The Child Back from Afar E-Book

Stefano Ferri

• Herausgeber: Robin Edizioni
• Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018

Beschreibung

Mother and son. A past of love and hatred, loneliness and ingratitude. A mysterious woman, with a tragic memory nobody believes. The ghost of a double, dead since decades. A story of sorrow. Vengeance. Forgiveness. And redemption.

Leseprobe

Stefano Ferri

The Child Back from Afar

Translated by Stephen Irons and Saint-Just

For my mum

(1930-2011)

I

«Someone’s looking at you».

Anna spoke out these words very softly – too softly to let them be heard, in such a vast and crowded bookshop. Even the person they were addressed to didn’t perceive them. «What?».

«Someone’s looking at you».

«Who, sorry?».

«Look on the right, next to the desks». And then, promptly: «Don’t turn your head».

Renato took a few steps in that direction. Then he raised his face and glanced at the cashier’s desk.

There, among the people queuing, he picked out the one who was looking at him.

It was a middle-aged woman in her fifties, even sixties – medium height and very thin. This thinness was the detail he first noticed and that discomforted him even if Renato didn’t understand why.

The lady’s eyes were stuck on him like a Post-it stuck to a wall, and seemed not to have the slightest intention of giving up. She looked at him without any discretion. It was as if she had entered only to square him.

«Seen?», Anna said.

«She’ll have mistaken me for someone else», he murmured.

When he happened to be spotted by potential competitors, Anna was quick to let them out and check his reactions – always feigning indifference.

This time there was really no need to pretend to be indifferent, and the two engaged simply continued their shopping tour.

They got to the department of the novels in original language, Anna’s speciality and an admiration factor by Renato, who could only speak Italian. He promised to browse a few pages of whatever his partner was going to choose.

«Which one would you take?», she asked grabbing two of the latest releases.

Renato pointed to the book that Anna was holding in her left hand. «This one».

«Why?».

He didn’t answer immediately. He lingered a few seconds on the girl, smiling with self-irony. Anna knew the reason behind that attitude – now and then she even tried to provoke it.

They were a beautiful couple; this was at least the opinion of many, not of all actually as envy lurks everywhere, but most of the people acknowledged them as such. Not only had she beautiful looks – curly auburn hair, wiry body, light freckles insensitive to time and countless other details Renato was fond of. She also had a degree and a job in the city college. This was a strong stimulus for him, who was approaching an age in which university studies can only be pipe dreams.

Perhaps it was due to their mix of complicity and competition, that someone called them the most beautiful couple in the world – an exaggeration for sure.

«Well, I like the cover», Renato said at the end.

Anna sighed. «Long live sincerity. Let’s go and p...».

She paused. Renato was still turned in her direction and thus she was the one to realize that the unknown woman had reached them. «Excuse me, guys».

At these words Renato spun around. And he saw the admirer closely.

It was an old-fashioned lady, surely in her sixties, her forehead and face marked by wrinkles looking a bit deeper than you would expect at that age. Her thinness still didn’t fit, who knows why. She wore a beige mixed linen dress, covered by a matching cardigan. Even her shoes were of the same colour. Probably she went crazy for brown.

She had a sad but lively expression, typical of someone who is self-confident, as attested by the obstinacy with which she had targeted and reached her preys. Overall it seemed the wrong person in the wrong place. «Excuse me... could you tell me your name?», she asked Renato.

«Why do you want to know it?», he replied.

The lady continued to stare straight at him; the feeling was that she even worshipped him. He was getting bothered. He would have been curious to see Anna’s grimace, but he preferred not to get distracted from that weird face-to-face meeting.

«You are the living image of my poor husband».

***

«A double?», Anna urged her.

Renato tried to ease the tension that suddenly had come up. «It happens, though rarely».

«Be patient», she blushed, «but as soon as I saw you my heart got up to my throat».

«Why?», Anna asked.

«You see», she explained, «so many years ago I had a serious accident. I had just given birth and I was going home with my husband and the baby, as we collided with a truck. They both died, I’m alive by a miracle, even if for a long time – very long, believe me – I wished I had died with them».

Her voice rose while saying these things. Her eyes remained sad, and it was easy to deduce why, but the words came out clear and with no thrills. Who knows how many years it took her to make sense of such a disgrace, Renato considered. Provided that the lady was telling the truth: she could also have been a pathological liar.

«Since then», she continued, «I have been living alone in the house where I lived with Ernesto – my husband – surrounded by pictures and memories. My sister, her husband and her children gave me the company I needed not to fall into depression. And today I received the gift, unexpected and surprising, of meeting the perfect clone of the only man in my life. Obviously, I’m not proposing you to take his place...», she added with a bitter spirit.

Renato stared at Anna, but she didn’t return it. She handed to the lady an awkward smile. After all, what kind of expression could you ever address to a person who comes out with a story like that?

The scene kept silent for a while, hanging from a complex web of embarrassments and melancholy. It was once again her, the mysterious woman, who got to break the ice: «What’s your name?», she asked Renato, smiling.

«Renato», he said.

The lady’s smile broadened. «You are identical, it’s amazing», she said stifling a gloomy enthusiasm. «It seems to be back to those days...», and dug her hands into her purse, brown as well.

She pulled out her wallet, opened it and took an outdated passport photo: black and white in a white box. «Judge for yourself».

Renato reached for it but didn’t make it: Anna, more curious than him, had already got the image. «Two dead ringers, aren’t they?», the woman suggested.

The boy and the girl observed the picture, looked bewildered to each other and got back over it. «Yes... actually», Renato admitted.

The man in the photograph was different from him only in the smile, less friendly than the fin-de-siècle ones, as well as in the length of the hair. As for the rest, chapeau madam, your eye is truly clinical. «You are just the same», Anna commented clearing her throat.

Renato wanted to look again at the picture. The guy, Ernesto, displayed the same receding hairline, the same clear eyes and the same lanky expression. His face was lean like his, his lips as thin as his. If a time machine was available and Renato could have left 1996 to take a picture of himself in the past, the outcome would have been as such.

He gave the photo to its owner. «There’s no denying...», he said, «somebody up there looks like me».

«Up there, you are right», the woman commented redeeming the card. «He was a wonderful man». She closed her wallet and rummaged in her purse again, this time to look for a handkerchief. She mopped her forehead, rubbed her eyes and held out her hand to Renato. «My name is Gisella».

«Nice to meet you», he said. Anna shook her hand too.

«Renato», sighed Gisella, «May I ask you to come with me for a moment?».

They both followed the widow – who approached the counter, asked the cashier for pen and paper and wrote down a short text.

«There you are», she said as she handed him the note. «This is my name, address and telephone number».

Renato glanced at it. Gisella Ardesi, via Passo Rolle 56, 215...

«When you’re willing, please call me», the lady encouraged him. «I will always be happy to meet you. Would you mind giving me your contacts as well?».

«All right», he agreed. It didn’t seem appropriate to refuse. After all, you can easily skip phone calls just by not answering.

«Give her the mobile number», Anna whispered, looking for a loophole to protect him.

Renato followed the advice, and for extra safety he omitted his last name too. With complete data, such a resourceful woman could have found his home address in the blink of an eye. «Here you go», he said, and handed her his first name along with the mobile phone number.

«Thank you», she smiled, as polite as always. «So, goodbye», and she approached him sketching a hug.

He touched her cheeks. Now she’s going to say that even my skin is identical to her husband’s, he thought with rude sarcasm.

But the lady didn’t remark further. She kissed Anna and silently walked to the exit, limping. She reached the glass door and went out in the sun of the boulevard, towards the pedestrian precinct beyond the porch. She took a lot to get swallowed up by the raucous crowd.

The two young guys looked at her totally oblivious of the love and rivalry horizons that had framed their Saturday afternoon till that moment. «You gave her a fake number?», Anna asked.

Renato hadn’t even thought to lie. It wouldn’t have seemed fair. But he well understood the scruples of his girlfriend. A devil warned him that this meeting would have aftermath. «No, I wrote the actual one», he answered in a whisper.

II

The call came sooner than imagined. It was short after half past eleven on Sunday morning when the phone rang. The display didn’t give food for doubts: it showed the 02215etc identifying Ardesi Gisella.

Renato and Anna got themselves immediately right and for this time they decided not to give in to the temptation to get rid of her. The lady, with her voice that seemed an opposites’ anthology, at the same time gentle and firm, shy and bold, invited them for a coffee at Lambro Park, north-east area of Milan, in front of her house. In a first moment, Renato hesitated, but then, driven by Anna, he decided to accept.

The plan was to go to Gisella, stay with her half an hour, take a walk in the area and let her gracefully down at last. Thanks for the nice afternoon, maybe we will contact you in the future, we wish you all the best – in short, a polite invitation to go to hell.

This was the proposed strategy while they headed toward piazzale Loreto and the periphery.

Renato wasn’t quiet. The photo of the dead man was beating on his memories with the unnerving regularity of a metronome – Ernesto, Ernesto and yet Ernesto.

However, working up the courage was enough: it was a matter of an hour at most, and then both that unscheduled episode and its bizarre annexes would have been over.

The trip turned out smooth. Once parked, the boy and the girl crossed the park through meadows full of couples, children, people cycling and unleashed dogs, drawing a sense of happy-go-lucky freedom. Finally a spring that’s actually a spring, he thought. In the previous years there had been storms until May.

All of a sudden Gisella popped up, sitting at a table in the bar under the plane trees. The light from behind crowned her by flickering between the leaves and the gazebo roof, with its wrought-iron arabesques. The lady didn’t see them right away; Renato and Anna were to identify her first, as she was the only customer of the place.

They had just started up the steps when she became aware of them and got up. «Hi guys!».

Renato greeted her with a strong handshake. Anna did something more and touched her cheeks with two formal kisses. «How you doing?», she asked.

I’m doing like yesterday. «Fine, and you?», asked Renato.

«I try my best not to complain», said Gisella with her usual smile, this time streaked with bitterness. Of the dissolution of her family she must have made a habit: years don’t pass in vain, but it was understandable that Renato’s face would restore both the illusion to be still in front of her husband and the anger for such a ruthless fate.

The waiter came. The two ordered a Coke and a peach juice (be my guest, Gisella had premised). Renato preferred to keep quiet for a while, leaving to the chatter among women the task of starting the real conversation – a conversation he imagined all focused on himself and his similarity with the deceased spouse.

«What are your jobs, guys?», the lady asked after the pleasantries.

«I work in a company, in the accounting department. She is finishing a PhD», Renato said choking the usual envious instinct.

«A doctorate! In which subject?».

He looked as if it was all about sour grapes and turned to Anna. «Please tell it on your own, I don’t even know how to pronounce it...».

«Psychopathology of development», Anna helped him.

«Which is?».

«It’s the study of the development in childhood and adolescence as well as of its possible pathological outcomes», she explained. «Children sometimes display affective disorders, such as in cases of excessive dependency on parents. We analyse the causes of these problems and try to prevent them».

«Beautiful», Gisella said. «If I had raised my son, I could have needed your help».

It’s already the baby’s time, Renato considered, fearing, from then on, a dialogue based on dead people and hurtful memories. He stole a glance at Anna as she looked like answering: what did you expect? a talk about movies?

There was nothing to be expected, actually. It was only to resign, to ease with the Coke the spiritual weight of the meeting, and to find consolation by thinking it would be the last for sure.

Renato lingered over Gisella. She showed up slender in her beige blouse with red inlays – a blouse that would have turned tight to so many but which appeared big for her. And, struck by a sad insight, he realized what had impressed him about that thinness.

It was the age.

The ladies who were sixty years old in 1996 had been mothers in the Sixties, a time when, for reasons Renato was unaware of and not interested in, women were used to getting gorged after maternity. They all became bulimic. It had happened to his mum, the neighbours, his classmates’ mothers and any acquaintances giving birth as far as he remembered.

A shiver caught him while admitting that Gisella had no one left, really no one, neither to cure her postpartum diet nor so worth gaining weight – provided children actually need a fat mum, but after all every era has its myths and its stupidities.

Gisella’s voice shattered his reflections. «Tell me more about you, Renato».

He didn’t have much to say. «I’m an accountant», he told. «I didn’t go to college: I preferred to start working and I don’t regret it because mine is a good living today». His handsome salary was the factor that magically re-established the balance, in the pair as well as in his self-perception. «We are getting married soon, Anna and me».

«Oh, good!», congratulated Gisella. «When?».

«We haven’t decided yet», participated Anna. «This autumn I’m finishing my doctorate. Then we’ll see what’s what. Anyway, in a couple of years or so...».

«Where are you from?», she interrupted her. «Your accent doesn’t sound Milanese».

Anna confirmed. «Actually I am not. I’m from Sicily, from the inland. I came here to study, and here I met him».

«Very good», cut short the lady, to whom Renato interested definitely more than his girlfriend and her origins. «What about your parents, Renato? Whom do you look like?».

«I was sure you would have given me this question», he winked.

«Of course!», said Gisella almost laughing. «How couldn’t I want to gather about the guy you took this resemblance to Ernesto from!».

«I must disappoint you: I don’t know», he replied. «My old ones broke up when I was an infant and my father died still young. I don’t remember him: I’ve just seen him a few times in photography. As for my mother, no, I don’t look like her».

«I’m sorry...», mumbled Gisella. «Do you get along with your mum?».

Renato didn’t hesitate to tell the truth. «I have no relationship with my mother, I haven’t seen her for ten years, since I finished school».

«Ten years, seriously?».

«Eleven», he pointed out.

«Renato is my field training», commented Anna. «He is the classic case of an adult to whom something went wrong as a child. I’m trying to deepen and sooner or later I will understand. Maybe that’s why I decided to live with him...», and she laughed.

Renato laughed too, grateful for that soft pause.

«Let’s say you don’t risk of not getting along with your mother-in-law», remarked Gisella joining the broad panache – stirring it up indeed.

Everything died down in a matter of moments, after which muteness spread. Neither Anna nor Renato had the courage to ask her about herself, they preferred to leave her the initiative – an initiative that Gisella, predictably, was diligent to maintain. «So, you might have taken a bit from your dad and a bit from your mother, and the result is Ernesto».

Here he is again. «Yes, I have also taken something from my uncles... I am a mix actually».

«The shape of your eyes and mouth comes from your mum», Anna said.

«Yes», Renato confirmed, «eyes and lips come from her».

«As for your character and attitudes – did you follow your family or even the talent to accountancy is original?».

Renato pointed his thumb to his chest, mimicking pride. «It’s completely original. My mother was a saleswoman, and since she’s remarried she’s done simply nothing, she lives life in the fast lane in the US with her husband, an American financier. As for my father, I just know he was a gynaecologist, which means being as far as possible from finance and accounts».

«Gynaecologist?».

«Yup».

«Was it him who gave birth to you?».

«I have no idea...», murmured Renato hinting to open his arms. «My mother bore a grudge against him and never talked to me about».

«Childbirth is a difficult experience; having someone to help you live it is great, you know».

«I think so».

«Fulvio’s birth was dramatic», murmured Gisella, her gaze fixed on the invisible screen of memories. «He wasn’t lucky there either. Thirteen days, only thirteen days was he given to remain in the world, and in that short time he suffered and saw more blood than in a lifetime. Just think, he was breech».

«Poor him...», Anna said.

«Of course these are not issues today», continued Gisella. «Ultrasound is now on hand: the baby is followed step by step until birth. If he’s placed in the wrong position, the doctor gathers it ahead and figures out what to do – but once, no sonogram was available. People entered the birth room blind. Only after a long labour one deduced that something was wrong. And to me it took twenty hours».

«Twenty hours of labour?», uttered Anna.

The lady confirmed. «So much it took the midwife to see the feet where there should have been the head. Eventually they ran into the operating room and I underwent a Caesarean, but complications followed as well: while mending the uterus the gynaecologist broke a vein and caused a haemorrhage. They practised a transfusion otherwise I would have ended up bled. What a bad luck, wasn’t it?».

«You can say that again...», commented Renato observing the uncomfortable expression of Anna. What a bad luck, and – it was to be added – what an impertinence telling two strangers such a story.

«I could see Fulvio only the day after», concluded Gisella. «Neither Ernesto was able to enjoy him from the beginning, because he was not allowed in the operating room, as is practice, and he was forced to go out ahead from the birth room as well. He hadn’t felt good: he almost fainted and needed a sedative. I was detained two weeks in hospital before getting back home with husband and son and... taking them to the graveyard».

«Oh my... what a tragedy», said Anna softly, shaking her head.

Renato asked himself how many chances of becoming a father he actually had, now that Anna was terrified by such a report.

His girlfriend bestowed a tight smile. And he took note of having been a prophet, easy though it was in that situation: regret overflowed from the words of Gisella like a mad river, overpowering the delicacy of her tones, obscuring her expression, treading a dark hood on the three of them all.

«The day I was dismissed it was raining», went on the lady. «A fine drizzle had made the road slippery. We didn’t take much care of that, nobody paid any attention to these things then; just think there wasn’t even the obligation of car seats for kids. I arranged Fulvio’s wheelchair in the back seat, then I sat in the front one holding him in my arms. Ernesto made me buckle up – neither that was required – and such was the scruple that saved my life.

«When we got here, a ray of sunshine popped up. The rain stopped. Ernesto accelerated, perhaps in a hurry to get home. At the intersection with via Passo Rolle a truck suddenly appeared before us. My husband tried braking but the car swerved, crashed into a pole and then went down on to the truck.

«I just remember the child slipping from my hands and smashing through the windshield. He got squashed under the truck. In the next days someone had the cuteness to give me the details. Ernesto died on the spot too, his chest broken by the steering wheel».

She took a short break. «That birth was an omen», she concluded then.

No one knew what to add. The silence stretched out like mist on that table surrounded by the voices of a cheerful Sunday out of town.

A cloud darkened the sun. Among the omens that one would do as well. «What do we do now?», Renato asked – he didn’t know what to say.

«Just nothing», answered Anna. «It’s a beautiful day and our glasses are filled. Let’s toast to tomorrow».

Gisella, resting her elbows on the table, slowly stroked her neck. By now she had taken a negative momentum and couldn’t hold back anymore. «I’d like to tell you something, guys», she muttered returning her gaze on Renato and unveiling some tears – tears not affecting either her posture or her tone. «I confess that these days I lived a magical feeling. It was as if in front of me there was Fulvio».