I press the soil around the tomato seedling, water it, and sit back on my haunches. It’s mid-morning and the Sicilian sun is already hot on my back. I pull the cowboy hat low on my brow and stand. Straightening my aching back I start walking back towards the house. Tasha should be home soon. Ivan, our second son, came over to take her to the market to buy crabs for lunch.

I pass by the olive grove where all Tasha’s dogs are buried. Every single one and there have been many. Even Sergei. She had his body exhumed and brought it here to be buried close to her.

As I walk, I see our daughter, Tatiana — who should be in her own home today — running towards me, and I immediately freeze.  Then I start running towards her too. We meet near the wooden swing that Tasha and I sit on to watch the sunset while we eat and drink vodka.

‘What’s the matter?’ I ask, catching her by her forearms. Her eyes are red. She has been crying.

‘It’s Mama,’ she pants breathlessly.

It feels as if my heart stops with fear.

‘What has happened?’ I demand.

‘Ivan has had to take her to the hospital. She slipped on a wet patch in the market and fell.’ Her eyes fill with tears. ‘Oh, Papa, Ivan had to carry her because she couldn’t walk. He’s been trying to call you, Papa, but no one answered the phone.’

‘I was working on the land.’ I pull her along with me. ‘Come on, let’s get to the hospital now.’

‘Your hands, Papa.’

I look at my hands. They are streaked with soil. I wash my hands in the kitchen then we get into her car and she drives us. The hospital is nearly forty minutes away. I try to call Ivan repeatedly, but his phone is shut off.

‘They probably don’t allow phones at the hospital,’ Tatiana says.

‘Can’t you drive faster?’ I ask my daughter.

‘I’m going as fast as I can, Papa.’

Inside I am cold. I start praying. Please, don’t let her be in pain. Give me that pain. I can bear it better than her.

In thirty minutes we reach the hospital and rush in. We ask at reception and they point us to where Ivan and Tasha are. We rush to the emergency ward and I see her lying on a gurney. She looks so small and vulnerable. I rush to her and she smiles at me through the pain.

‘My life, my life,’ I whisper.

‘It’s only a sprain, but I was trying to persuade them to give me some morphine anyway,’ she says with a grin.

Tears of relief come to my eyes. Oh, God! I cannot even begin to imagine my life without my Tasha. She used to tease me by calling me the strong and silent type. I don’t mean to be quiet, but when I speak she stops talking, and my ears ache for the sound of her voice.

‘I thought your leg was broken. Tatiana said Ivan had to carry you,’ I say.

‘You know what Ivan is like. He’s worse than you. I could have easily walked, but of course, he insisted on carrying me. It was embarrassing, actually.’ She scrunches up her nose. ‘People probably thought I was too old to walk on my own or something.’

I touch her face, running my fingertips on her cheeks. ‘You are the only seventy-year old woman I know without any wrinkles.’

‘Have you been looking at a whole pile of seventy-year old women again?’ she asks with a laugh.

‘I haven’t looked at another woman since the day you sneaked into my office in your sexy pink cardigan.’

‘Oh, you old flatterer, you.’ She laughs and it makes my heart beat slower. She’s fine. She’s fine.

‘It’s the truth. You were the most beautiful woman I ever saw and you still are.’

She smiles. ‘And you, Noah Abramovich, are the most good-looking fucker I ever saw.’

‘Are you being hot on purpose?’

She winks. ‘What do you think?’

‘We’ll see if you’re so cocky once I get you home, you saucy wench.’

‘Will someone wrap my damn ankle up quickly so I can get the hell home?’ she says grumpily, and then goes and spoils the effect by laughing that beautiful laugh of hers again.