“And you’re her mother. They told me. Hair the same. Skin, maybe the same. Eyes, definitely. Younger than me. Little bit of a thing, Carmela. Short. Bouncy. Fun to be with, Carmela. Loved flowers and the sea and walking. Could walk the legs off a sailor, that one.”
Serafina rubbed her forehead. “When did she leave?”
The prostitute considered. “Left with a soldier, I don’t know, about two, three years ago. Said she knew him. From before and all.”
“Do you know where she is now?”
Gusti held her lower lip. “My friend, Carmela. Told me she didn’t want anyone to…no family to know where she was. Not Rosa. Said Rosa knew her mother. Sad and all, but she’s my friend. Not in danger. Happy.”
Serafina felt tears prickle. “We haven’t heard anything from her. At least now I know she’s alive. When you write to her again, would you tell her that we need to talk to her? We have some family news for her. Not good. She must know.”
Gusti nodded.
Serafina blew her nose. She was silent for a moment, blinking. She thought of what her children would say when they heard that Carmela was alive and happy. First bit of good news since their father died. They’d be thrilled, of course, all of them except Totò who didn’t remember Carmela, and Maria: who could guess what her response would be to anything? She must write to Carlo.
The prostitute continued. “And then there was that big girl, came here about the same time as Carmela. Thought I could trust her, but I was wrong. She didn’t last long, I tell you. La Signura got rid of her, presto.” Gusti reached into her pocket for a handkerchief and wiped her forehead. “And what was that big one’s name? It’ll come to me. Her arms, can see them now, arms like a gunner’s. Wait. Yes, Eugenia, that’s her name. Had a laugh like a mule. Anyway, the three of us were friends, I mean, not all together, not like the three musketeers and all, but I was friendly with Carmela and I was friendly with Eugenia. Until, you know, the bad things happened with her. But now they’re both gone. Like the wind, one hour it blows over Oltramari, and by that very afternoon, would you believe, it’s in Enna. Well, after what’s been happening in this house, I keep myself to myself, I do.”
Serafina thought that Gusti’s words flew like bullets but in different directions at once. She asked, “This Eugenia, you say she didn’t last long. Do you know why?”
Gusti shrugged, then thought better of it, pulled her chair closer to Serafina and whispered, “My customers, generous, always giving me pearls, stones, gold bracelets. Rosa lets us keep those. Couple of us had things stolen. I got scared. We talked about it one day in town. When we got back, someone went to Rosa, and boom, Eugenia was gone. After that, well, you can’t be too careful.” She fingered her pearls and waited for Serafina to stop writing.
“Did you ever see Gemma, Nelli, Bella together? Were they friends?”
Gusti paused to consider before she responded. “Well, Bella and Gemma, I used to see them talking together. Not a lot. Maybe Lola with them, too. Lola with Nelli of course. The four of them together? I might have done; I think they used to sit together. Well, no, because Lola was with Rosalia a lot. Poor little thing. Not robust in the head, Rosalia. Hard to figure out, that one. Like that wind I told you about, only, blowing this way one day, that way the next. As I said, I keep to myself.” Gusti shivered. “Once or twice we’d all go to town, a bunch of us, not often, you know, order a caffè at Boffo’s, sit and watch everyone in the piazza and make jokes. And they maybe would sit together, but no, come to think on it, they weren’t together a lot. More like Lola with Nelli until they had a to-do, then Rosalia with Lola.”
“Bella went with you to town?”
“No, Bella was different, more like me and Carmela, only quieter. Not so bouncy. Getting on, Bella. Lots of talent, too. She kept to herself unless she was sewing for someone. Well, of course, you know, Bella made our clothes, the ones for special occasions. Bella was usually sewing for someone. Except for when she wasn’t.”
“Rosalia?”
“Hard to figure, but as I said, dim. Given over a little too much to tales and all. Miracles and the like. But one time when we were in town, all of us, like I said, one of the times Turi drove us, we piled in the carriage, a few of us on the rumble, we went to the sea near the cove. Carmela was still here. She and I, we took a walk on the shore and as we were coming back we saw Rosalia. Beating her fists on the pebbles, she was. In a state, the little minx, like a bleating lamb, her dress a shambles, her blonde hair all messed. Saw Eugenia bending over her, Lola looking out to sea, Prudenza off a ways, waving at us to hurry, the others with their arms crossed or letting the wind blow their skirts, ribbons flying, all of them laughing. Well, Carmela and I, we got there and I took one look at Rosalia and stooped close, don’t you know, and told her to pick herself up and stop the bawling.”
“What did she do?”
“Obeyed. Learned that if you talk to her serious and all, she’d stop her little girl acting.”
Serafina held up her hand. “Wait.” She flicked pages back and forth and her fingers flew as she wrote down the jumble of Gusti’s words.
“Does any of that make sense? Oh, I don’t know, how do you expect me to remember everything? Really, too busy I am, truly busy. Hard work, this. Pays well if you keep up a steady stream. In and out, that’s how I like them. But it’s hard work. Unending. No lolling about. I’ll write to Carmela tonight or tomorrow, if there’s time. And I have the most vigorous customers. Hard to take notice of the other girls when you work as steady as me.” She tightened the belt of her robe.
“Have you seen any strangers hanging about lately, I mean, from the time of their deaths?”
“Strangers? How would I know?” She heaved her chest, looked around the room.
“What about visitors? Any of the women have visitors? Gemma? Nelli? Bella?”
“Visitors? You mean, not customers?”
Serafina nodded.
She shook her head and picked at a fingernail. “Wait, now. Bella, she had a visitor. Not a customer, I can tell you.” Gusti turned around, and for a second or two stared at the blackness outside the window, as if she saw someone. A customer? Another prostitute? “Brrr, too cold tonight to talk.”
“Should I send for some caffè?”
Gusti hugged herself. “Not enough time. We’ll be done soon, won’t we?”
“You were saying, about Bella’s visitor?”
“An old woman called on Bella. Used to come once or twice a week. Funny creature, that’s how I remember her-not her mother.”
“How do you know?”
“Didn’t look at all like Bella. And from a different class. Carried herself like a snooty duchess or something. All bends and bumps and angles, that one. Hair tied up in an old rag, but her clothes were gorgeous and oh, la, the jewelry. Really. Usually had bundles of clothes with her, perhaps for Bella to mend? And one time I saw her all fitted out, almost didn’t recognize her. Dressed herself up she did. Had a gorgeous frock on, all fringes and beads and feathers. Flowing. And, oh, the furs. Quite the figure she had, too, for an old cow. All made up with rouge and white powder and all.”
“Strange company Bella kept,” Serafina said.
Gusti hunched forward. “Maybe Bella was her seamstress. Helped all of us with our sewing and, as I say, made a gown for Gemma. Made lots of frocks for Rosa, for Tessa, too. Rosa paid her well, but Rosa, you know, can afford it. Don’t mistake me, I love Rosa. Knows how to treat us. Leaves us alone. Knows how to put some of the bossy ones in place, I can tell you. But she favored some of the girls, too. I’m not one of them. Rosa wants us all to be close, like a family, and we’re not like that, no.” The prostitute looked down, whisked a bit of dust off her shoulder. “And I’ve got an honest mouth. If I don’t trust someone, I say so, and to her face. But talk like that, well, Rosa doesn’t want to hear.”