A movement on the second floor catches my eye. Near a set of French doors that open onto a small balcony, I see someone staring at me. He doesn’t seem to care that he’s been caught. I stare at him and he stares right back.
It’s hard to see him properly because of the glare of the sun on the glass, but he seems to be quite tall and slim, with dark, brooding features. A little too brooding. It almost looks like he’s giving me the stink-eye. I wonder if this is Signor Desiderio Larosa? And I wonder if I’ll have to say his full name every time I address him. It’s quite the mouthful.
“Amber.” Felisa’s harsh voice makes me tear my eyes from the window. She’s standing at the back door with two children on either side of her, a hand firmly grasping an arm on each one. The children are cute—you know, for kids—but they look just as brooding as the man at the window. In fact, I know they’re giving me the stink-eye.
“This is Alfonso and Annabella,” Felisa says, yanking the children forward toward me. Both kids let out little grumbles and cries—not from pain, it seems, but from having to come over and meet me. Can’t say I blame them.
Up close they are both cuter and angrier than I thought. They are also clearly twins who look to be about six or seven years old. Both of them are in uniform: white polo shirts with a crest, navy pants for him, pleated skirt for her. Shiny shoes. They both have the same bright brown eyes, thick dark hair, full lips, strong noses, and prominent brows. I have a feeling they’ll grow up to be classic beauties when they’re older, though they’re already very striking right now.
They are also striking out. Alfonso smacks Felisa’s arm with his hand, yelling, “Non mi tocchi!” Which I gather means, Let go, mean lady.
Felisa’s grip is tight and she smiles at me grimly. “Alfonso doesn’t know his manners yet. We have been trying, but he is very disruptive at school. Likes to push kids down. Always in trouble.”
Oh great. I’d be taking care of a bona fide bully?
Felisa jerks her head at Annabella, who is staring bitterly at an empty spot on the ground. “Annabella doesn’t talk much but is the same. You have to be more careful with her. She’s very smart.”
At that, Annabella lifts her eyes to look at me. It’s like staring into the fiery pits of hell. Or into the face of a female Damien from The Omen. I half expect a Doberman to come trotting out of the house and lie down beside her.
Didn’t Felisa say the children would be the easy part? Charming house, stunning view, and Capri location aside, I’m starting to rethink the whole job. There better be a hell of a benefits package. Of course, I know there won’t be, and I’m one step closer to leaving.
As if sensing my hesitation, or simply reading the blatant fear in my eyes, Felisa lets go of the children. They quickly run back into the house without giving me a second glance. For the first time today, Felisa looks worn down and I notice the exhaustion pulling at her crepey eyes.
She sighs and sits down across from me, folding her hands on the table. “You seem like a strong girl, and only a strong girl will be able to handle those two. They aren’t normal children, not like the ones you might know.”
Oh my God, they’re vampires, I think. Funny where the mind goes.
“When their parents died, everything changed,” she continues. “They were five when it happened, two years ago. They were very different. Always very bright, but that is because their mama and papa were bright, especially mama. But they were kind, too. Considerate. Very well behaved. People would walk past this house and talk about the mama and how successful she was, how papa was such a strong figure in town. They would talk of the house and how beautiful and well kept it was, and of course about the Larosa children. ‘What darling children,’ they would say. ‘What a brave, handsome older son.’ Now they hurry past this place, either in disgust or in pity. ‘It is such a shame,’ they say now. And they shake their heads and carry on their way.”
There’s real pain in Felisa’s voice and I have so many questions to ask that I don’t even know where to begin.
“How long have you been working for the Larosas?”
“Since Desiderio—Signor Larosa—was born. Twenty-nine years ago.”
So the brother is twenty-nine. Interesting. “And you’ve been here ever since?”
She nods. “And I am getting tired. The kids are getting to be too much.”
“But my job is just to teach English, right?”
She nods again, sharper this time, not looking at me. “Yes. They need better English than they get at school.”