Tuesday 26th September – eveningPeppina’s back. She comes into the room, looks me up and down, then ignores me. She’s in awful shape, fat with unsightly varicose veins showing through her flesh-coloured pop socks. A maroon dress tight around her stomach and loose around her chest. And a pendant depicting Mother Mary on a gold chain round her neck. Her hair is pulled back and tied into a loose pony tail with a big, black slide.
The door is open, I can hear that my kids and Mark have also arrived. Zia and I follow Peppina into the garden. Peppina sits down and folds her arms as if she were in a huff. She turns her face to her left, bends her head down a little, and spits on the ground. “Vileno,” she says.
“This is my Aunt Peppina,” I say introducing her to my family.
Humps says he’s pleas
