A Life By Design

Chapter 4 Settling In

CHAPTER 4

SETTLING IN

Emilio and Elena disembarked from the plane, picked up their luggage, and made their way outside the Milan airport. A row of buses lined the kerb and crowds formed outside as others were assisted with their luggage onto the back of the bus.

Emilio glanced at his sister. She was pushing along her suitcase as if feeling the weight across her back. Emilio wrinkled his nose and wiped his brow. Smells of exhaust fumes and burning rubber penetrated his nose. They caught up to the line and waited behind other passengers who eventually made room for them at the front of the bus.

Emilio had the address of the woman they’d be staying with. He recited the address to the driver who looked at him with a bored expression.

“It’s a fair walk from the bus stop.” He gave Emilio directions.

Emilio thanked him and found a seat with Elena out front with her belongings. He felt a headache coming on as he waited for other passengers to enter until the bus drove off, jolting over bumps and passing out of the airport. The tall buildings and skyscrapers blinded him. He peered through the window and came across art and historical museums, galleries, theatres, universities, and towering monuments. It was such a busy and spectacular city.

He was in awe of the excitement and adventure coming his sister’s way, but he would miss her once he left. He’d worry about her as well. She was naive in the ways of the world. An uneasy feeling chilled his body. Maybe Elena wasn’t as resilient as she thought. Being in the village was different, but out here there were a lot of strange people, particularly strange men. She had to be extra diligent in who she trusted.

The bus eventually stopped in Lombardy. Emilio and Elena were the first to exit the bus while the other passengers trailed behind, knocking him in the back. He sighed as passengers pushed and prodded him towards the exit.

They heaved their luggage off the bus. He hoped they didn’t have too far to walk to their new residence.

As they ambled their way to the set of apartments, he watched a man playing the guitar on a second-floor balcony. Potted plants lined the ground, and clothes hung over rickety railings. The timber-framed windows were weathered, and the concrete building was cracked and worn. Was this where they were going to live? He had a bad feeling about this, but he wouldn’t jump to conclusions. Looks could be deceiving. At least they had a home and somewhere to settle, so he couldn’t complain.

From what his mother had told them, he knew Nunziata lived on the bottom floor. He knocked on the heavy door and waited. Turning to Elena, he noticed her frown. She shrugged but said nothing.

A short, chubby woman with green eyes and grey hair set in a bun opened the door. She pursed her lips. Her eyes felt like they were boring into Emilio’s soul. A cold feeling swept through him. He was worried for his sister.

“You must be Emilio and Elena. I’m Nunziata.”

Elena put out her hand. “Pleased to meet you.” The woman ignored the hand and swung the door further open.

“Well don’t just stand there. Get in. I don’t have all day.”

Emilio swallowed and turned to Elena, whose face had turned beetroot red. It was only the afternoon, but he felt like it was going to be a long day.

“I’ll show you to your rooms. You’ll have to share as I don’t have any other room.”

Emilio looked around the foyer and found grimy bare walls, a huge pot filled with an artificial plant, a big statue of Jesus facing one of the rooms, and a clothes rack.

Nunziata opened the door to the room across from Jesus. Inside were two single beds, an armoire, a drawn window that seemed to filter in light, two gold-coloured lamps, and pictures of Jesus and Mother Mary above each of the beds. The room was medium-sized but tidy enough for their simple needs.

Nunziata turned to both of them, looking them up and down with a grunt. “Now, dinner is at 6.00pm sharp but every other night you’ll be cooking your own food. I don’t give any handouts.” She took a breath. “And I expect you to do chores tomorrow. No questions.”

Emilio put up his hand. “Any chance we could have a drink?”

The woman squinted at him. “If you must, I’ll show you to the kitchen and you can grab one yourself. There’s a jug of water in the fridge.” She headed back the way they’d come, and Emilio followed. When he turned back to Elena, she looked on with a shake of her head.

Who was this woman? Why was she so rude and cold? It would be expected that after a long trip they’d want a drink. How would poor Elena ever cope living this way? He wasn’t staying long, and then she’d be on her own. Elena was most likely leaving one prison for another. Was he leaving her in good hands?