Lanterns in the Dark - 4. Chapter 4

Marina’s funeral had been arranged for late morning on Wednesday. Daniele dressed that morning in a plain white shirt, dark trousers and black tie that his parents had hastily purchased for the occasion.

Four days had passed since his encounter with Marco at Ettore’s house, and now it was Daniele’s turn to take some food to Sami. He still hadn’t told anybody else about the little boy hiding out in Sambuco; every time he came close to telling his parents, he became paralysed by the image of Sami being dragged off by the police and sent… goodness knew where.

Hoping that Marco had kept up his end of the deal, Daniele excused himself after breakfast, promising to be back in the square by eleven o’clock in time to meet his parents for the funeral.

First, he needed to buy some food. He cycled up into town, taking the climb gently to avoid breaking into too much of a sweat; his unfamiliar formal clothing felt constricting about the arms and neck compared to his usual, softer attire.

He coasted through the tunnel and dismounted in the square, wheeling his midnight-blue mountain bike past the cathedral steps and along the bumpy paving stones of Via Roma. He leaned the bike against the wall of Salvatore’s grocery store and stepped inside.

It was pleasantly cool in the dimly-lit store, which was crowded with shelves that groaned with fresh, dry, bottled and canned produce from floor to ceiling. Toto’s father, a thin man with receding, dark hair, greeted him from behind the battered old wooden counter.

“Buongiorno, Daniele,” Salvatore said, sombrely taking in Daniele’s black tie. “I see you’ll be joining us for the funeral.”

“Buongiorno, signore,” Daniele replied. “You’re going, too?”

Salvatore nodded. “Marina was a loyal customer throughout my time here. On balance, I think I can afford to close the shop for an hour or two.”

“How’s Toto?” Daniele asked.

Salvatore’s brow creased in a troubled frown. “I’m afraid he hasn’t been at all his usual self since his argument with Michele.”

“What’s it all about?” Daniele pressed. “Michele said Toto finished with him. It just… doesn’t make sense. After everything it took to get them together last year, I kinda thought they’d be together forever.”

Salvatore sighed. “I’m afraid you’re talking to the wrong man,” he replied. “I’ve never been much help to Toto when it comes to his relationship with Michele.”

A short while later, a few Euros poorer but no closer to an answer, Daniele emerged from the shop with a loaf of bread, some cheese and a bag of oranges. He placed them in his pannier bag and wheeled the bike carefully back out into the open surroundings of the square, which buzzed quietly with early morning crowd. Visitors parted around him, paying little attention to the lone teenage boy with a bike.

For once, Daniele paid the other visitors equally little regard, so focused was he on his mission. Climbing back aboard, he cycled back out through tunnel and set off for Sambuco, pedalling gently along the main road. The breeze he created ruffled his hair as he went, taking the edge off the fierce morning sun, and he enjoyed the fleeting sense of freedom that it gave him.

Once he had coasted down into the Sambuco valley, he concealed the bike behind the log pile and set off down the scruffy concrete staircase, carrying his shopping under one arm. Soon he was under the dappled shade of the grape vines, and he welcomed the break from the heat. He reached up with his free hand, trailing it through the lush green foliage and bunches of ripening fruit. He wondered whether Sami had thought to help himself to any of the bounty that could be found among the vineyard that surrounded the house.

Daniele’s last visit to the semi-derelict property had left a vivid impression on his mind. He had been half expecting to encounter Marco again, but the rubbish-strewn yard was deserted. He crossed the tatty space and rounded the corner of the house, following the broken concrete path past the open kitchen windows.

The front door was unlocked. Within, the entrance hallway was every bit as dark and joyless as Daniele remembered it from his last visit, full of peeling plaster and dusty old cobwebs. He made his way carefully to the kitchen door, eyes adjusting to the gloom as he went.

Daniele squinted as he stepped through into kitchen and back into the bright sunlight. It streamed in through the two east-facing windows, lighting the room with a harsh glare; but, for all its elevating power, it couldn’t quite conceal how dirty and dishevelled the room had become.

Still, the scruffy old kitchen showed some signs of life. Judging by the pile of rinsed plates on the draining board, it looked like Sami had running water and had at least been trying to look after himself properly. Daniele wondered if he, himself, could have managed so much at only seven years old.

“Sami?” he called, placing the groceries down on the battered old wooden dining table.

The door to the back room clicked open, and Sami’s dark brown eyes appeared at the doorway, peering cautiously into the kitchen. When he saw that Daniele was alone, he hurried into the room and threw his skinny arms around Daniele’s waist.

“Daniele!” he piped up tearfully.

“Ciao, Sami.”

Daniele gave the little boy a hug in return, then prised him gently away from his waist and looked him up and down. Since their last meeting, Sami looked like someone had cleaned him up a bit. He also seemed to be wearing one of Marco’s faded old check shirts, which trailed down to somewhere just above his knees. It looked like Marco had done a lot more than just bring the younger boy food: he might even have taken his old clothes away to be washed.

“How are you?” Daniele asked in English.

Sami sniffled a little and wiped his nose miserably with a small hand.

“I… good…” he replied in Italian.

Daniele blinked. “Do you understand me?” he asked.

Sami stared at him blankly. He gave no indication that he had made sense of Daniele’s words.

Daniele shrugged and led Sami to the table. “Bread, for you,” he said, showing the little boy each item in turn and emphasising the Italian words as he went. “Cheese, and oranges.”

Sami’s eyes widened when he saw the oranges, and he fell on the bag at once. Soon, he had one of the plump fruit in his grasp. It looked enormous in his small hands as he scrabbled for purchase on its tough skin.

Daniele took a knife from a block on the worktop and lifted the orange gently from the little boy’s clutches. He made a small incision next to the stalk end and handed it back to Sami, who was soon tearing the thick skin off to access the juicy segments of fruit within.

“Grazie,” he said around a mouthful of fruit. He reached into his pocket and produced a battered scrap of paper, which he handed to Daniele.

I’ll come again on Friday, he read. Sami will need more food by Sunday. Marco.

“Thanks, Sami,” Daniele said, pocketing the short note thoughtfully.

So, it seemed Marco did mean to keep up his end of the deal and was in it for the long term. That, at least, would give Daniele more time to think about how best to help Sami.

* * *

When Daniele had spent as much time with Sami as he could spare, he cycled back to town to meet his parents in the square. He chained his bicycle to a lamppost in the shade of the pine trees and sat down on one of the stone benches to wait for them, listening to the enthusiastic scraping of the cicadas in the high canopies, the gentle cooing of the pigeons and the quiet babble of conversation from the visitors and passers-by.

The cathedral doors were already open, and a few funeralgoers were already starting to arrive. They drifted up the steps in twos, threes and fours, all dressed sombrely in shades of dark grey and black. A lot of them were elderly folk, probably members of the cathedral congregation who had known Marina of old, but there were also a few younger mourners. Pietro and Anna arrived, looking as elegant as ever; Marta Rossi appeared, accompanied by Claudia, who looked unusually subdued in a long black dress; Daniele also spotted Salvatore and Toto, who walked in together from Via Roma, talking quietly to one another.

Daniele’s parents arrived a few minutes later. Patrizia had also donned a black dress and had tied her long blond hair up with a black ribbon. Paolo wore a traditional suit and black tie, his short brown hair neatly combed. Daniele rose to meet them.

“Ready, champ?” Paolo asked as he approached.

“I guess so,” Daniele replied anxiously.

“This is your first funeral, isn’t it, caro?” Patrizia asked.

Daniele nodded. “Yes.”

“It’ll be okay,” she replied, reaching out to take his hand. “Come on in with us.”

* * *

Afterwards, Daniele thought, it could have been worse.

Marina’s coffin was carried into the cathedral by six pallbearers; Gianni and Angelo took the lead. Daniele also recognised Sergio, Anna’s father, helping to bear the rear end of the casket.

Gianni was stoical throughout the service, demonstrating typical British self-restraint. Angelo sat beside him throughout, holding his hand, except for the few minutes when Gianni had to stand up and give an address. To Daniele’s relief, the young man managed to do so without stumbling over his lines.

“Nonna welcomed me to Ravello at a time of my life when everything I thought I knew had been taken away from me. Even though she had never met me, she took me into her home and gave me what I needed most of all – security and stability.

“I know the events of that summer didn’t unfold quite the way she would have wanted. I wasn’t able to join her at church, and my relationship with Angelo was a challenge for everyone. But, in the end, she came through for me.

“I’ll be forever grateful to Nonna – and Nonno, may he rest in peace – for giving me a fresh start and a chance to have the happiest life I could ask for. And,” he added, gesturing out at the crowd, “I’d like to thank all her friends who are here today for being there for her, at a time that was probably as difficult for her as it was for me.”

Before launching into the scripture that had been selected for him to read, he paused to adjust his tie, his eyes lowered for a moment. Around the cathedral, particularly among the older mourners, there were a few sniffles, and some of them dabbed at their eyes. In the brief silence, Daniele’s found his eyes drifting to the coffin, which stood at the front of the cathedral, wreathed in flowers. There was something so mundane and final about the sight of it that he even felt a lump coming to his own throat, and he clutched his mother’s hand for support.

Father Stefano presided over the service with a sympathetic air. There were hymns, prayers and moments of quiet reflection. Daniele did his best to sing along, even though he and his parents weren’t in the habit of going to church and he didn’t really know the tunes.

Toto and Salvatore, Daniele noticed, sat separately from Michele and his parents. Gloomily, Daniele wondered how bad things had got between them, and whether they were all still talking to each other.

Afterwards, the congregation filed out and watched from the steps as the coffin was carried to a hearse that waited by the tunnel, ready to conduct Marina to her final resting place at the town cemetery. Gianni, Angelo, Pietro, Anna and the rest of the pallbearers followed by car, ready to attend the more private committal.

“Are you all right, caro?” Patrizia asked Daniele as they watched the others leave.

Daniele nodded. “It was sad. I didn’t even really know Marina, but…” he tailed off.

“Attending your first funeral is never easy,” Paolo assured him. “I still remember mine – I can’t have been much older than you. I think it was some old aunt or other… I barely knew her, but I found myself tearing up all the same.” He shrugged. “There’s just something about a funeral that brings the reality of death home in a way that little else can.”

“Do you think Gianni will be okay?”

“It’ll get better for him after this, tesoro,” Patrizia said. “A funeral helps to provide closure. It’s an important step towards moving on.”

* * *

The next morning, Daniele returned to the square, dressed in his familiar old lavender tie-dye t-shirt. He was due to meet Emilia for an ice cream. As he walked past the little row of gift shops, he watched a few early visitors browsing the hand-glazed bowls, plates and salt and pepper shakers. Decorated with local motifs of lemons, flowers and grapes, they spilled out over the edge of the street in a chaotically colourful fashion.

In the square, the pigeons pecked around the feet of the breakfasting crowd and the air carried a delicate scent of coffee and pine needles. He made his way across the paving stones towards the railings under the pine trees to admire the view over to Scala, whose terraced slopes and scattered white houses shimmered in the bright, hazy morning.

He slowed down as he realised that their usual bench was already occupied. Toto was sitting there with Claudia and, from the uncharacteristically serious look on Claudia’s face, it looked as if Toto was in the middle of a confessional in relation to his bust-up with Michele.

Daniele hesitated, wondering whether he should make himself scarce, but the others had already caught sight of him. Toto beckoned him over.

“Ciao, Dani,” he said. His intelligent brown eyes had a tired look about them, as if he hadn’t been sleeping well. “How are you?”

Claudia smiled and tipped him a wave.

“I’m okay,” Daniele replied. Part of him was desperate to open up about all his own problems, but he sensed this wasn’t the time.

“I guess you’ve been wondering what’s happening with Michele and me,” Toto said. “You looked pretty gutted when you saw us the other day.”

Daniele nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Why did you finish with Michele, Toto? I don’t get it. Not after everything you guys went through last year.”

Toto frowned slightly. “That’s not exactly what I did.”

Daniele shrugged. “That’s how Michele took it.”

Claudia nudged the other boy in the ribs. “See, Toto?” she hissed. “It’s just like Bella said.”

“He was a mess,” Daniele said dismally. “What’s going on? Don’t you love him anymore?”

Toto bridled. “Of course I love him!” he insisted.

“Then why…?”

“He’s better off without me, that’s all,” Toto muttered evasively.

Daniele shook his head. “I’ve heard that already. What does it mean?”

Claudia gave her friend a frustrated glance.

“Toto thinks he’s being a hero,” she sighed, “because he’s just realised how long Michele will have to wait for him when he eventually goes away to university.”

“But that’s not for two years yet!” Daniele protested.

“Not the point,” Toto said. “I just think it would be better if we were friends, like we were before. Then Michele can move on.”

“What makes you think he wants to move on?” Claudia said. “That boy came out for you, Toto, and he was probably the most in person I’ve ever seen… He doesn’t want you to martyr yourself for him. He wants to be with you!”

Daniele nodded. “Anyway, do you really think he’ll want to be friends, after this?” he added.

Toto gave each of them an injured glance. “Do you have to be so insightful, Dani?” He ran a hand through his tousled hair. “This isn’t fair. Now you’re ganging up on me.”

Claudia gave Daniele an approving glance. “I don’t think it’s ganging up if we’re both just speaking the truth.”

“I only wanted to do the right thing,” Toto said weakly. “Have I really just made a total mess of this?”

Claudia nodded. “The sort of mess only a boy could make,” she replied. “And now your friends have to pick up the pieces again. You’re missing Michele, and he’s bound to be missing you, even while he’s hating you for dumping him for no obvious reason. Meanwhile, I’m missing Bella, who’s too busy to meet up with me because Michele’s crying on her shoulder!”

“Jesus, Claudia,” Toto said respectfully. “You have a way with words sometimes.”

“So?” Claudia pressed. “Are you going to talk to him, or what?”

Toto shrugged slightly. “I think I’ll give him a few days. He didn’t exactly give me a chance to explain myself last time.”

Claudia rolled her eyes. “Can you blame him?”

“What’s going on?” asked a new voice.

Emilia had arrived. She stood watching the three of them curiously, neatly turned out in her usual practical clothing, but with an added flourish: for the first time, she had cinched her white blouse about her waist with a belt. Daniele noticed, slightly uncomfortably, how it emphasised her budding figure.

“Ciao, Emilia,” Toto said, raising a hand in greeting.

“We were just helping Toto with his relationship problems,” Claudia replied dryly.

“Sounds serious,” Emilia said politely.

Claudia shook her head. “Just predictable and entirely avoidable boy stuff,” she said, “but I think we’re starting to make Toto realise what an imbecile he’s been.”

“Thanks, Claudia,” Toto grumbled. “I’m so glad I turned to you for support.”

“Are you ready, Dani?” Emilia asked.

Daniele nodded. “Sure.”

“Where’s Giacomo got to, Dani?” Toto queried. “I’ve seen you with Emilia now and then but, otherwise, you seem to have been flying solo a lot lately.”

“Oh, he’s been… busy,” Daniele replied evasively. “See you later, guys.”

Daniele and Emilia walked together to the ice cream parlour at the corner of Via Roma. The shop offered a dazzlingly colourful display of different varieties, ranging from traditional creamy flavours to exotic fruit blends and tangy citrus sorbets. They each ordered a double cone: Emilia opted for black cherry and vanilla, while Daniele went for chocolate and honeycomb, an old favourite of his. Without really thinking about it, he offered to pay for them both using his bank card.

“Thanks, Dani,” Emilia said, looking slightly pink as she returned her wallet to her jeans pocket.

“No worries,” Daniele replied. “You can return the favour sometime if you like.”

“Sure…” Emilia said, giving him a slightly uncertain look.

They adjourned to the shade of the umbrella pines, and took a spot against the railings, looking out over the valley as they ate.

“Laura went off on her own again this morning,” Emilia said, “although she said she’d be back by lunchtime, for once.”

“No need to guess where she’s gone,” Daniele replied.

Emilia nodded. “She’s finally going to spend the afternoon with me, though. About time… it’s been so weird. Whenever she’s visited before, we’ve always been really tight.”

Daniele glanced at her curiously. “What are you going to do?”

Emilia grimaced slightly. “Shopping in Amalfi. Mamma’s going to drive us down. But, you know… it’s better than nothing.”

Daniele grinned. “That sounds like Laura.”

“Maybe I’ll get a summer dress…” Emilia said thoughtfully. “It’s about time I had a new one.”

“A dress?” Daniele repeated in surprise.

“Hey!” Emilia punched him hard on the arm; Daniele stared at her in shock. “I am a girl, you know,” she scolded him. “I may not look like it, but I don’t just want to wear jeans all the time.”

Daniele gave her a shamefaced smile. “Okay. Sorry.”

Emilia paused for a moment, and then she giggled. “The look on your face just then…” she said.

Daniele, however, still felt he had some ground to make up. “I didn’t mean to say… I mean, I’m sure you’ll look very nice in it.”

“Do you really think so?” Emilia asked.

Daniele flushed slightly, now highly embarrassed. “Ah… you know. Yeah.”

“Dani…” Emilia said, but then she stopped.

Here they were again. Daniele sensed his friend had something important to ask that she was struggling to get out.

She likes you, Giacomo’s teasing voice echoed in his head.

“Yes…?” Daniele prompted.

Emilia took a deep breath. “There’s a concert on the main stage at the Villa Rufolo gardens on Saturday night,” she said. “Do you remember, I told you I could get you in there for free any time? Well… I can’t get us proper seats, but I’m sure they’d let us watch from the side-lines. Do you want to… you know, go?”

Having finally spat out the question, she dropped her eyes, inspecting her trainers and flushing furiously.

Daniele regarded her thoughtfully, weighing the question in his mind. It may not have been what he had been looking for, but lately Emilia had been finding it harder and harder to conceal her interest. They were bound to have to confront it together at some point.

Once again, Daniele revisited the image of Giacomo and Laura standing together on the belvedere. He had to do something to break the cycle.

Warily, Emilia glanced back up at him, waiting for his answer.

Daniele smiled at her and nodded. “Sure.”

* * *

Daniele spent the hottest part of the afternoon in his room at home, working on one of his stories on the laptop computer he had been given for his birthday. In his latest composition, the plucky young hero was on a quest to rescue the boy of his dreams from the clutches of the evil American criminal Hector Black. However, Daniele was struggling with the denouement. He was no longer so sure that the story was heading for a happy ending.

He began to realise that his heart wasn’t really in it, and he found himself pondering his forthcoming date with Emilia instead. Because it was a date, wasn’t it? She had made that pretty clear.

What would Emilia be expecting from him when the time came? And what did he, Daniele, want to come out of it? When Emilia had kissed him on the cheek once before, he hadn’t hated it… but could he really imagine her as his girlfriend?

After a while, he gave up on the writing and shut the computer down. For whatever reason, it just wasn’t working for him today. He flopped back onto his bed, bored, and waved his hand around above him, imagining the invisible dust motes in the air dancing around it.

From out in the hallway, he heard a knock at the front door, followed by footsteps as his mother came to answer it. There were voices, and then Daniele’s bedroom door cracked open slightly and Giacomo slipped inside. Daniele sat up abruptly.

This time, Giacomo was alone. He was looking unbearably smart in a slim fit shirt and navy blue shorts. His short spiky hair was as neat as ever, and his dark eyes were alert under his fine black eyebrows. Daniele was forcibly reminded of how the other boy had managed to catch his eye in the first place.

“Ciao, Dani,” Giacomo said, venturing a smile. “How’ve you been?”

Daniele shrugged awkwardly. “Ciao, Giaco.”

“I missed you on Saturday,” Giacomo went on. “Why didn’t you come?”

“I did,” Daniele said quietly.

Giacomo frowned in confusion. “I don’t understand.”

“I came, but…”

It was all a bit too much. Daniele looked away, staring determinedly towards one of the small windows by the head of the bed. Outside, the rugged coast shimmered in the distance. Unbidden, the tears that he dreaded came again, and he tried to blink them away.

Giacomo apparently wasn’t so willing to be put off. He sat down next to Daniele with a determined air, perching on the edge of the mattress, which sagged down with a creaking of springs. He faltered when he saw a tear roll down Daniele’s cheek, and he raised a hand to wipe it gently away. Daniele shrank back slightly from his touch.

“I don’t like seeing you like this,” Giacomo said. “What’s wrong?”

“Can’t you tell?” Daniele asked desperately.

Giacomo’s expression cleared a little. “This is about Laura, isn’t it?”

“I saw you,” Daniele confessed. “After what happened with Gianni’s grandmother, I wanted to talk to you. I came looking for you, and I saw you and Laura on the belvedere.”

“Oh, Jesus…” Giacomo murmured, understanding registering in his dark eyes for a moment, but then he frowned a little. “That was kinda… private, Dani.”

“I didn’t mean to spy on you,” Daniele protested. “I just heard voices. I didn’t even know who it was until I looked, and then… I saw everything.”

Giacomo’s shoulders sagged a little. “What a mess,” he muttered.

“I…” Daniele tailed off, staring miserably at the other boy.

Giacomo looked back at him with wide eyes; he seemed quite lost. “Dani… I know you like me,” he said. “But, you know… I’ve never said that I…”

Daniele knew what the other boy was going to say, and he didn’t need to hear it. “I know,” he interrupted. “But…”

“It still hurts?” Giacomo offered uncertainly.

Daniele nodded and cast his eyes down to the ceramic tiled floor. Giacomo reached for him, then seemed to think the better of it and dropped his hand.

“There’s something else,” Giacomo said hesitantly.

“What?”

Giacomo took a deep breath. “Laura rang me after lunch. She told me you and Emilia are going on a date?”

Daniele glanced back up at him. “So…?”

Giacomo frowned. “Why, Dani?”

“She asked me out,” Daniele replied.

Giacomo seemed less than satisfied with his answer. “Yeah, but since when do you think of her that way?”

Daniele shrugged. “I’m just trying to move on.”

“It’s just…” Giacomo bit his lip anxiously. “She really likes you, you know.”

Daniele shot him a look. “I thought you thought that was funny?”

Giacomo shook his head. “Teasing you both about a crush is one thing,” he said seriously. “This is… something else. Just don’t hurt her, okay?”

“You can talk,” Daniele said quietly.

Giacomo sighed and took the rebuke. “Look, I’m sorry I haven’t been around.”

“I just miss you,” Daniele said awkwardly. “That’s all.”

“I miss you, too,” Giacomo replied earnestly. “I miss our jokes and games. I miss messing around with you, going for bike rides and stuff and… just hanging out.”

Daniele gave him a pained look. “Then why…?”

Giacomo spread his arms helplessly. “This is all new for me, too!” he burst out. “I don’t know what I’m doing. Spending every day with Laura is really intense, but I don’t know to slow it down without hurting her feelings, and… I haven’t even been able to talk about it with my best friend.”

His dark eyes flicked to Daniele and gave him a searching look. Startled by the other boy’s outburst and the feelings it had revealed, Daniele was momentarily lost for words.

“I… can’t be a third wheel,” he said at length.

Giacomo shrugged and inspected his fingernails. “I get that,” he murmured. “But if I can get some time away from Laura, like today, would you hang out with me again…? Please?”

Daniele nodded. “Sure, I guess.”

Giacomo sprang forward and pulled Daniele into an embrace. “Thanks, Dani,” he whispered into his ear.

The sensation was almost too much for Daniele to bear. Fortunately, Giacomo pulled back before it could overwhelm him. For a moment, they sat close together, looking uncertainly at each other. Confused beyond measure, Daniele was lost in a sea of jumbled emotions. And, for a fleeting moment, he thought he could see an echo of his own struggle reflected in the other boy’s dark eyes.

Giacomo’s hand seemed to inch towards Daniele’s own for a moment, but perhaps that was just wishful thinking. Instead, the dark-eyed boy placed his arm around Daniele’s shoulders and pulled him closer until their heads were touching.

“Friends?” Giacomo asked tentatively.

“Okay,” Daniele replied quietly.

Giacomo rose to his feet. “Then do you want to go out for a bit? I’ve been doing girl-friendly stuff for days. I really want to just, you know… climb a tree, or something.”

Daniele nodded, and this time the other boy did take his hand, lifting him off the bed. The perpetually hopeful part of Daniele didn’t want him to let go, but he did.

“Where do you want to go?” Giacomo asked.

“Toto and Michele’s olive grove?” Daniele suggested.

“Cool.”

Giacomo watched while Daniele crouched down to put on his shoes. Daniele gave his hair a quick brush, and soon he was standing at the ready in his lavender tie-dye t-shirt, beige shorts and white trainers.

“Just like old times,” Giacomo said with a smile. “I’m glad you’re with me again, Dani.”

Daniele did his best to smile back, although it still felt as if something had changed between them.

“Just don’t put my life in danger this time,” he said, in a brave attempt at a joke.

Giacomo grinned. “Would I ever…?”

* * *

At eight o’clock on Saturday night, amid the lengthening shadows and golden light of the dying day, Daniele arrived in the cathedral square. He was dressed in the smartest, most grown-up clothes he owned, which consisted of a pale blue, long-sleeved shirt and a pair of light khaki slacks that Toto and Michele had bought him last year.

It was a balmy evening, and the scent of good food permeated the air as people relaxed at the bars around the square. Daniele trailed across the square to their usual bench under the pine trees and sat, watching the world go by, while he waited for his date.

He scanned the crowds, looking for someone he could relate to. He saw families, married couples and groups of friends, and even a few singletons, but nobody whose situation compared to his own.

That was until he saw a young couple that he didn’t know. She was standing, waiting, at the foot of the cathedral steps, wearing a figure-hugging skirt and blouse, hair immaculately styled; he was approaching apprehensively from Via Roma, just as smartly dressed, carrying a small bunch of roses. He handed her the flowers, they kissed each other on the cheek, and set off hand in hand. It looked like a date to Daniele, and he took heart from the knowledge that he wasn’t alone.

Someone cleared their throat nearby, and he glanced around to find that Emilia had arrived. For a moment, he was stunned by her transformation: she was wearing a long summer dress, cut from a lightweight fabric with a stripy pattern in pastel green, cinched about her waist as her blouse had been on Thursday morning. Her hair was neatly pinned, and she sported a white flower above her right ear.

Daniele rose to his feet.

“Ciao, Emilia,” he said. “You look amazing.”

She smiled and looked a little embarrassed.

“Laura helped me choose my outfit,” she said. “I’m not sure it’s really me.”

The decorative lanterns around the square sputtered into life as the sun sank below the mountains across the valley. Among the terraced slopes of Scala, daisy chains of white and gold lights were already shining.

“Are you ready to go?” Daniele asked.

Emilia nodded and took his hand. Her hand was soft, dry and warm to the touch. They walked together across the square, catching the odd indulgent glance from passers-by and the guests at the bars.

They approached the ancient stonework of the Villa Rufolo gatehouse. Passing under a pointed archway edged with black stones, they found themselves on an earthen driveway, a leafy tunnel lined with fine old trees. Lamps cast pools of gentle light on the dusty ground, and crickets chirruped in the hedges and shrubs. Emilia separated herself from Daniele briefly to speak to the woman at the kiosk, and then they continued on their way, hands twined together once again.

They passed through a stone cloister. Here and there, other well-dressed couples lurked, clutching their concert tickets. Under the steadily darkening sky and the warm glow of the low-level lighting, Daniele and Emilia ascended into an ornamental garden full of colourful flower borders. Gently, Emilia pulled Daniele towards a side turning and led him onto a panoramic terrace with terracotta floor tiles and stone columns that supported a pergola of rustic chestnut poles. Majestic bougainvillea plants scrambled up the columns, yielding carpets of vibrant magenta flowers that seemed to shine in the gloom.

They paused at the balustrade to admire the view. From where they stood, they could look straight down the mountainside to the shimmering lights of Minori and Maiori at the water’s edge. Immediately below them, a flight of stone stairs descended to a formal flower garden that burst with colour even in the dwindling light.

At the far side of the flower garden stood the main festival stage. Built on an overhanging scaffold, it seemed to float out over the dark blue sea and the purple mountains beyond. On the stage sat a full orchestra in formal wear, their immaculately polished brass, strings and woodwind glinting under the stage lighting.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Emilia breathed.

Daniele nodded. “I’ve heard about this, but… I’ve never seen it.” He glanced at her with a shamefaced smile. “I mean, I don’t know much about classical music.”

Emilia shrugged. “Neither do I, although my dad listens to it sometimes.” Her eyes shone in the semi-darkness. “I just thought this was somewhere special we could come to, you know… be together.”

Below them, concert-goers were already making their way down to the tiered seating that had been set up opposite the stage.

“Where do you want to sit?” Daniele asked.

Emilia peered over the balustrade, looking doubtfully down at the lower level. If they went down there, they would be overshadowed by everyone else.

“How about right here?” she suggested.

There was a wooden bench at the back of the terrace. Pulling it forward, they rested it close to the balustrade so they could watch the show in relative privacy, partially screened by the climbing plants. None of the concert-goers who were passing on the steps paid them much attention, focused as they were on finding their allocated seats.

When everyone had settled down, the conductor rose to his feet and the concert began.

At first, the music was quiet, carried only by the strings. Daniele listened curiously, not overly engrossed, but then the brass players joined the performance and the music rose to a dramatic crescendo. Daniele’s breath caught in his throat, swept up for a moment by the depth and grandeur of it. He and Emilia leant forwards a little, their attention, for the moment, thoroughly captured.

“Wow,” he murmured. “I didn’t know music could, you know… swell like this.”

Emilia’s hand found his own again, and he glanced at her.

“Are you glad you came to live here, Dani?” she asked.

Daniele nodded. “Totally. I was never so happy in Milan.”

“It took you a while to make any friends.”

“I’ve always been different,” Daniele said thoughtfully. “I was different in the city, and I was different when I came here.” He smiled. “But, here, I’ve finally found people who like me for who I am.”

“I like how you’re different,” Emilia replied. “You’re not like all the other boys. There’s… more there, somehow.”

Daniele laughed. “You’re starting to sound like Toto and Claudia. They call me soulful.”

“They’re right. I’m sorry it took me so long to see it.”

“Ah, c’mon,” Daniele replied, embarrassed.

Emilia just smiled.

“What about you?” Daniele went on, seeking to turn the conversational tables. “You’re not exactly like all the other girls, either.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“I can talk to you, and we have fun together. Claudia and Isabella can make me squirm, and they know it. Even with Laura, I don’t know what to say.” He smiled helplessly. “Apart from them, I’ve hardly spoken to another girl.”

Emilia cocked her head, challenging him slightly. “Thanks, I guess.”

Daniele wasn’t sure his last comment had landed quite the right way. “Do you… want to get closer?” he asked.

Emilia nodded and scrunched in next to him. Now, he could smell the fresh citrus scent of the shampoo she must have used to wash her hair earlier. It wasn’t unpleasant. Her arm snaked around his waist, and she rested her head on his shoulder. Wanting to show his appreciation, he reciprocated, placing an arm around her shoulders.

It was a little like a dream. Although, in his actual dreams, hadn’t there been someone else beside him?

Randomly, inappropriately, an image from his recent afternoon with Giacomo slipped into his mind: his friend, halfway up an olive tree, rubbing his wrists together intently in a passable imitation of a cicada. Daniele shrugged it off and tried to turn his concentration back to the music, which had segued into a floaty, romantic movement.

“I wish this would never end,” Emilia said.

To his surprise, Daniele found that he felt the same. Outside this garden, all his real-life doubts and problems still awaited him, but here, in this moment, nothing else seemed to matter. He felt as if the two of them were adrift in a sea of flowers, warm lights and music, the real world miles away. He tightened his grip around Emilia’s shoulder, and she shifted into him some more.

“Thanks for inviting me, Emilia,” he said quietly.

“I wouldn’t want to be here with anyone else,” she murmured.

The music soared as whatever story it was telling reached its romantic zenith, and Daniele and Emilia sat up with renewed attention. Above them, the moon shone brightly down on the two teens on the terrace, mixing softly with the warm glow from the low-level lighting.

They turned towards each other at the same moment, and Daniele was paralysed by the thought that something unexpected was about to happen. Emilia leaned forwards, and he felt himself respond. They closed their eyes, and she touched her lips gently to his own.

For a moment, even the music was driven from Daniele’s mind, but then Emilia pulled back, and the spell was broken. Daniele opened his eyes, suddenly unsure of himself, a confused jumble of images and memories flooding into his mind: memories of sun and adventure but, foremost among them, Giacomo’s dark eyes peeping out at him from under a duvet cover.

“Wow…” Daniele said uncertainly, unconsciously imitating the very word the other boy had used on the belvedere.

At first, Emilia smiled, but then she faltered, apparently sensing some of the confusion in Daniele’s mind.

“What’s wrong…?” she said.

“I’m not sure,” Daniele replied. “I…” He cast his blue eyes down to look at his fingernails.

“Didn’t you like it?” Emilia asked anxiously.

“Yes, of course I liked it, but…” Daniele tailed off.

“You didn’t feel it,” Emilia said quietly.

“I thought I would, but…”

Emilia’s brown eyes studied him intently. Daniele shrank back from the knowledge that he began to see forming there.

“Marco was right,” she breathed.

“No…” Daniele said desperately.

“I’ve been so blind. It’s Giacomo you really like, isn’t it? It has been all along.”

She got to her feet. Daniele rose to stop her, but she tugged her hand away.

“Thanks for a lovely evening,” she said, her voice uncharacteristically tight, “but I think I’m going to go home now.”

“Wait, please…” Daniele entreated her. “I’m sorry. I really wanted this to go well, I swear.”

Emilia shook her head. “Let’s just forget it, shall we? I’ll see you around, Dani.”

She turned and hurried away, dabbing at her eyes with one hand. Wretchedly, Daniele watched his last friend vanish into the night, the moonlight turning his soft blond hair silver in the darkness.