The Photo Album

Our postman, Noddy, is usually punctual. At nine o'clock he delivers letters and parcels in our neighbourhood. He is a bit eccentric but of a friendly nature.

His actual name is Patrick but he wasn't keen on being addressed as 'postman Pat' so he suggested we call him Noddy, as he was on nodding terms with all of us, and the moniker stuck.

Very respectful of social distancing, he knocks on the door after leaving the post on the doorstep. When I open the door he is already at the end of the drive. He briefly turns back and waves before walking away.

This morning I find a hefty parcel. I am keen to see what's inside and tear the wrapping paper. It is a personalised photo album with a beautiful handmade leather cover. It is the one Uncle Jeremy mentioned over the phone yesterday and I guess it was my mother's as it has the initials FM.

I put the album on the coffee table and go to switch off my Bialetti percolator that is bubbling away on the hob. The rich aroma of the Arabica beans reaches my nostrils inviting me to savour my morning treat: a continental breakfast consisting of a jam croissant and a double espresso. Black, two sugars.

Only after I have eaten my petit dejeuner  I am ready to see to other chores.

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As I expected, the first dozen or so of the photos are of old people, most probably granddad, grandma, maybe an aunt Edith or Mabel and various other relatives all equally unknown to me but part of my mother's past.

Then the inevitable progression of a child from infancy to adolescence before a sequence of snapshots of an adult woman. One in particular draws my attention, that of a young girl gazing adoringly at a handsome polo player. The name Ferenc Sandanski is written on the back.

There are several pictures of people on horseback playing polo, a portrait of two smiling men sitting side by side at a table on which a cooler with a jeroboam of champagne stands and a caption that reads: Ferenc and Justin resting between chukkas.

Several shots of a girl horse riding and show jumping follow until I come across a picture that not only catches my eye but makes me jolt. It was taken on the grounds of Buckingham Palace for some sort of occasion It is undated and shows an old man described as Prince Massimo of Alborello, Cavaliere, accompanied by his two sons Justin and Jeremy.

“PRINCE?”,  I exclaim astonished. I have always thought that my paternal grandfather was a humble Sicilian farmer and here I am confronted with aristocracy.

I have to call Uncle Jeremy right away. He must enlighten me.

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The phone rings for a long time before he picks it up  I can hear music in the background: “Jacques Loussier plays Bach”.

”Hello, your Excellency, am I interrupting your siesta?”

© Luigi Pagano 2020

see also https://www.abctales.com/story/luigipagano/ticking-boxes and previous episodes