Lanterns in the Dark - 3. Chapter 3

“No, I’ve hardly seen them.”

It was a couple of days later. Daniele and Emilia were sitting in the square, passing the time on a sunny Wednesday morning. The cicadas scraped in the pine trees above their heads, but the stone bench they sat on was still cool in the shade. All around them there was a quiet buzz of conversation: the morning coffee trade was in full swing.

“So, what do they do all day?” Daniele asked.

Emilia shrugged. “I don’t know! Laura goes out after breakfast, and sometimes we don’t see her again until after lunch. It’s almost like…” she looked a little put out. “Like she’s not really here at all.”

Daniele smiled bravely. “I guess they’re not climbing mountains together. Can you imagine Laura doing that in one of her little dresses?”

Emilia snickered. “Yeah. Stacked heels scrabbling in the gravel, and her designer shoulder bag flapping…”

Daniele sighed. “But she’s okay, really, isn’t she?”

Emilia sobered up a little. “Sure. She’s a total city girl, but yeah, she’s fine. I just don’t know what she sees in Giacomo, of all people.”

“Well, he’s…” Daniele began a little defensively, but then he stopped, feeling embarrassed.

Emilia raised an eyebrow. “He’s what?”

“Never mind.”

Emilia rolled her dark brown eyes. “Of course you’re going to stand up for him, even if he is behaving like an ass. You’re a better friend than he deserves, Dani.”

“He’s my best friend,” Daniele said miserably, but then he glanced guiltily at Emilia, realising how that sounded.

“It’s okay,” she said, looking back at him sympathetically. “I know what you mean. He was my best friend once, too.”

She had used the past tense. Daniele frowned back at her for a moment, wondering what she had meant by it.

“I’m sorry I pushed you and Marco out,” he said after a while.

“You didn’t push us out, Dani,” Emilia replied. “Maybe that’s how it seemed to us for a while, but I get it now. Giacomo was trying to keep us out of all the stuff he was involved in with Ettore.”

“See… he’s more thoughtful than he looks,” Daniele mumbled doubtfully.

“Then where is he? I don’t know about you… but I’m feeling pretty forgotten right now.”

Daniele nodded. He hadn’t wanted to admit it to himself, but she was right. That was how he had been feeling for much of the last couple of days.

Is this how it always goes? You meet someone you like, and you forget all about your friends?

Emilia crossed her arms stubbornly. “We’ll just have to make our own fun without him, Dani. I can be the equal of any boy, you’ll see.”

Daniele grinned. “You’ll do anything Giacomo would do?”

Emilia nodded. “Just you watch me.”

“Even fart in public, or pick your nose and eat the bits?”

Emilia frowned. “Well… maybe not the gross parts.” Her expression cleared a little. “Say… do you think he does those things in front of Laura?”

They stared at each other in silence for a few seconds, and then they both dissolved into a fit of the giggles.

Emilia placed her hands on her hips and mimed a perfectly scandalised expression.

“Giacomo!” she exclaimed, putting on a highly affected voice. “How dare you break wind before me?”

“I’m sorry, baby…” Daniele quoted, once he had caught his breath. “I didn’t realise it was your turn.”

Emilia snickered. “Branching out from James Bond, are you?”

Laughing about things had made Daniele feel a little better. All the same, the cloud of gloom he had been floating on for the last couple of days was still there, just out of reach.

“What would you like us to do together, Emilia?” he asked.

“Well… the three of us talked about things we were going to do together when school finished, do you remember? You know, before things got really intense with Ettore.”

Daniele nodded. “I remember.”

“We could go cycling,” Emilia said. “We could camp out at our secret place in the valley, or… I haven’t been the beach for a while,” she added, going slightly pink.

“Those all sound good,” Daniele said.

“Or, I was wondering… since we’re on our own, maybe we could…” she tailed off.

“What?” Daniele asked her curiously.

“Never mind,” Emilia replied, hastily averting her eyes and pretending to be very interested in a passing pigeon.

Daniele wondered what she had been about to ask him. She now seemed rather embarrassed.

“I haven’t seen you for a couple of days,” she went on after a moment. “How did things go with Gianni?”

“Oh…” Daniele said, startled by the sudden change of subject. “It was pretty weird.” He hesitated. “Have you ever lost someone?”

Emilia shook her head. “Never someone close to me.”

“Going to Marina’s house after she’s gone, but with all her stuff still lying around there… it was strange. Everything felt slightly off, like… I don’t know…” He paused, trying to figure out how to express the feeling. “Like a house without a heart.”

Emilia nodded. “I guess it would. What happens next?”

“They were pretty up and down about it, but I reckon Gianni and Angelo are going to live there.” He frowned thoughtfully. “Could you do that? Live in your parents’ or grandparents’ house after they’d died?”

Emilia pondered the question for a moment. “Maybe… but I think I’d want to change it a bit, you know? It would make me sad if it were too much the same. But, you know… I hope I don’t have to think about anything like that for a long time yet.”

Daniele got to his feet and stretched. “Do you want to get some ice cream or something?”

Emilia smiled and shook her head. “Thanks, but I’m supposed to be taking this letter to the people at the Villa Rufolo,” she said, producing a neatly folded envelope from her trouser pocket. “My dad does their accounts… I can get you into the gardens there for free, any time you like.”

Disappointed, Daniele shoved his hands into his pockets. “Okay,” he replied. “Want to get together tomorrow morning, then? We could go cycling, like you said.”

Emilia nodded. “I’ll come and find you at home. Ciao, Dani.”

“Ciao,” he replied. She set off with a wave, and he watched as she strolled cheerfully across the square, eventually losing sight of her as she disappeared beneath an ancient stone gatehouse in the far corner.

Momentarily at a loss, Daniele scuffed idly at the paving stones with one of his trainers. He wondered whether he should go home and try to work on one of his stories. With all the time he had been spending with his new friends since the spring, he had got out of the habit of writing. But first, he thought, maybe he would go and say hello to one of his older friends.

He began to make his way across to the back corner of the square next to the cathedral, where the avenue of oleanders met Via Roma, the narrow little alley where most of the town’s shops were, including the grocery store owned by Toto’s father Salvatore. The little street wound between overhanging buildings, even passing below some of them like a tunnel. Each day, the traders put out their neat displays of postcards, pasta shapes, clothes, wine and lemon liqueur, hoping to cash in on the tourist trade.

Before Daniele could even make it to the corner, he was stopped in his tracks as Michele erupted from it at a run, closely followed by Toto. His usually soft brown eyes were blazing with emotion. Passers-by glanced at them in surprise as they passed.

“Michele…” Toto called after him.

“Just leave it, Toto,” Michele shouted back. “I can’t talk to you right now.”

Head down, Michele charged past Daniele without even realising he was there. Toto had halted at the corner of the square, apparently realising he wasn’t wanted. He caught sight of Daniele and their eyes met briefly, but instead of uttering his usual friendly greeting, Toto slunk away, looking slightly ashamed of himself.

Confused and dismayed, Daniele cast his eyes around the square, trying to see where the other boy he had gone. After a few moments he saw him, hunched on the very same stone bench under the pine trees that Daniele had just shared with Emilia, holding his head in his hands, pulling his chestnut-brown hair into tufts.

Slowly, Daniele approached the bench, wondering whether he would be welcome. Maybe Michele wouldn’t want to talk? But the older boy looked so miserable that he couldn’t bear to leave him alone.

Is he… crying?

Hesitantly, Daniele slid down onto the bench next to Michele and put an arm around his broader shoulders. The other boy jumped slightly at his unexpected touch, but then he pulled Daniele into a tight hug.

“Ciao, Dani,” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes with his free hand.

“What happened?” Daniele asked desperately.

“Toto just broke up with me.”

Daniele stared at him in disbelief. “What?”

Michele sniffed and wiped his nose. “Well… he actually said something about ‘taking a break’… but it comes to the same thing, doesn’t it?”

Daniele frowned in confusion. “I don’t understand. Why?”

Michele spread his hands helplessly. “I don’t know! He said something about me being ‘better off without him’, and that’s… well, that’s pretty much when I took off.”

Daniele bit his lip anxiously. “I don’t get it.”

Michele shook his head. “Me neither. Can you believe him? After everything I went through so we could be together?”

“It makes no sense,” Daniele agreed.

“Maybe he wants to play the field,” Michele muttered.

“No way!” Daniele flared up at once; he couldn’t believe that the other boy was capable of that. “Not Toto. That’s just not him.”

“Then is it something I did, or said?” Michele mumbled.

Daniele wasn’t sure whether Michele was talking to him, or himself. There was silence for a moment, and Daniele scratched his head, trying to figure out what he should say next.

“Did you have any warning?” he asked.

Michele shook his head. “No, although… he’s been weirdly moody for a few days. Fine one minute, and then all quiet and withdrawn the next.”

Daniele nodded. “Like he was on the boat.”

“Yeah,” Michele agreed. “Just like that.”

Daniele reached across and hugged the other boy again. “I’m sorry, Michele,” he said.

Michele hugged him back and exhaled slowly. “I’d avoid love if I were you, Dani,” he said. “Nothing hurts quite like it.”

Daniele nodded again, remembering the image of Giacomo and Laura together on the belvedere – a scene that had been seared into his mind ever since he had witnessed it.

“I think… I sort of know what you mean.”

* * *

Daniele and Michele were almost neighbours, so he accompanied the older boy home. They walked in silence down the long flight of stone steps that led down to their neighbourhood from the centre of town.

Parting company with Michele at the entrance to his courtyard, Daniele walked down the last few metres of the quiet hillside road until he reached his own sun terrace. He let himself in through the gate and descended to the front door at the lower ground floor level. Letting himself into the empty house, he shed his shoes in the hallway and then turned right into the cool sanctuary of his bedroom.

He flopped down on his bed, troubled on three fronts. First there was the situation with Giacomo and Laura, then there was Gianni and his grandmother, and now Toto and Michele… the one couple he had invested the most in and had even helped to bring together. He wondered how Claudia would feel when she found out.

He sighed in frustration and ran his hands roughly through his soft blond hair. It was all too much for one thirteen-year-old to deal with, and his first instinct was still to talk about it with Giacomo… but how could he do that, when Giacomo was part of the problem?

He supposed Emilia would have to do.

* * *

Daniele and Emilia spent Thursday morning riding their bicycles together. Living in the mountainous landscape around Ravello had made them both pretty fit, and they braved the challenging climb up through the streets of Scala on the far side of the Valle del Dragone. Determinedly, they climbed up to Campidioglio, one of the highest hamlets of the village, where they stopped for a rest at a viewpoint next to an old church, amidst the quiet scraping of the cicadas among the olive groves below. From where they were sitting, they had a far-reaching view over the valley to the scattered villas and pine trees of Ravello and the distant sea beyond. The rocky peaks beyond Maiori rose in the distance, encircling everything in their protective grasp.

Slowly, Daniele told his friend about everything he had seen and learned over the last few days.

“I feel like… everything’s gone wrong,” he concluded. “I thought I understood how things were, but now… nothing’s the same.”

“We’re still friends,” Emilia observed, giving him an oddly searching sort of look.

Daniele offered her a smile. “Yes, but if you’d told me in April that it would just be the two of us…”

Emilia shrugged and inspected her fingernails. “It’s not so bad.”

Daniele shook his head. “No, I’m glad… really glad… that I still have someone I can hang out with.”

“Things change, Dani,” Emilia said. “Some changes can be good.”

Daniele sighed. “I know, but do they all have to change at the same time?”

Emilia nodded. “You’re right.” She hopped up from the bench they were sharing and leant over the railings. “Hey, Ravello!” she shouted across the valley. “You suck, sometimes!”

Daniele giggled and came to stand beside her. “Yeah, give us our friends back!”

Emilia moved a little closer and snuck her hand into Daniele’s own. He glanced down at it, caught by surprise.

“Emilia…” he began, unsure how to react.

“Never drop me, okay?” she said quietly.

“Sure…” Daniele replied. “You know I wouldn’t do that, don’t you?”

Emilia shrugged. “Giacomo did when he met you. I guess, after that… it just gets a bit harder to trust people.”

* * *

When Daniele returned home that afternoon, he found his mother waiting for him in the kitchen.

“Ciao, caro,” she smiled.

“Ciao, Mamma,” he replied, helping himself to a glass of chilled water from the fridge and joining her at the dining table.

“Have you had a nice day?”

Daniele nodded. “Emilia and I cycled up to the top of Scala. It was fun.”

“Gianni came back to work today,” Patrizia said. “He wanted me to thank you for your help the other day. It made him feel better to have someone to talk to who wasn’t just… you know… being all sympathetic.”

Daniele smiled. “Thanks.”

“Also…” she hesitated. “Giacomo phoned.”

Daniele looked up, his heart suddenly in his mouth. “What…?”

“He said he hadn’t seen you around for a few days. He seemed to think you’ve been avoiding him.”

Daniele scowled slightly in puzzlement. “I haven’t… I mean, I just thought…” he grunted in frustration. “What about Laura?”

“He didn’t mention her,” Patrizia said. Now it was her turn to look puzzled. “Do you know something you’re not telling me, caro?” she asked gently.

Daniele shrugged.

“Anyway,” Patrizia went on, “he said he’ll be in the square after breakfast on Saturday morning. I think he’d like to see you.”

“Thanks,” Daniele replied uncertainly.

Clutching his glass of water, which felt refreshingly cool in his sweaty palms, Daniele returned to his bedroom.

Had he been avoiding his friend? He didn’t think so. Hadn’t he just assumed that Giacomo wasn’t interested in seeing him?

But then again…

He thought perhaps he might head up to the square on Saturday morning after all.

* * *

Saturday morning dawned as clear and cloudless as the previous few days had been.

Since his conversation with his mother, Daniele’s desire to see his best friend again had been at war with his memory of the kiss on the belvedere. In the end, the thought of spending some time alone with Giacomo had won out, and he decided to give his friend the benefit of the doubt.

Dressed in a muted, mid-blue tie-dye t-shirt, which Giacomo himself had borrowed on one memorable occasion not so many weeks ago, he embarked on the familiar journey up the stone steps into town. As he passed Michele’s house, he glanced at the empty sun terrace and wondered, with a pang, how the older boy was doing.

After everything we went through with Ettore, this was supposed to be a summer of fun for all of us. What happened?

As he climbed between the old villas, hidden gardens and high stone walls, Daniele considered how he wanted to appear when he saw Giacomo. He decided that he didn’t want to seem so keen anymore. He would try to be cool, to show that he was pleased to see his friend, but also subtly indicate that, maybe, everything wasn’t completely okay between them.

It occurred to him that he had never tried to plan an attitude like this before.

What’s happening to me?

Daniele shook his head and rounded the final corner at the top of the stairway. From here, an archway and a short row of gift shops were all that separated him from the square, and his first sight of Giacomo since that moment on the belvedere.

Hands in pockets, he mooched along the little street, heedless of the displays of colourful ceramics in all shapes and sizes. Around the next corner, his fate awaited.

Daniele paused on the corner of the square, just a few metres away from the ancient stone gatehouse of the Villa Rufolo and the short tunnel that led out to the main road up from Naples. He scanned the square with his eyes, searching for his friend, and before long he had found him: he was sitting at their usual bench under the pine trees, looking cool in a pair of skinny jeans and a short-sleeved shirt.

Laura was with him… and they were holding hands. Daniele stared at them with fresh misery.

Giaco… don’t you know how much it HURTS?

He slipped away into the cool of the road tunnel, a lick of sea breeze ruffling his soft blond hair. He could feel tears threatening to come again, and he wished desperately that they would go away.

Couldn’t Giacomo have managed without his new girlfriend… just for one morning?

With no real idea of where he was going, he wandered along the main road, skirting the sun-drenched hillside that overlooked the coast at Minori and Maiori. The sunshine beat down relentlessly on the dusty road, despite the handful of small ornamental trees that lined the narrow pavement.

Drifting vaguely along the roadside, rubbing his eyes and lost in his own hurt feelings, Daniele set out across the top of the hillside road without looking.

There was the scramble of an engine, and someone coming the other way grabbed him and hauled him back towards the pavement just as a Vespa scooter flashed by only inches away, its chrome headlamp flaring in the sun.

Daniele raised his disconsolate gaze to find his rescuer’s dark eyes looking down at him with concern. Judging by the paper bag dangling from one hand, he had just come from the pharmacy across the road.

“Dani?” Angelo said anxiously. “What’s wrong?”

Daniele blinked another tear away. “I… don’t really want to talk about it.”

Angelo frowned. “You’re lucky I ran out of sticking plasters today,” he breathed. “Whatever it is that’s bothering you, it’s not worth your life.” He offered him a sad half-smile. “I mean, seriously… We’ve already got one funeral to arrange. We don’t need another.”

“Sorry,” Daniele mumbled. “I was just walking.”

Angelo released him. “Be careful.”

Daniele nodded, and then threw his arms around the young man’s middle with a deep, shuddering breath. Angelo held him for a moment.

“You can talk to us, you know,” he said. “You probably think we’ve got too much on our plate already, but… we’re here.”

“Thanks, Angelo,” Daniele replied quietly. “See you later.”

Pausing this time to look for traffic, Daniele crossed the junction and continued along the main road. Angelo watched him go, a troubled look in his dark eyes.

* * *

Daniele followed the main road aimlessly for some time. Above him, the villas and palazzi of the Toro clustered along the top of the hill, their myriad windows staring out to sea.

As he headed inland, the sea view fell away. A steep, terraced hillside clustered with scattered houses and plantations drew him onward towards the rugged, tree-crowned slopes of the Sambuco valley.

He passed the Palmeri garage, the only petrol station in town, where the proprietor, Enzo, tipped him a surly wave. Now and then, a car or another Vespa scooter flashed past, but, by and large, he had the road to himself.

Before long, he was approaching the very edge of town, where the hillside houses of San Martino descended the lower slopes of Monte Brusara to join the main road. The concrete and marble tombs of the town cemetery loomed over the road for a while, and then he was out into the countryside.

He halted at a road junction to consider his options. Above him, the main footpath up through San Martino would take him back into town, but it was too soon for that. Ahead, the main road to Naples stretched on up the side of the valley. There was no pavement that way and, depressed though he was, Daniele didn’t want to risk an accident for a second time.

Instead, he took the lower turning, the quiet road that led down into the depths of the valley towards the village of Sambuco. Daniele hadn’t been this way since his last, frightening encounter with Ettore Neri, where he had played his own small part in the downfall of the protection racket. Usually, he preferred to avoid thinking about that day, and how, if it weren’t for Emilia and Giacomo, he might have come to a sticky end.

However, today wasn’t a normal day. Ettore was long gone, and Daniele knew he had nothing to fear. He wandered on down the road, which was soon enveloped by rocky cliffs and broad-leafed woodland, following it down into the sheltered upper reaches of the valley.

Sambuco was a sleepy place, with a few isolated houses perched on the sides of the wooded gorge. Piles of logs lined the road here and there, and a few cicadas scraped in the sunnier spots further down the slopes. Lizards basked on the rocks, their throats pulsing and their beady black eyes watchful, vanishing in an instant when Daniele got too close.

After a while, he got tired of plodding along the road, and he paused at a layby containing a large, cobwebby log pile. During those eventful few weeks in the spring, he had hidden behind these logs more than once, desperate to save Giacomo from the unseemly attentions of Antonio, Ettore’s nastiest henchman. He glanced down into the valley, his eyes following the flight of scarred and broken concrete steps that led down to the remote house Ettore had used as his headquarters.

Before he knew it, Daniele had set off down the old staircase, following it until it turned into a dirt path lined with lemon trees and grape vines. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, exactly – but the memory of that final encounter, in which Giacomo had come to rescue him at the last minute, was etched so firmly into his mind that this was one way, perhaps, that he could feel just a little closer to his absent friend.

Before long, Daniele turned down one last short flight of steps and entered the untidy courtyard next to the seedy old house. It was just as he remembered it: full of broken concrete, plastic sacks of rubble and discarded, rusty garden tools, surrounded by tired old grape vines.

But he wasn’t alone.

A small, mousy-haired boy of about Daniele’s own age was sitting on an upturned bucket, jabbing miserably at the ground with something he held in his hand. He was dressed in a faded old blue check shirt and a pair of worn-out jeans. He had his back to Daniele, and didn’t seem to have noticed his arrival.

“Marco?” Daniele said.

Here, he finally was: Giacomo’s missing friend, who had been practically invisible since Ettore’s arrest. The last time Daniele had seen him, he had been wearing smart new sports clothes, bought using the ill-gotten gains from his time scouting potential targets for Ettore, a role he had taken over from Giacomo. Now, Marco looked every bit as poor and deprived as he had before the whole business had started. In those days, Giacomo, Emilia and Marco had been the inseparable trio, and Daniele had been the outsider.

Startled by Daniele’s voice, Marco whipped round, standing tensely with his weapon outstretched. It was a penknife with a black handle, now rather muddy, but horribly familiar. Not so long ago, Giacomo had been threatened with that very same blade.

“What do you want, Daniele?” Marco spat. The look in his cool grey eyes was frightened and hostile.

Daniele, however, couldn’t take his eyes off the weapon in Marco’s hand.

“Is that… Antonio’s knife?” he asked quietly.

Marco closed the blade and lowered the knife to his side. “Dunno,” he replied. “I found it by the steps.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same question,” Marco replied, a hard edge to his voice that made it clear that, in his view at least, he owed Daniele absolutely nothing.

“I was just walking,” Daniele said defensively.

“Oh, sure,” Marco replied, rolling his eyes sarcastically. “You just decided to go for a nice stroll to the very same house where, only last month, you were captured and held hostage for hours.” He shook his head. “I mean, you must be having a really great day if that was your best option.”

“Okay,” Daniele admitted. “Maybe my day has been kinda lousy.”

Marco gave a satisfied little grunt. “Well, welcome to my world.”

Daniele looked the smaller boy up and down, considering his faded look once again. “What happened to your new clothes, Marco?” He asked.

“Burned them,” Marco replied bluntly. He gestured at a rusty old barbecue, which contained a few scraps of singed fabric.

“I’ve been wondering what happened to you.”

“Oh, Dani,” Marco sighed, mockingly echoing the nickname used only by Daniele’s friends. “I didn’t know you cared.”

“Of course I care!” Daniele replied heatedly. “I hated the way you ended up on your own.”

“Yeah, well,” Marco muttered. “Whose fault was that?”

You did your share, Marco…

“I never wanted to split anyone up,” Daniele insisted.

“Too bad. You did it anyway.”

“I’m not the one who turned it into a fight.”

“Want a second go?” Marco asked, waving the sheathed penknife at Daniele. “I reckon I’d be in with a chance this time.”

Daniele blanched. “Are you serious?”

Marco grunted in frustration. “Of course not. What sort of kid do you think I am?” He shook his head again. “Why don’t you just get out of here, Daniele? I’ve got nothing to say to you.”

Instead, Daniele approached him, treading carefully through the rubble. “Do you really think I stole Giacomo from you?”

“Might as well have,” Marco retorted.

“I know you were in love with him,” Daniele said quietly.

Marco’s grey eyes blazed at once. “Shut up,” he snapped, clenching a fist. “You don’t get to talk to me about that.”

“He has a girlfriend now.”

For a moment, Marco faltered. His eyes registered a flicker of something other than hostility, but then it was gone. He rallied, and then he laughed mirthlessly.

“Oh, is that why you’re here?” he asked. “Been rejected?”

“Not exactly,” Daniele replied, “but… I don’t really want to be around him right now, either.”

Marco took a breath. “What’s she like?” he asked, with a slightly forced casualness.

“Pretty. Funny. And she hangs off his every word.”

Marco shrugged indifferently. “Yeah, well,” he said. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Daniele wasn’t sure whether the other boy had really believed him or not.

From somewhere at the far end of the house, there was a sudden clatter that sounded like a door closing. Daniele and Marco whipped round at once, instantly on their guard. Marco opened the blade on the penknife and held it tensely at his side.

“Are you crazy, Marco?” Daniele hissed. “Put that thing away.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Marco hissed back.

“We should just get out of here. Both of us.”

But it was too late. Daniele could hear light footsteps crunching uncertainly along the rubble-strewn path next to the house, and then a small figure appeared at the corner, dark brown eyes peeping out nervously from amid his dusky little face and mop of uncombed black hair.

“Sami?” Daniele gasped.

“D-Daniele?” the little boy said in barely more than a whisper. “J’ai faim. Où est mon oncle? Où est ma tante?”

Daniele approached the little boy and knelt before him. Marco followed and stood a couple of metres away, watching curiously. The knife in his hand had vanished.

“Are you on your own here, Sami?” Daniele asked, placing a hand on the small boy’s shoulder.

“J’ai peur,” Sami said tearfully. “Ils ont disparu.”

“Do you understand him?” Daniele asked Marco.

Marco shook his head. “No… but I think he said something about being hungry.”

Daniele gave the little boy a hug. “It’s okay,” he said, resorting to his limited English in the hope that he would be understood. “We’ll help you.”

“What’s he doing here?” Marco asked.

“He’s an illegal,” Daniele replied. “Claudia Rossi and I fished him out of the water at Amalfi a few days ago… but he had two adults with him then.”

Marco frowned. “Shouldn’t we tell someone?”

“But what’ll happen to him if we do?” Daniele replied.

Marco shrugged. “I dunno. I guess… we could bring him some food, or something.”

“You’d really do that for him?” Daniele asked.

Marco kicked vaguely at a scrap of broken concrete on the ground. “Sure,” he mumbled. “I’ll come back tomorrow.”

“Okay… and I’ll come back a couple days after that.” Daniele hesitated. “We’ll do this together?”

Marco nodded. “Yeah… but,” he shot Daniele a fierce glare, “it doesn’t mean we’re friends.”

“He’ll need more help than that soon.” Daniele scratched his head. “I don’t want to get him into trouble. I need to think about who to talk to first… and maybe his aunt and uncle will come back.”

“They’ve probably been caught,” Marco said. “Why else would they leave him on his own?”

Daniele turned back to the little boy.

“This is Marco,” he said in English, gesturing to the mousy-haired boy. “He’ll come tomorrow, with food.”

Sami nodded, wiping his eyes with a grubby little hand. It seemed that he at least partially understood.

“…and I’ll come back soon.”

“Merci,” the little boy whispered.

* * *

The encounter had, at least, taken Daniele’s mind off his own problems for a while.

The two boys had climbed the steps together, complicit in their plan but walking in awkward silence. A lot of resentment still lay between them. Marco produced a heavy old bike from somewhere and zipped off up the road towards town, leaving Daniele to walk slowly back on foot.

Marco’s readiness to help the younger boy had surprised him. Although he was glad that he didn’t have to deal with this latest challenge on his own, Daniele would have preferred a friendlier companion.