining things as always. She’d been avoiding suitors for so long that she could no longer distinguish between kindness and flirting! She looked up to the sky, then as she turned towards Andreas for him to light her cigarette, she met his gaze: an ocean of blue she could just drown in...

“Morning, Mamma!”

The cheery voice of her confident fifteen-year-old son, Daniele, brought her crashing back to Earth and her role as a forty-something mother.

“Sweetie!” she cried, knowing full well it would put his nose out of joint, “I see you’ve managed to join the land of the living! I’m guessing you overdid it a little last night?”

“Maybe a bit,” Daniele admitted freely, “but Ale said I could go down to the beach with him and we had such a good time. We lit a bonfire, loads of people came and began to sing, then loads more people turned up! Have you seen how many friends we’ve made?”

He was bursting with pride that he and his older brother had been the catalysts for such a memorable evening. Giulia looked at him fondly, well aware how important it was to him that Ale, eight years his senior, treated him as an equal.

“Yeah, a right mess you’ve got me in to! Just kidding, darling,” she added, seeing the boy’s face begin to drop, “you know I love having all these people round!”

It was only then she realised that Andreas was no longer sat next to her. She breathed a sigh of relief, asked her son if he wanted breakfast (of course he did), went back inside and started to warm some milk.

Everywhere was absolutely spotless. The youngsters, now back outside, had done an incredible job.

‘If they keep this up, I wouldn’t mind them staying here the whole month!’ she thought to herself, unaware just how prophetic that was.

It was three o’clock by the time she realised she could wander down to the sea. The kids had taken their many scooters and their not so many cars (including hers) and headed for the most popular beach in the area - the one where it was so crowded it was a job even to put a towel down!

Not that they’d be needing towels; they’d gone to that beach so they could play their instruments and attract a crowd of guys with perfectly chiselled bodies and topless girls in thongs, which come to think of it was a perfect description of Giulia twenty years earlier! Just swap the djembes for guitars and Lucio Battisti1 songs!

She carefully rolled up her beach towel and put it in a bag together with a book (she always tried to read something in the summer, because in the winter she was too tired in the evenings and didn’t have enough time during the day), a bottle of water, a clip so she could put her hair up and some sun cream. She took one final look around to make sure everything was in its place and strolled over towards the steps that led her down to her beloved rocks.

It was a place Giulia knew so well. Her family had rented the house by the sea every summer for as long as she could remember, and she had always felt happy here, far from the madding crowd.