When my family went back to Sicily, when I was aged fifteen, my grandfather had already died. My grandmother in Sicily had a similar lifestyle to Zia’s in London: family, friends, drinks, and cake. Hospitality is a Sicilian custom. Guests are always welcome. But there was a big difference between the entrance to my grandmother’s house and Zia’s house. Grandmother’s front door was always wide open during the day. My aunt Peppina used to go and pin the door back at 6.30 every morning. From then on women, mostly dressed in black, would parade in and out of the house until sunset.
My grandfather died years before my grandmother. She died at a ripe age. Just like Zia, grandmother was a widow for years. Left on their own, aunt Peppina and grandmother used to squabble no end. Aunt Peppina had ne
