Rosamanti by Noelle Clark

Villa Jovis and the surrounding area where the action was to take place.
    The story buzzed in her mind as she walked down the track to Geraldina’s yard. Excited bleating and an over exuberant nuzzle greeted her. As she milked the goat, she talked through the story with her.
    “You see, Felicity comes to Capri at the request of a wealthy friend. She is staying in Anacapri at one of the most expensive hotels. One day, she overhears a conversation by some celebrity types sitting near her in the hotel dining room.”
    Geraldina was a good listener. She happily waited until Sarah was finished talking her story through, enjoying the company. When the milking was finished, Sarah walked back up to the villa. On an impulse, she kept walking, down the steep driveway to the road. Heading toward Capri township, she stopped at the next entrance. Pietro had indicated this one when they walked home last night—Carlo’s home.
    As she made her way up the steep and rocky pathway, two large dogs came bounding down to meet her, barking ferociously. The warm goat’s milk sloshed onto her legs as she jumped with fright.
    “ Basta, basta! ” Sarah recognized Carlo’s voice.
    The dogs stopped barking, but still milled around her, looking aggressive.
    “Signora! Hello!” His welcoming smile was a relief. The dogs began wagging their tails and sniffing at the pail.
    “Hi, Carlo. I wondered if your mother would like some milk from Geraldina. I’ve just milked her.”
    Just then, a stout woman in her forties came out of the door of the little stone house, wiping her hands on an apron strapped around her waist. Her head was tilted to one side, looking curiously at the stranger. Carlo fired off some rapid Italian, pointing to Sarah. She heard the word Rosamanti . His mother’s face opened into a warm smile, and she came toward Sarah, kissing both her cheeks.
    “Ciao, signora . Come sta? ”
    “My mother does not speak English, signora, but she understands OK. Her name is Teresa.”
    “Ciao, Teresa. Mio nome Sarah.” Sarah relished the opportunity to practice her Italian. She glanced down at the smiling boy, who looked rather pleased with himself. He reached up and took the pail of milk from her and went inside. A few minutes later, he came running out with it, all shiny and washed. He exchanged some words with his mother.
    “Grazie, signora. My mother would like you to join us for dinner tonight.”
    Sarah smiled broadly, very pleased at this unexpected invitation. She nodded her head. “Grazie . Piacere mio! Tell your mother I would love to stay for dinner.”
    The trio walked up to the small house and Teresa and Carlo warmly invited her inside. He pulled out a chair at the kitchen table where she could see the beginnings of a meal being prepared. When she was seated, he deposited a glass of red wine in front of her. Teresa smiled as she returned to cutting out squares of pasta with a special cutter, giving the ravioli a crimped edge. A large pot on the stove gave off a delicious aroma, its steam rising into the little kitchen.
    “Carlo, tell me about yourself. Where do you go to school?”
    While his mother happily looked on, busy with preparing the meal, Carlo proudly displayed his proficiency in speaking English.
    “I am in Santa Sofia’s school. Next year, I go to Napoli for school. For secondary school.” He glanced as his mother, his eyes not glowing as they normally did.
    “Naples? Aren’t there any secondary schools here on Capri?”
    “Si. Yes, but they are expensive, and…” He shrugged his little shoulders.
    “And, Carlo, does your father live here too?”
    Carlo picked at a crumb on the scrubbed wooden table. Teresa’s smile disappeared, and she focused on rolling out pasta dough. Sarah wished she hadn’t asked the question—it was obviously intruding. Before she could take it back, he looked up at her with his big brown eyes.
    “My father lives in Roma, signora. It is just my mother and me here.” An uneasy