Lanterns in the Dark - 1. Chapter 1

Even during the long, hot days of the summer, the deepest truths are sometimes learned in the darkness, when the sun has spent its fury and the distractions of the daylight hours have given way to the mellow strains of the evening.

In the Italian mountain town of Ravello, perched high above the Amalfi coast, dusk lasts for a long time, as the sun dips below the rugged peaks on the far side of the Valle del Dragone long before it falls below the curving horizon of the Tyrrhenian Sea. During this time, and long into the night, the people of the town come out to play. Decorative lanterns illuminate the ancient streets, stairs and walkways. People – locals and tourists alike – congregate in the cathedral square, enjoying the warm nights, fellowship, food and wine. Distant music drifts over the square from classical concerts in the Villa Rufolo gardens, celebrating the annual Ravello Festival. With no school to go to, even the children stay up late, passing the time with family and friends, making the most of the cooler temperatures.

By day, life passes at a languid pace. It’s too hot to rush about. Among the olive groves and pine trees, the cicadas celebrate the summer heat, scraping their hearts out in search of a mate. Pigeons and feral cats potter about here and there, searching for scraps of food, or simply rest in the shade. The people, or at least the wise ones, keep out of the sun.

Not so much the children. Or, at least, not always.

* * *

For thirteen-year-old Daniele Ferrero, the two months that followed the fall of Ettore Neri’s protection racket would prove to be a time of learning and change. Friendships would rise and fall, and nobody would escape the season unscathed.

Life in Ravello was slowly returning to normal following the arrest of the repulsive Ettore and his young associates Filippo and Antonio. The subsequent resignation of the Carabinieri chief Benito Leggero had set tongues wagging for a while, but, in Ravello, the status quo had an unfailing way of reasserting itself. The new police chief, Valentina Forza, was widely considered to be a good sort, and she was a local girl to boot. There had been no further incidents of vandalism or violent crime, and the collective consciousness of the town quickly moved onto the coming summer swell. By mid-July, the hotels were as packed as ever, and the music festival was in full swing.

Freed from the routine of school, Daniele spent most of his time with his new friends Giacomo and Emilia. Daniele and Giacomo, in particular, had become inseparable, whether they were playing games together, exploring the hills and valleys around the town, or simply sharing an ice cream in the cathedral square.

Somewhere out there, Daniele knew, there was another boy who was lost and alone… but, as far as he was aware, none of them had seen Marco for weeks.

Occasionally, to ring the changes, Daniele would also hang out with his other crowd of friends, a group of older teenagers that he had got to know the previous year. Such was the case on the sunny Saturday afternoon our story starts: one of those crystal blue summer days when it feels like a crime to be anything other than happy and free.

* * *

Daniele stared out to sea, one hand raised to his brow against the glare of the sun, which sparkled on the deep blue wavelets. For a second, he could have sworn he had seen something else amidst those bright stars of light.

Whatever it was, he had lost track of it now, and the glare was beginning to make his eyes water. He dropped his gaze. Leaning over the handrail, he watched the clear water lapping gently against the side of the boat.

Blond-haired and blue-eyed, Daniele was a rare breed among Italians. Blessed with a rare level of emotional intelligence for one so young, his fondness for pastel colours also set him apart from the crowd. Today, he had chosen one of his favourite t-shirts: a tie-dye number with a soft lavender pattern, which he was wearing over a pair of ordinary light grey swimming shorts.

In the middle distance, the light-coloured, terracotta-roofed buildings of Amalfi clustered densely around the foot of a rocky mountain valley, its green slopes and rugged cliffs flanked by a pair of ancient stone watchtowers. Visitors moved, ant-like, up and down the busy promenade lined with pine trees, and the grey sandy beach was a mass of brightly coloured parasols. The small motorboat Daniele was riding on cruised gently around the deep waters just outside the harbour, under the capable control of its teenage pilot.

“Hey, Bella! Why don’t you take us further out?”

Daniele looked up. It was Claudia: at nineteen years old, the eldest of the group; tall, olive-skinned, with long black hair tied down her back, dressed today in a stylish two-piece swimsuit. She was due to go away to university in the autumn.

“Aye, sir!” Isabella replied cheekily. Aged seventeen, neatly turned out with a bob haircut and prescription sunglasses, she seemed utterly at ease at the controls. She opened the throttle and took the boat further out into the bay.

Claudia gave Daniele a grin and flicked her head towards the two boys who were sitting huddled in the stern, whispering together and laughing about something.

“What are those two conspiring about, do you think?” she said.

Daniele smiled and glanced back at them. Toto and Michele, both seventeen years old and athletic, looked up somewhat defiantly. Their matching pendants, each depicting a swift in flight, glinted in the sun.

“You’re just a girl, Claudia,” Toto smirked, his intense brown eyes peeping out from under his tousled dark hair. His bronzed shoulders seemed to glow under his vest top. “You wouldn’t understand.”

Claudia placed her hands on her hips. “Want to bet, Toto? There was a time when I understood you better than you did.”

Michele flicked his mid-length, chestnut-brown hair back behind his ears and scratched a finger under his shirt collar.

“She might have a point there, Toto,” he said.

“All right,” Toto conceded. “We were just debating the, ah… merits… of certain male Hollywood stars. You know, their dramatic range, their depth of feeling…”

Claudia snorted. “As if. You’ve been comparing their asses again, haven’t you?”

At the controls, Isabella shrieked with laughter. Daniele giggled. Toto flashed a teasing gaze in his direction.

“Help us choose, Dani,” he said. “Chris Hemsworth or Chris Evans?”

Daniele choked. “I…” he said, beginning to blush, but Toto laughed and waved him away.

“Leave the poor boy alone,” Claudia reproved him, sidling over to Daniele and placing an arm around his shoulders. “He’s far too intelligent to be interested in either of those vacuous Marvel beefcakes… aren’t you, Dani?”

Daniele looked up at her. “Well, ah… they’re both good, but I do kinda prefer Spider-Man…”

“See, Toto?” Claudia said impishly. “This one has substance.”

Toto grinned. “Careful, Dani,” he said. “Claudia likes soulful types like you. She’s got form, you know.”

Daniele and Claudia gave each other a sideways glance. She pursed her lips in a pretence of deep consideration. “No, you’re a little too young for me, cutie.” She released him and returned to the other side of the boat, laughing quietly. “Silly, silly boys.”

Michele snickered. “We’re going to miss you, Claudia.”

Claudia smiled. “Keep the home fires burning for me, Michele. I’ll be back for Christmas.”

Michele gestured up at the crystal blue sky. “But that seems like such a long time away,” he protested.

Claudia shook her head patiently. “I haven’t even left yet, Michele. It’ll seem much closer from the other side of the summer.”

Michele shrugged. “Okay. We’ll be waiting, won’t we, Toto?”

But the other boy had gone a little quiet and seemed to be inspecting his fingernails.

“Hmm?” he replied, glancing up vaguely as if roused from deep thought. Daniele frowned slightly at his sudden change of mood.

“We’ll be ready and waiting for Claudia to come home,” Michele prompted.

Toto hitched a smile back onto his face. “Yeah, sure. Of course.”

Michele leaned across and planted a quick kiss on Toto’s cheek. Deciding to leave them to it, Daniele returned to scanning the waves, and then he saw it again: a flash of a darker colour amidst the cobalt blue, in between the sparkles of sunlight.

“What is that?” he murmured.

Claudia re-joined him at the railings. “What have you seen, Dani?” she asked him.

Daniele pointed out to sea. “Over there… a darker patch.”

Claudia squinted out into the glare. “Bella,” she called, “there’s something in the water. It’s… I dunno… sixty degrees to starboard?”

Isabella peered out through the windshield. “I see it,” she replied. “Taking us out.”

There was a growl from the engine as she opened the throttle again and the boat began to steer to the right, kicking up a faint, refreshing sea spray. Slowly, the object began to come into focus.

“Dani…” Claudia murmured, “I think it’s people!”

Daniele gaped as he realised she was right. There was a small huddle of people in the water. Three members of what looked like a north African family were clinging to a piece of driftwood. There was a man, a woman and a boy of about seven, all wearing dark clothes. They were kicking feebly towards shore, and they looked on the point of exhaustion. As they approached, the man raised an arm.

“Help…!” he cried faintly, before taking a mouthful of water, leaving him spluttering.

“Bella, bring us alongside!” Claudia called anxiously. “Not too close, let’s keep them away from the motors.”

“I’m on it,” Isabella replied.

She brought the boat to a halt about ten metres from the target, then she handed Claudia a life ring attached to a long rope. Toto and Michele came to watch as Claudia threw the ring out as far as she could.

“What’s going on?” Toto asked.

“People in the water,” Daniele replied anxiously.

The ring had landed about three metres short. “Grab it, and we’ll pull you in!” Claudia called, gesturing emphatically with both hands.

Daniele wasn’t sure whether the family in the water understood her words, but the meaning was clear enough. The man shook his head.

“Can’t…” he replied in faltering English. “Too… tired…”

Claudia shed her flip-flops. “We’re going to have to go and get them,” she said urgently. “Help me, Dani.”

She dived into the water. For the briefest of moments, Daniele froze in alarm, but then he whipped off his t-shirt, dumped it on a bench and dived in after her. Toto and Michele, who were both fully dressed, crowded intently around the handrail as they began to swim out.

“Be careful!” Michele called after them. “We’ll pull you back in.”

Swimming at a brisk crawl, Claudia and Daniele covered the distance quickly. Claudia grabbed the life ring as she went, bringing it to the man and woman, who were nearest. Daniele circled around the driftwood to approach the young child, whose dark brown eyes were wide and fearful.

“It’s okay,” he said to the boy, using the little English that he had.

Claudia had already managed to transfer the two adults to the life ring somehow. Daniele took the little boy by the shoulders and flipped onto his back so they both floated on the surface, keeping the boy’s head above water level. He weighed virtually nothing.

Daniele heard Claudia splashing towards them. “Can you manage with him, Daniele?” she asked.

“I’ll be fine,” Daniele replied.

“All right,” she said. “I’ll guide you.” She raised her voice. “Pull them in, guys!”

A minute later, they were back beside the boat. Toto and Michele had already heaved the two adults out of the water, and now they reached for the little boy, pulling him up carefully by both arms. Once he was safely inside the boat, Michele helped Claudia to scramble out, while Toto hauled Daniele up until he had clambered over the handrail and stood, dripping, on the deck.

“Great job, Dani,” Toto said quietly, pulling Daniele into a rough and very personal hug, mindless of his soaking wet skin. “Another day, another heroic deed, huh?”

Daniele smiled, flushing a little, as the other boy released him. “Thanks, Toto.”

The rescued family had huddled up on the bench at the port side of the boat, shivering slightly despite the hot July sun. Daniele watched them as he scrambled back into his t-shirt. Isabella was crouched beside them, helping them each to drink some water.

“What happened?” she asked them. “Where did you come from?”

“No… speak… Italian,” the man panted in his broken English.

“Le français?” Isabella asked.

“Oui, oui!” the man nodded fervently.

Toto, who was the strongest linguist among Daniele’s friends, hurried over to join her. “Comment vous appelez-vous?” he asked.

“Karim,” the man replied.

“Amal,” the woman said softly.

Toto and Isabella turned curiously to the little boy, whose teeth were chattering. Amal took him by the shoulders and began rubbing some warmth back into his arms.

“S-Sami,” he said faintly.

“Bonjour, Sami,” Toto said gently.

While Isabella returned to the controls, Toto began to question them in French, applying the best of his college training. Daniele and the others gathered in the bow with Isabella, who was already guiding the boat slowly back into the harbour. He wondered what Toto was learning about the family, and how they had come to be in the water.

Toto reported back to them a few minutes later. He was frowning.

“This really sucks,” he said. “They’re refugees, of course. Apparently, some men offered them passage all the way up the coast from Sicily to France. The price was all their money and possessions. They were prepared to pay it, all the same… but they weren’t expecting to get chucked overboard in the Gulf of Salerno.”

Michele gaped. “That’s unbelievable!”

Claudia shook her head in dismay. “How could they do that… especially to such a little boy!”

Toto nodded, his brow knotted in anger. “Sami’s their nephew. Both his parents are dead. They made a promise that they would try to get him to Europe. It almost got them all killed.”

“I’m afraid the best we can do for them is get them to shore,” Isabella said.

A few minutes later, Isabella nudged the boat into its berth at the marina and Michele hopped out to tie it up. They gathered on the pontoon to say goodbye, their short acquaintance already at an end. The refugee family stood together, thoroughly dishevelled, dripping seawater onto the sun-warmed planks.

“Voulez-vous que je trouve un policier?” Toto asked gently.

“No, no,” Karim replied hurriedly, waving the idea away with both hands. “Mais… merci beaucoup de nous sauver.”

The family bowed to each of them in turn. When he got to Claudia, Karim bowed extra low. Sami, meanwhile, threw his arms around Daniele’s waist in a tight little hug. Caught off-guard, Daniele found himself putting his own arms around the little boy’s skinny shoulders before he had even had time to think about what he was doing.

“Merci,” Sami squeaked into Daniele’s t-shirt, then the family melted away into the crowds of visitors on the stone quayside, and they were gone.

Confused, Daniele gazed at the dusty cobbles where he had last glimpsed them.

“Why wouldn’t they want to see a policeman?” he asked.

Claudia frowned. “Illegals, I suppose, here without documents. I feel sorry for them.”

“I hope they’ll be okay,” Daniele said sadly.

“Me too.”

* * *

Sometime later, after a crowded bus ride back up the lush, rocky Valle del Dragone to the airy heights of the mountains, Daniele returned home with his head full of new thoughts and questions.

Daniele lived with his parents in a small villa on the seaward slopes below the centre of Ravello. The house jutted out of the steep mountainside just below a quiet little road that zig-zagged down the hill below the town, criss-crossed with ancient footpaths and flights of stone steps. The hillside below the house was steeply terraced, striped with olive groves, grape vines and lemon plantations that groaned with fragrant, ripening fruit. To the west, a rocky crag soared above the scattered houses, where the formal gardens of the grand Villa Cimbrone commanded panoramic views over the coast.

The sun was beginning to sink lower in the sky now, but it still cast a strong radiance on the terracotta tiles of their little sun terrace as Daniele let himself into the house. He wasn’t sure whether anyone would be at home. His father, Paolo, was probably still out ferrying tourists around in his taxi, but he had a feeling that his mother, Patrizia, might not have started her evening shift just yet.

Patrizia worked as a waitress at a hotel in town. One of her co-workers, Gianni Fortuna, a young London-born man with local roots, lived near the hotel with Claudia’s older brother Angelo. The two of them had been close ever since Gianni had first moved to Ravello to live with his grandparents as a teenager, following the deaths of his own parents in an accident. Gianni and Angelo were friends of Daniele’s family and had also looked out for Toto and Michele ever since the two teens had come out. Such was the nature of things in a small, close-knit community such as Ravello.

Daniele was glad to know so many kind people, but Claudia and Angelo seemed to have relatives by the dozen. Although Daniele had a clearer eye for other people than most boys his age, even he found it hard to keep track of them all sometimes.

The main room in Daniele’s house was a large, light and bright kitchen-diner that also served as their living area. There was a family dining table in the centre of the room, and an area with a sofa and two chairs beneath two great big windows that looked down towards the sea.

He found his mother sitting at the table, nursing a cup of coffee. A petite woman with Daniele’s bright blue eyes, she was already dressed for work, her long blond hair tied up carefully behind her head.

“Ciao, caro,” she smiled. “I was just about to go out. Did you have a good day with Toto and the others?”

Making the story as exciting as he could, Daniele told her about the sea rescue. Her mouth opened in shock when he revealed his own part in it.

“Oh, Daniele,” she said. “I hope you were careful!”

“I know what to do, Mamma,” Daniele replied.

Patrizia inclined her head. “I guess those lifesaving lessons in Milan were worth something after all,” she conceded.

“Anyway, Claudia was with me the whole time.”

Patrizia smiled. “She’s a good girl.”

Daniele chewed a fingernail thoughtfully, thinking of the refugee family. It upset him to think of them out there right now, with no home and no money, even on a warm, beautiful evening such as this one.

“Why do they do it?” he asked. “Why do they make such dangerous journeys?”

Patrizia sighed. “I don’t claim to be an expert, caro, but from what I understand of it… some of them are fleeing war or persecution; others are looking to escape from poverty. They see no hope for their families if they stay at home, and they take a leap of faith on the possibility of a better future for their children.”

Daniele frowned. “Little Sami was so small… and he was as light as a feather.” He rubbed his eyes. “Both his parents are dead already.”

Patrizia nodded sadly. “It’s a tough world, sometimes.”

Daniele stepped forward to give her a hug. “I’ve learned that already, Mamma.”

Patrizia ran a hand gently through his mop of soft blond hair. “I know you have.”

After a few moments, Daniele drew back again. “Is it still okay if I hang out with Giacomo and Emilia tonight?”

“Of course,” Patrizia replied. “Just try not to be back too late…” she shook her head in disbelief. “And don’t go off adventuring.”

Daniele smiled. “I won’t climb any cliffs or take on any criminal gangs, I promise.”

Patrizia laughed. “Oh, dio. What on Earth have we raised you to be?”

“A superhero,” Daniele replied innocently. “Didn’t you know?”

* * *

Daniele’s best friend of his own age, Giacomo, lived in the prestigious part of town above the cathedral that was known as the Toro. In a street that was mainly dominated by grand old palazzi, he lived alone with his mother in the modest apartment above her shop. Elena Agnello, his mother, was a sweet but anxious woman. She tended to dress demurely in faded old clothes and spent her days in the scruffy little studio on the ground floor, selling her beautiful, handmade ceramics. By contrast, Giacomo was always smartly turned out in trendy, sporty clothes; he had a sly sense of humour, stylish, spiky black hair and a certain brazen confidence despite his gentle upbringing.

For over two years after he had first moved to Ravello, Daniele had watched Giacomo from a distance, strangely fascinated by his quick, fox-like movements and his dark, watchful eyes, but he had never quite plucked up the courage to strike up social contact. That had all changed in the spring when, during the traumatic events that had surrounded Giacomo’s reluctant involvement in Ettore Neri’s protection racket, they had unwittingly become the best of friends. Despite their many differences, Daniele had eventually learned that Giacomo’s inner life wasn’t so very different from his own after all.

Showered and dressed in a fresh outfit, Daniele set out into the lengthening shadows and made the journey up into town, treading the familiar paving stones of the ancient stairways that snaked around the hillside, flitting between tucked-away villas, hidden gardens and ancient churches. He climbed up past the Villa Rufolo gardens, where an orchestra could already be heard tuning up for tonight’s festival performance, and then vanished briefly into a cool, dark pedestrian tunnel under the villa itself. The soft footsteps of his trainers echoed off the rough stone walls, crunching on stray bits of gravel that littered the floor.

Turning off just before he reached the cathedral square, he climbed a quiet back route to the Toro, taking it one step at a time as he walked between two high stone walls. Lizards skittered away as he passed, and cicadas scraped raucously in the tall trees overhead.

When, at last, he came out among the palazzi of the Toro, Daniele slowed to a stroll to cool down. The grand old buildings were rendered in shades of fading salmon, ochre and cream, dotted here and there with traditional square lanterns hanging from chains. He passed the avenue of oleanders that led back down to the cathedral square, which glowed with sprays of pink and magenta flowers; the shady and colourful gardens of the small Municipio, or town hall; the entrance to the secluded courtyard house where Gianni’s grandmother lived; and, finally, the arched entrance to the landscaped belvedere opposite Giacomo’s house, which opened on a beautiful view down the mountainside to the coast at Minori and Maiori.

The ceramics shop was still open, so Daniele put his head around the door. Giacomo’s mother was sitting on a high stool behind the counter, putting the finishing touches to the coloured glazing on a handmade bowl, dressed in one of her usual faded dresses. She glanced up and gave Daniele a gentle smile.

“Buonasera, Daniele,” she said. “Giacomo’s home. Go on up.”

Daniele thanked her and stepped back out into the street. Pausing for a moment to adjust his light beige shorts and pink tie-dye t-shirt, he pushed open the outside door and started up the apartment stairs.

* * *

Giacomo’s apartment was a small but light, airy and lived-in family home, which had the slightly cluttered feel of a place where there was never quite enough storage space. Daniele kicked his trainers off in the kitchen diner at the top of the stairs and made his way towards his friend’s bedroom.

“Giaco?” he enquired. There was no answer.

Giacomo’s bedroom was in relative darkness, but that wasn’t unusual. The room faced due west over the rooftops of Ravello and the broad Valle del Dragone beyond and, at this time of day, Giacomo often closed his shutters to keep out the low sun. All the same, the silence was a little eerie and, so soon after the bright sunlit street outside, the soft glow of the two lamps in Giacomo’s room seemed feeble and inadequate.

Feeling, for a moment, like a nervous cub entering the king lion’s den, Daniele stood on the threshold, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the gloom. There was no sign of Giacomo, other than an indistinct lump on the bed, which was fully covered by the duvet. Daniele began to worry that his friend might be ill, and he approached the bed uncertainly.

“Giaco?” he repeated quietly, not wanting to wake the other boy if he was sleeping.

Giacomo erupted from the bed with a roar, bringing the duvet with him. Daniele, caught completely by surprise, drew back with a yelp of shock. Giacomo sprang down to the floor in stockinged feet, and then Daniele found himself completely enveloped in the duvet. Before he knew it, they had rolled back onto the bed and he was face-to-face with two dark eyes, peeping at him from just under the edge of the duvet.

“Ciao, Dani,” Giacomo grinned, giggling softly.

Daniele swatted his friend across the chest. “I’m going to kill you one of these days, Giaco,” he panted.

Giacomo feigned a sad face. “That’s not very nice,” he replied, and then he was off giggling again. “It’s still way too easy to make you jump.”

Daniele glared at him. “It’s not fair!”

“I know,” Giacomo sighed, rolling back to stare at the ceiling, “because you love me.”

“I never said that…!” Daniele protested. “Not exactly.”

Giacomo gave him a sideways look and snickered. “Hey, I told you, I don’t mind. And look… we’ve only gone and ended up in bed together again.”

“Not my fault this time,” Daniele emphasised.

“Hey, you’re right,” Giacomo breathed. “I guess I must love you too!” He grinned. “Now get up, you’re hogging the covers.”

Giacomo hopped out of the bed, allowing Daniele room to escape. Daniele clambered out, giving the other boy a confused glance as he stood up. He thought he was probably just being messed with.

“It’s all right, make fun,” he grumbled. “I only saved a life today.”

Giacomo nodded. “I heard,” he said, allowing his teasing façade to slip just a little. For a moment, something more like sincere admiration shone through. “Dani the hero strikes again!”

Daniele stared at him incredulously. “How did you hear about it already?”

Giacomo flicked his dark eyes to the roughly plastered ceiling while he pondered the question. “Let me see. I think… yeah. Claudia told Angelo, then Angelo told their older brother Pietro. Pietro told his wife Anna, and then Anna told Mamma when she dropped by the shop this afternoon to see how she was doing, and Mamma told me. I expect Anna has probably heard it from Gianni, too, by now… after all, they are cousins.” He grinned, pausing for effect. “How’d I do?”

Daniele blinked. “What did you say…?”

“I know because it’s Ravello, Dani,” Giacomo explained with exaggerated patience. “I know you’re a city boy, but you ought to have learned that by now.”

“I’m not a city boy,” Daniele objected. “Milan feels like a lifetime ago. This is my home now.”

“It’s just as well,” Giacomo said, more gently. “Someone as cool as you would totally be wasted on the city.”

“Ah… thanks,” Daniele mumbled. Feeling himself begin to flush again, he cursed himself inwardly.

Why do I have to be such an open book? Giaco hardly ever gives anything away.

“So, I was thinking…” Giacomo ventured hesitantly, “it’s been great hanging out with you and Emilia together this summer, but I sort of miss the times we had in the spring when it was just the two of us.”

Daniele smiled and nodded slowly. “Me too. They were pretty…”

Special?

“…pretty cool.”

“Maybe we could try to have a few days like that again,” Giacomo said. “Not all the time, but perhaps… now and then… we could just set off on our bikes and see where they take us.”

“That would be awesome,” Daniele said sincerely. “I’d love to do that. But… what about Emilia? Won’t she feel left out?”

Giacomo frowned slightly. “She won’t mind if it’s just a day now and then.”

Daniele wondered, sometimes, if his friend underestimated the effect he had on people. After all, Giacomo and Emilia had had another friend once.

“Have you heard from Marco lately?” he asked quietly.

Giacomo shoved his hands in his pockets, and for a moment he looked defensive.

“That’s kinda harsh,” he muttered.

“I just…”

“Marco betrayed us, Dani,” Giacomo burst out. “There was no reason for him to hate you so much, and no reason why he had to go and join Ettore’s crew.”

Daniele stared at the other boy despairingly.

He was in love with you, Giaco. Once I worked that out, it explained everything. You sussed ME out easily enough. Why couldn’t you see it with HIM?

Maybe, he wondered, that was just how it went when you had been friends with someone ever since early childhood. You didn’t question what you thought you knew about them until it was too late.

“I just worry about him sometimes,” Daniele said. “Gianni told me how poor his family are. It sounds like you and Emilia were all he had.”

Giacomo relaxed a little. “Only you would care that much about someone who was only ever horrible to you, Dani.” He smiled. “Someone who even picked a fight with you… and lived to regret it.”

Daniele exhaled wearily. “Don’t remind me.”

“I still wish I’d been there.” Giacomo reached out to squeeze one of Daniele’s biceps. “It sounds like you kicked his ass.”

In spite himself, Daniele giggled and shifted out of reach. “Cut it out, Giaco.”

Giacomo smirked. “Yeah, I know. You’re a lover, not a fighter.”

“Ah, c’mon…” Daniele looked back at him, lost for words.

Giacomo snickered. “Andiamo,” he said, putting an arm around Daniele’s shoulders. “We should get down to the square. Emilia will be wondering where we are.”

* * *

The sun was dipping behind the mountain peaks on the far side of the Valle del Dragone, casting a fading, golden glow on the surroundings, as Daniele and Giacomo descended the avenue of oleanders that led down to the square. The warm evening air was balmy and gentle. They weaved between the overhanging sprays of pinkish flowers, wandering down the broad flight of gentle steps towards the distant sound of conversation and chinking cups.

Giacomo had donned one of his trendy jackets to go with his fitted white t-shirt and dark blue skinny jeans. Daniele looked on enviously. The other boy always seemed effortlessly cool next to Daniele’s own, softer look.

Before long, they had rounded the corner of the cathedral and stepped out into the quietly bustling surroundings of the square. With the arrival of the evening, the bars were filling up rapidly: the neat rows of outside tables were surrounded by baskets of flowers and shaded from the sun by giant parasols. Friends, couples and families sat enjoying late coffees or an aperitif before dinner.

At the head of the broad, stone-paved square, the simple whitewashed façade of the cathedral glowed serenely in the fading sunlight at the top of a short flight of steps. Old buildings with rusting ironwork crowded in from the left and right while, at the far side of the square, a row of eight huge umbrella pine trees framed a vista across the valley to the neighbouring village of Scala, a collection of linked hamlets scattered over the terraced mountainside. Above the last of the buildings, the verdant greenery gave way to a rugged rocky ridge. A few people relaxed by the railings, admiring the view.

Daniele and Giacomo trailed across the stone-paved space towards the line of trees, soaking up the mellow atmosphere, and sat down on a stone bench amid a light scattering of fragrant pine needles, facing back into the square with its quiet contingent of cheerful, chatting people. High up in the canopies of the trees, a few late cicadas still scraped away in the dying rays of the sun.

There was no sign of Emilia yet, so they waited. Around the edges of the square, and on the narrow, crazy-paved streets that lead out of it, decorative lanterns sparked into life, ready for nightfall. Daniele wondered where Emilia had got to; it wasn’t like her to be late.

After Daniele had first made friends with Giacomo in the spring, it had taken Emilia a little while to warm to him. In the falling-out that had ensued, she had taken Marco’s side for a while but, after the fight, she had begun spending time with Daniele and Giacomo instead. A fierce, tomboyish sort of girl, she generally gave as good as she got, but she did have one weakness: as Giacomo never seemed to grow tired of pointing out, she had taken a bit of a shine to Daniele.

Absently, Daniele rubbed his cheek as he remembered the quick peck she had placed there just before they had embarked on one particularly dangerous mission together.

‘You owe me a kiss,’ she had said afterwards. ‘I wouldn’t do all that for just anyone.’

Little did she know that Daniele’s attention had been focused elsewhere all along. He gave Giacomo a sideways glance, noticing the individual spikes of his black hair and the curve of his eyelashes with uncomfortable clarity.

Giacomo noticed him looking and smirked in amusement. “What’s up, Dani?”

“Nothing, I…”

“Just checking out the merchandise?”

Daniele sighed and nodded; there was no point denying it. “Growing up sucks, sometimes.”

“Yeah, well…” Giacomo replied, inspecting his knuckles in a distracted sort of way, “we can’t choose who we are, can we? Mamma always tells me you just have to be yourself.”

“It’s not always that easy,” Daniele murmured.

“C’mon, Dani,” Giacomo entreated him, gesturing at his pink t-shirt. “When have you ever not been yourself? You’re doing okay.”

“I try,” Daniele said quietly, “but it’s harder when other people aren’t always, you know… what you might want them to be.”

Giacomo frowned slightly and laid a hand gently on Daniele’s arm. “Never say never, Dani… I mean…”

But he never finished the sentence. “Hey, she’s here…” he said suddenly, rising abruptly to his feet as something caught his eye. “…and she has company.”

Startled by his friend’s sudden formality, Daniele got up and joined him. Sure enough, Emilia was walking into the square from the tree-lined little street at its nearest corner, dressed in her usual practical combination of a plain white blouse and blue jeans, her mid-length brown hair washed and neatly brushed. But the girl walking beside her was something else. She was very pretty: Daniele supposed some boys might find her devastatingly so. She was wearing a light summer dress that fell to just above the knee, her olive skin caught just the right amount of light from the lanterns overhead, and her glossy brown hair cascaded down her shoulders. A silver bracelet glinted on her left wrist.

“Ciao, guys…” Emilia said as she approached. “Sorry we’re late. This is my cousin Laura – she’s down from Rome for the summer.”

“Ciao,” the new girl smiled. “Are these the friends you told me about, Emilia?”

Emilia nodded. “This is Daniele, and this is Giacomo.”

Laura looked them both up and down, then leaned in closer to Emilia’s ear.

“He’s cute,” she whispered, far too loudly for the boys not to hear.

Emilia frowned slightly. “Who, Daniele?”

“No, silly. Giacomo!”

Emilia wrinkled her nose in distaste. “Seriously?”

But Giacomo had reacted very strangely. He suddenly seemed very interested in his own feet, and he laughed awkwardly. He looked… bashful.

“Pleased to meet you,” he mumbled.

Daniele watched him miserably. He had never seen his friend react this way before. Not to… anyone. His own heart had plunged down to somewhere near his navel.

This must be how Marco felt when he thought Giacomo was into me.

Emilia rolled her eyes. “Come on then, cuties,” she said, “let’s not just stand here all night.”

* * *

Later that evening, as Daniele walked home on his own, all he could think about was the sound of Laura’s laughter.

The four of them had enjoyed a round of ice creams together and they had chatted for a while. It had been nice… but it had also been torture. It would have been easier if he could have disliked Emilia’s cousin, but he couldn’t: she was fun. And the worst part was that she really seemed to like Giacomo’s sense of humour.

Before long, a natural fault line had emerged between them: Giacomo had talked mainly to Laura, and Daniele had talked mainly to Emilia. Daniele liked talking to Emilia, but all the same…

It was better than being alone again, but that wasn’t saying much. Somehow… in the nicest possible way… the new arrival had managed to totally monopolise his best friend.

And they were all due to hang out again tomorrow.

Daniele collapsed into bed that night feeling hot and confused. In one eventful evening, he felt like the shape of his summer had completely changed. He remembered Giacomo’s promises earlier on about spending time as just the two of them. He wondered what the chances really were of that happening now.

Not good.