“Ciao, signora.”Sarah turned and smiled at him. “Ciao, Carlo. Come on in.”He sniffed the air and licked his lips.“I’ve been baking. I made some Australian biscuits—biscotto—for you to try.” She took the dish towel off a plate, revealing the large, golden brown cookies, glistening with the goodness of honey and oats. “They’re called Anzac biscuits.”His black eyes shone with anticipation as he reached out and took a biscuit. She watched as he bit into it, noticing his surprise that it was chewy rather than crunchy. Sarah waited patiently until he had eaten the whole cookie before he rewarded her with his opinion.“Questo cibo e molto buono, signora!” The enthusiasm in his voice helped her translate.“So, you like it?”“Si, oh yes. Very good. Mm.”“Good, then when you go home today, you can take them with you for supper.”They moved into the drawing room where Sarah showed him the pages written by Nonna so long ago.“Can you tell me what this says please Carlo?”Scrunching up his eyes, he studied the tightly written script intently.
