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Book Description
Italy, 1963. Graziella Bianchi returns to Paradiso, barely able to believe she has been gifted her
childhood home by an old friend.
The beautiful house has fallen into a state of disrepair, but Graziella is determined to restore it to its
former glory.
Although one dream has come true, life is far from perfect. She and her daughter, Lucia, are nearly
penniless and the pair are on the run from Graziella’s violent husband.
With divorce not yet legal and the law still giving husbands ultimate control over their wives,
Graziella must fight not only to gain her independence, but also to keep her daughter.
The villagers of Pieve Santa Clara, with their long and loyal memories, step in, and gradually a good
life becomes a possibility for Graziella and Lucia.
But when her estranged husband turns up, drunk and angry, everything Graziella has worked so hard
for is under threat.
The Daughter of Paradiso is a compelling and emotionally-charged historical novel perfect for fans of
Dinah Jeffries, Lucinda Riley, Angela Petch and Rhys Bowen.
Extract
This extract comes from Chapter 1. Graziella is visited at her house, Paradiso, by a builder, Pietro Castello. Paradiso is in a bad state, run down and unloved, and needs huge amounts of work. But Pietro is an old friend of Graziella’s family, and in this part of Italy, that means a great deal...
Until my money came through all I could do with Paradiso was to clean it, which was no small undertaking. Once I had swept away the bugs and cobwebs, I began by scrubbing down the inside walls with bleach to kill off the mould, but quickly realised that I was probably doing more harm than good. The plaster had soaked up the previous seasons’ damp like a sponge and now I was adding more moisture. I needed to light the stove, but I didn’t want to purchase firewood yet. The little bit of money that Marina had lent me was dwindling quickly and I was reticent to spend any more of it.
I did have my mother’s savings of 110,000 lire stashed away in an account, which by now should have amassed a bit of interest. I didn’t want to start drawing from that, though. It was money for Lucia, for her schooling and for her future. I never wanted her to be in the position I had been in, forced to end her education prematurely for lack of financial support. How grateful I was that I had placed it out of the way in a savings account where, despite having tried his best, Gino had not been able to take it.
As I cleaned, I compiled lists of things which needed to be done. There was a hole in the roof which had to be seen to as a matter of urgency. It was that which had caused the water damage in the bedroom. Some of the shutters required attention, as did the rotten north-facing windows, two of which I didn’t dare to open for fear that the glass might fall out. The whole house could do with a lick of paint, inside and out, as well as repairs to the rendering. The list was long and very probably expensive. Still, I thought, I was now a home-owner, so I had responsibilities and those involved spending money, so just as well that a tidy sum was coming my way soon.
Pietro Castello turned up the day after our first meeting and found me attempting to scour the rust stains off the bath tub. He seemed unperturbed by the general condition of the house.
‘It’s a sound old property,’ he said, deftly rolling a cigarette and placing it in his mouth without lighting it. ‘There’s nothing wrong with it structurally. It just needs a bit of looking after. your Papá did a fine job of restoring it. It was in a far worse state than this when your aunt inherited it.’ He paused for a moment and laughed. ‘Of course there was no bathroom then, which was the way in all of these old houses. People made do with tin baths for washing and thunder boxes for their ablutions. It was your father who insisted that an inside bathroom would be a good idea. But your aunt said she didn’t need anything so fancy. What a to-do trying to convince her!’
The only urgent thing which concerned Pietro was the hole in the roof, particularly as there was rain forecast. He took one last drag of his unlit cigarette, flicked away the imaginary ash and threw it on the ground, then he got into his van, saying he’d be back in a jiffy. Ten minutes later he returned with several dozen roof tiles. I had no idea from where he could have sourced them so quickly as the closest place for purchasing building supplies was in Cremona.
He squeezed himself through the small attic skylight and with an arrangement of ladders and planks which looked so precarious that I could hardly bear to watch, he shimmied his way across the roof with a stack of tiles tucked under his arm and set about patching the hole. Then, in a second feat of acrobatic bravery, he poked the mud and grass out of the gutters with a stick. Within an hour Pietro Castello was safely back on the ground. I promised that I would pay him as soon as my money came through, but he just gave my shoulder a little affectionate squeeze and said, ‘Don’t worry about it, Graziella. Your Papá got me out of so many scrapes and I never got the chance to pay him back all the favours I owed him.’
‘But what about the tiles? I’ll pay you for those.’
‘Ah, well, they were from someone who owed me a favour.’ Pietro tapped the side of his nose as though what he was about to confide was for my ears only. ‘And now he’s paid me back without knowing it.’
Author Bio
Francesca Scanacapra was born in Italy to an English mother and Italian father, and her childhood
was spent living between England and Italy. Her adult life has been somewhat nomadic with periods
spent living in Italy, England, France, Senegal and Spain. She describes herself as 'unconventional'
and has pursued an eclectic mixture of career paths – from working in translation, the fitness
industry, education and even several years as a builder. In 2021 she returned to her native country
and back to her earliest roots to pursue her writing career full time. Francesca now resides
permanently in rural Lombardy in the house built by her great-grandfather which was the inspiration
for the Paradiso Novels. The Daughter of Paradiso is the third of the Paradiso Novels, following
Paradiso and Return to Paradiso. The Lost Boy of Bologna, was also published by Silvertail Books.
Social Media Links
Twitter https://twitter.com/FrancescaScana2
Insta @francescascana2
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