Lanterns in the Dark - 5. Chapter 5

August rolled in with an unbroken run of hot, dusty days and warm nights. Even as the summer threatened to tip past its colourful best, visitor numbers in the town continued to swell as Daniele’s parents entered their busiest month of the year. Paolo was out for hours each day, ferrying tourists around in his taxi, while Patrizia was asked to pick up extra shifts at the hotel, which was now fully booked.

In the days that followed his abortive date with Emilia, Daniele sunk into a lonely sort of gloom. Emilia, he imagined, wouldn’t be prepared to talk to him again any time soon. With Giacomo otherwise engaged and his group of older friends also torn asunder, Daniele reverted to wandering about on his own, seeking distraction in the lives of other people wherever he could find it. It was a lot like it had been after he first moved to Ravello, before fate had caused him to cross paths with Toto and Michele and he had begun to make friends.

The morning after the date, Daniele made another trip to visit Sami in Sambuco. He was pleased to see that Marco had visited again; Sami’s original clothes had been returned to him, freshly laundered, and he had been supplied with more food. Briefly, Daniele wondered how Marco had explained the dirty clothes to his parents, and he realised that he knew little of the other boy’s home life. He wondered if Marco might actually have washed and dried the clothes himself.

The little African boy seemed healthy enough, but he was painfully clingy. Even though they could barely communicate, Daniele could tell that he was desperately lonely and frightened. There had still been no sign of his aunt and uncle, and it seemed clearer by the day that they weren’t going to come back. Daniele realised that, if he was going to talk to anyone about Sami’s situation, he would have to do it soon.

On Monday afternoon, Daniele arrived in the square on one of his aimless circuits of the town. As he glanced around the quietly bustling space, he caught sight of Gianni. The young man was sitting alone at Daniele’s usual bench, and he was studying papers of some kind. At first, Daniele thought Gianni had started drawing again, but then he saw the small pile of colourful books on the bench next to him and his curiosity was piqued. It was the same pile of books Patrizia had pulled out of the storage crates when they were clearing out Marina’s house.

Daniele walked uncertainly across the square towards Gianni, hoping for a chat, but prepared to pass by if it looked like a bad moment. The young man must have sensed his approach, because he looked up and greeted him with a smile.

“Ciao, Dani,” he said. “It’s nice to see you back in colours.”

“Colours?” Daniele queried, glancing down at his summery yellow tie-die t-shirt.

Gianni chuckled. “Black tie was a strange look for you. Not a bad look, per se… at a happier event, it might even have been dashing. But, still, you’ve always been such a ray of sunshine… you belong in happier colours.”

Daniele smiled. “Thanks, but I don’t know if I’m still the happy boy I used to be.”

Gianni’s brow creased slightly in sympathy. “Want to talk about it?”

Daniele nodded. “I guess.”

“Sit with me for a while, then.” Gianni said.

Daniele slid down onto the bench and took a breath as he tried to work out where to start.

“Well, for one thing,” he said, “there’s Toto and Michele…”

Gianni nodded. “Yes, I heard about that. But don’t worry, Claudia’s on the case. She’ll give them a shake, I’m sure.”

“And then there’s Giacomo and Emilia…”

Daniele launched into an explanation of Giacomo’s preoccupation with his new girlfriend, and his disastrous date with Emilia. He left out some of the details of why Emilia had been so upset, but Gianni wasn’t fooled.

“You’ve certainly had a lot to contend with,” the young man conceded. He hesitated. “I’m guessing that it wasn’t Emilia who was disappointed by the kiss?”

Daniele flushed. “I really thought I would be more into it.”

“Tell me,” Gianni said gently. “Would you have agreed to go out with Emilia so quickly if Giacomo hadn’t discovered a sudden interest in girls?”

Daniele looked defencelessly up into the young man’s keen blue gaze. He supposed Gianni had a point. He could no more lie to him than he could lie to himself.

“I thought Angelo was supposed to be the mind reader?” he said in a small voice.

Gianni smiled slightly. “Maybe he’s taught me a thing or two.”

He put a tentative arm around Daniele’s shoulders.

“The old Dani is still there, inside you,” Gianni went on. “He’s just going through a tough time at the moment. Nobody can stay happy and sunny all the time.”

Daniele appreciated the gesture, and he took some comfort from the young man’s words. As he did so, he realised the young man might have a few troubles that he needed to share, too.

“What about you?” Daniele asked. “How are you doing?”

“I’m okay,” Gianni replied neutrally. “Nonna’s affairs aren’t proving that difficult to sort out, and Angelo and Marta have both been brilliant.”

“What about the house? Have you spoken to Anna?”

Gianni smiled. “Anna knew all about it. Apparently, they discussed it before Nonna amended her will. Anna said she made clear that she and Pietro would be fine. The business is doing well, and they have the support of the whole Rossi family behind them, as well as Anna’s father.”

“So, you’ll keep it?”

Gianni shrugged. “Maybe,” he replied. “We’re still deciding.”

“What are these books?” Daniele asked, gesturing at the pile on the bench next to Gianni.

Gianni gave him a thoughtful look. “My mother’s diaries,” he said. “She kept writing them right up to the time she left Ravello to marry my father. And Nonna kept them all – can you believe it?”

Daniele shook his head. “How old was she when she left?”

“She was nineteen, working as a waitress at one of these very bars. My dad was a few years older – he’d already started building up a decent business empire back in London.”

Daniele frowned. “But if he was in London, how did they meet?”

“I’ll have to go back a bit further to answer that,” Gianni replied.

Daniele nodded. “Go on.”

“All right, then. My paternal grandfather, Giacomo Fortuna…”

“Giacomo?” Daniele repeated with a smile.

“That’s right,” Gianni chuckled. “He was born in Ravello, back when it was just a tumbledown mountain village known only to a select few. He escaped from service in Italy during the reign of il Duce, Mussolini. He made it to England, but he was injured during his escape. He was nursed back to health by a young English woman named Mary Allen, and they fell in love and got married.”

Daniele listened with wide eyes. “That was a long time ago…”

Gianni nodded. “They had very little money, and they didn’t want to bring a child into the world until they could afford to. My dad’s poor upbringing was one of the reasons he went into business at a young age.

“Anyway,” he went on, “once his business was doing well, he came to Ravello to find his roots. One night, when he was visiting one of the bars, my mum was waiting tables… and the rest is history, I guess.”

“So, these diaries…” Daniele prompted.

Gianni smiled. “They chronicle my mum’s youth and her young adulthood, right up to the night of the row she had with Nonna when she found out that my mum was planning to run away with an Englishman who didn’t go to church.”

Daniele winced. “That sounds bad.”

Gianni inclined his head. “Nonna threw my mum out of the house that night. She told her to pack her things and leave. It was a heat of the moment thing, and I’m sure she regretted it right away, but…” He paused. “My mum had already been planning to go, you see… so she left and never looked back.” He sighed. “They never really spoke again after that.”

Gianni passed him one of the volumes. Daniele opened the front cover and glanced at the neat writing on the title page.

The diary of Francesca Bianchi, March 1987 –

There was no closing date.

“Isn’t it a bit weird, reading your Mamma’s private thoughts from years ago?” Daniele asked.

Gianni shrugged. “Maybe a little, but it’s nice to hear from her all the same. When I read the words she wrote, it brings her voice back to me, sort of like a part of her is alive again.” He smiled. “Take a look – I don’t mind.”

Daniele turned to a random page and read.

June 22^nd

Paul was back at the bar again today! He told me his first two visits had made an impression on him. This time, he asked me when my shift was due to finish. I told him right away… since we met, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about his beautiful blue eyes.

We went for a stroll up to the Toro. I didn’t dare tell him that we walked right past my house! While we were on the belvedere, he told me about his ice cream business in London. With the help of his business partner, Giancarlo (apparently from Verona, but I’ll try not to hold that against him), he said that they’d built it up from a two-bit domestic operation to a successful franchise in just five years.

I asked him what it was like in London, and he told me all sorts of tales. It sounds like an exciting and frightening place! The city that never sleeps, all bright lights and crowded places. And nobody minds if you don’t go to church.

Mamma knows that I have my doubts, but she’s always made me go along all the same. I wonder what she’d say if she knew about Paul? A man eight years older than me who can make me laugh way too much, and who spends his Sunday mornings in bed while other people march off to take communion!

She’d probably have a fit.

Daniele leafed through a few more pages. They charted Francesca’s secret encounters with Paul over the next several days. He settled on one of the final entries.

July 1^st

Paul took me back to the Villa Cimbrone today. While we were admiring the view from the terrace, he told me that his time in Ravello is ending soon. Although he has loved learning about his father’s homeland, he has to return to London for the sake of his business. I was crushed at first, until he told me that the thing he will miss the most about being here is… me!

And then he said that, when he goes home, would I be interested in going with him?

Just like that! I think I’ve just received a proposal of marriage!

I was so floored that I came over all giddy. I can’t remember exactly what I said, but it was something silly about needing a bit of time to think about it. Exactly what do I NEED to think about? I have no prospects here – just a life of waiting tables to please strangers. In London, I could educate myself, maybe learn to become something more than I am.

I guess I’d better talk to Mamma.

Daniele turned to the next page.

“There’s nothing,” he said in surprise, his eyes roving over the sea of blank lines that greeted him.

Gianni nodded gently. “That must have been the day they had their row. I told you it was sudden.”

“So… how do you know what happened after that?” Daniele asked.

“Anna told me enough to piece it together,” Gianni replied. “But I did also find this.”

The young man handed Daniele a loose piece of paper. It was a letter to Marina, written in the same gently slanting hand that had filled Francesca’s diary.

Dear Mamma,

I know it will come as a shock to hear from me after all these years. I hope you can forgive me for taking the coward’s way out and writing you a letter instead of speaking to you in person.

Paul and I have been married for over twenty years now. We are happy and have a nice house together in west London. His ice cream business goes from strength to strength, and I’ve helped him to make sure that his product is true to Neapolitan traditions.

In the first few years after we came here, I trained as a teacher, but I guess life had an alternative plan: we have a wonderful son! His name is Gianni, after your father. He’s a gentle soul who loves to read and draw. I’m sure you would like him.

Gianni is the real reason I’m writing to you after all this time. He’s going to be fifteen this year, but he knows virtually nothing about the land and culture that his family comes from. He deserves to know Ravello, and to know his grandparents while there’s still time.

I’m sorry for sneaking about, but I spoke to Sergio before writing this letter. I wanted to know how things were before I contacted you. He told me that you and Papà are both well and that you’re still living in your old house in the Toro.

I know we’ve had our problems, but I wonder if – for Gianni’s sake – you would agree to us visiting you in Ravello? We wouldn’t impose. We would find a hotel, and you could see as little or as much of us as you wanted.

I know this letter will bring up a lot of painful memories for you – writing it certainly did for me – so please take your time to think about it. Don’t rush to write. But I will be waiting for your reply when you are ready.

Love,
Francesca

Daniele exhaled slowly and glanced up at Gianni, whose blue eyes seemed unusually bright.

“That’s so sad,” he said, “but sort of nice at the same time.”

Gianni nodded. “It’s certainly made me think – about the events that brought me here, and what I want… from life.”

“Do you think your Nonna ever replied?” Daniele asked.

Gianni shook his head. “I don’t think so,” he replied. “I guess she never found the right moment until it was too late.”

“Do you think she would have?”

Gianni gestured the letter. “Take a closer look,” he said.

On closer inspection, Daniele noticed several places where the ink had smudged into little blots. “Are they… tear stains?” he whispered.

Gianni nodded. “I reckon my mum’s words must have hit her pretty hard. Knowing Nonna as I do now, I think she’d have got in touch… eventually.” He sighed. “After the accident, it must have hurt her so much to realise that she missed her chance to heal those old wounds.”

There was a pause, during which Daniele only looked at the young man, lost for words, but then Gianni smiled.

“It’s so strange,” Gianni went on, “to think that the very same year that my parents’ accident brought me here to stay, I might have ended up coming to Ravello anyway.”

“Like it was meant to be?” Daniele suggested.

Gianni shrugged. “If we’d just come here for a holiday, I’d never have had the chance to be with Angelo. Who knows if we’d even have met? Either way, I’d just have gone back to my safe little life in London in the end.” He smiled again. “It’s funny, the tricks that life plays on you.”

* * *

After a while, Daniele left Gianni to his diaries and wandered thoughtfully to the railings, staring out over the Valle del Dragone amid the scraping of the cicadas in the umbrella pines. Across the valley, the terraced slopes and rocky peaks of Scala shimmered in the heat of the afternoon.

Gianni’s tale of fractured families had made him think of Sami again. After his parents had died, at least Gianni had had Marina and Vittorio to protect him. Sami, it seemed, had nobody. The little boy was all alone, in that grimy old house in Sambuco.

Daniele’s options for adult help for Sami, be that his own parents, Gianni and Angelo or even Giacomo’s mother Elena, all seemed to lead to the same outcome: Valentina Forza and her Carabinieri sweeping in to pick up the boy, terrifying him and sending him off into some dreadful system where his aunt and uncle would never find him.

Daniele had even wondered if such a thing might be better, in the end, than leaving him on his own in Ettore’s house: but still he had fought against the idea, remembering Sami’s frightened brown eyes and the feeling of his skinny little arms hugging him gratefully about the waist.

What Daniele needed was a bit of neutral advice from someone who wouldn’t immediately leap to inform the authorities. And, with that thought, a light seemed to flick on in his brain.

Daniele turned away from the railings and moved across the square towards the cathedral. He turned into Via Roma, dodging groups of visitors as he went, and followed the twists and turns of the narrow little alley until he reached Salvatore’s store.

“Buongiorno, Daniele,” Salvatore said as he crossed the threshold. “Can I help you?”

“Buongiorno, signore,” Daniele replied dutifully. “Is Toto home?”

Salvatore nodded. “I think so. He’s been spending a lot of time in the apartment, lately. Go on up.”

Daniele thanked him, then stepped out into the street and approached the neighbouring door that led up to the apartment. It wasn’t locked. He let himself inside and clattered up the ceramic-tiled stairs. Shedding his shoes on the first floor landing, he glanced along the quiet upstairs corridor.

“Hello?” he called.

“Dani?” came an answering call from down the hall.

Daniele followed the voice until found himself in Toto’s bedroom, which had a single large window that overlooked the street. Toto had closed the wooden shutters against the heat of the afternoon, and a pleasant breath of air was flowing in through the open slats. The older boy was perched on the side of his bed, where he had been reading a book in English. He put it aside at once and gestured for Daniele to sit down next to him.

“What’s up, Dani?” he asked with a morose smile. “I’m honoured by this unexpected visit.”

“Can I talk to you about something?” Daniele asked.

* * *

The next morning, Daniele rode to Sambuco on the back of Toto’s Vespa scooter. He clutched the older boy’s waist tightly as they bumped down the valley road. For a while, it was just like old times: Daniele was reminded of those precious few weeks of the previous summer, after he had first met Toto and Michele, when they had been on so many fun days out and adventures together.

Under Daniele’s direction, Toto pulled up beside the log pile. Daniele slid off the bike first and handed the older boy back his spare helmet. While Toto stashed both helmets inside the seat compartment, Daniele waited, dusting himself down. Amid the distant scraping of the cicadas, a group of swifts flew overhead, screeching shrilly. Toto glanced skywards for a moment, his hand moving automatically to the pendant that still hung around his neck.

“You still haven’t spoken to Michele?” Daniele asked.

“Not yet,” Toto replied.

“But… it’s been nearly two weeks!” Daniele protested. “Claudia knows why you did what you did… so Isabella must have told him all about it by now. Maybe he gets it, and he’s waiting for you to call.”

Toto sighed. “I’ve come close to picking up the phone, but… what exactly would I say to him?”

Daniele smiled innocently. “I love you and I’m sorry?”

Toto chuckled wearily. “Soon, maybe.”

The older boy joined Daniele at the crash barrier, peering down at the broken concrete steps that led down into the valley.

“I never thought I’d be seeing this place again,” he murmured. “What on Earth possessed you to come back here, Dani?”

Daniele shrugged. “I was upset,” he said. “I came here to be alone, but first I found Marco, and then we found Sami.”

Toto frowned curiously. “What happened to upset you so much, Dani? It must have been pretty bad for this place to seem appealing.”

Daniele cast his eyes downwards. “Giacomo and Laura,” he mumbled.

“Ohh, I see…” Toto replied gently. “Say no more.” He paused. “So, you and Marco have been taking it in turns to visit?”

Daniele nodded. “I wasn’t sure whether Marco would really help, but he’s done loads. He even washed Sami’s clothes.”

“That was nice of him,” Toto mused. “Who’d have thought it?”

“Should we go on down?” Daniele asked.

Toto nodded. “Lead the way.”

They set off down the scruffy staircase together, trainers kicking through tufts of dry grass, sending chips of broken concrete skittering. Lizards darted after them, startled out of their basking by the unexpected intruders.

“Do you ever think about everything that happened with Ettore?” Daniele asked.

Toto grunted. “Michele and I talked about it a few times,” he replied. “He was never really comfortable with the whole vigilante thing, but he understood why Enzo and I had to do it.” He glanced down at Daniele. “You were the one who came the closest to real trouble, Dani.”

“I was okay,” Daniele said quietly. “I had my friends to back me up.” He rubbed his eyes. “I miss them.”

“Giacomo will come back to you, you know,” Toto replied. “If nothing else, Laura will be gone by the end of the summer.”

Yes, but what if it’s too late by then?

Daniele shrugged. “What about Emilia?”

Toto smiled slightly. “When it comes to girls, you’re talking to the wrong guy.” He punched Daniele gently on the arm. “Heartbreaker.”

“It’s not funny,” Daniele protested, rubbing his arm reproachfully.

Toto laughed. “Ah, c’mon… it is a little.”

Leaving the concrete steps behind them, they descended through the dappled shade of the grape vines, treading quietly along the dry, dusty earth of the path. As they rounded the final corner, arriving at the last little flight of steps that led down into the tatty old yard, they heard voices. Daniele placed a finger over his lips to silence the older boy as they stepped carefully down into the semi-derelict space.

Marco and Sami were sitting facing each other in the shade of the grape vines. Marco was back on his upturned bucket, and Sami was perched on the underside of an old bathroom washbasin. Marco was wearing the same faded old olive-green check shirt that Sami had been wearing just a few days ago.

“La mano,” Marco said to the little boy, pointing at his own hand.

“La mano,” Sami repeated, in childish but recognisable Italian.

“Now, how do you carry the glass?” Marco asked.

“Porto il bicchiere a mano,” Sami piped up.

“That’s perfect.” Marco replied happily. “High five!”

He raised a hand. Bouncing off his improvised seat, Sami reached up and smacked it proudly.

Daniele looked on in astonishment. It was so long since he had seen Marco smile that he had almost forgotten it was possible. At least, now, he knew how the younger boy had been able to speak a few words of Italian when he had visited last week. He wondered how much time Marco had spent here, quietly teaching Sami the language.

Toto nudged Daniele in the shoulder and gestured at the others, waiting for his cue. Daniele was spurred into action.

He cleared his throat. “Ciao,” he called.

Marco looked up at once, his cool grey eyes registering surprise and then, when he caught sight of Toto, suspicion. Sami, meanwhile, sprang up and ran across the yard to hug Daniele.

“Ciao, Daniele,” the little boy piped up.

“Oh, boy,” Toto remarked wryly, watching Daniele embracing the younger boy. “This looks familiar.”

“What do you mean?” Daniele asked.

“That was you and me once, Dani,” Toto chuckled.

Daniele turned back up to Sami. “Do you remember Toto?” he asked, gesturing at the older boy.

It wasn’t clear whether the younger boy had understood, but he raised a small hand to wave to Toto. It seemed, at least, that the new arrival hadn’t frightened him.

“Bonjour, Sami,” Toto said gently in French, kneeling so he could speak to the younger boy at his own level.

“Bonjour,” Sami replied.

“Voulez-vous parler avec moi?” Toto asked.

Sami nodded, and Toto led him back over to the bucket and washbasin so they could chat. Marco, who had got uncertainly to his feet while he waited, moved over to talk to Daniele.

“What’s going on?” he demanded quietly.

“This is Toto, he…”

“I know who he is,” Marco pressed. “What’s he doing here?”

“You said yourself that we should tell someone,” Daniele replied. “Toto was there when we pulled Sami and his family out of the water. He’s great at languages.”

“You trust him?” Marco asked.

Daniele nodded. “With my life. He’s saved it twice already.”

Marco raised an eyebrow. “Do you need a lot of saving?” he asked.

“You were there the second time,” Daniele replied shortly. “I don’t remember you rushing to help.”

Marco scowled. “All right,” he muttered. “Make me the bad guy if you want.”

Daniele sighed and shook his head. “No,” he conceded. “What you’ve been doing for Sami is really great.”

At this remark, Marco looked vaguely uncomfortable. He turned and walked away a few paces, hands in his pockets, and kicked dully at some loose rubble on the ground.

“Have you come to take it away from me?” he asked over his shoulder.

Daniele sidled up to him. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“Sami talks about you all the time,” Marco replied, keeping his eyes fixed determinedly forwards. “No matter how much I do for him, I can never beat saving his life. And now you come marching in with a new hero to save him again. Where does that leave me?”

Daniele frowned. “Toto just wants to help. It’s not a competition.”

Marco sighed. “I know,” he muttered. “Sami’s the one who really matters.”

“I couldn’t think of an adult I could talk to who wouldn’t immediately have Sami taken away,” Daniele said, “so I talked to Toto.”

Marco nodded. “Makes sense.”

“I can’t believe you’ve been teaching him Italian,” Daniele went on. “Exactly how long have you spent here?”

Marco shrugged. “Few hours each time I visited. It’s not like I have much else to do.” He gave Daniele a sideways look. “You’ve done your bit for Sami, too,” he added reluctantly.

They seemed to be dangerously close to reaching an understanding, and Daniele backed away from it slightly. He sensed that the other boy wasn’t entirely ready for it, either.

“I wonder what Giaco would make of it, if he saw us together?” Daniele said, hoping to change the subject.

“Does he care?” Marco muttered.

Daniele glanced uncomfortably at the other boy. Giacomo had made it clear that he still cared about him, but when was the last time he had willingly mentioned his old friend?

“Sami seems to really like you,” Daniele offered, for the sake of continuing the conversation.

“Yeah,” Marco replied. “Whatever.”

“It was good to see you smile.”

“Dio!” Marco flared up, “Would you stop it?”

“Sorry,” Daniele said in surprise, shoving his hands into his pockets a little defensively. After a moment, he realised he was mirroring the other boy’s posture almost exactly, and he had to fight a sudden urge to laugh madly.

Some aspect of the feeling must have read on his face, because Marco gave him a suspicious glare.

“What’s so funny?” he demanded.

“Nothing,” Daniele replied, but it only made the urge to giggle even worse. He turned away, trying desperately to get himself back under some sort of control.

Giacomo would see the funny side of it.

After a few minutes, Toto came back over to join them, leaving Sami to fiddle with a gnarly old stick he had found among the grape vines.

“Well, that was interesting,” he murmured.

“What did he say, Toto?” Daniele asked.

“After we rescued Sami along with his aunt and uncle, they travelled inland and ended up here. This was the first habitable empty property they found. I don’t think they were intending to stick around for long.”

“So, what went wrong?”

“His aunt and uncle disappeared a day or two after they arrived. According to Sami, they went out in search of food and never came back.”

“Do you think they got caught?” Marco asked.

Toto gave the smaller boy a thoughtful glance. “Possibly.” He paused. “Sami mentioned you a lot, Marco. I think he understands how much you’ve been doing for him.”

“Thanks,” Marco muttered, dropping his gaze awkwardly and returning to kicking at the broken concrete.

“See?” Daniele whispered to Marco. “It’s not just me.”

This earned Daniele the briefest of glares from the other boy.

“What should we do, Toto?” Daniele asked.

Toto offered him a slightly shamefaced smile. “I’m not sure yet. I think I’ll talk to Claudia about it. Perhaps we’ll ask around – maybe we can find out what happened to his aunt and uncle.”

“Won’t that be kinda obvious?” Daniele asked dubiously.

Toto bowed deferentially. “We’ll be the very spirit of discretion,” he assured him.

Marco glanced up at him for a moment, an eyebrow raised once again. “Say what?”

“What about food?” Daniele asked. “Marco and I have been bringing what we can.”

Toto nodded. “You two have done way too much already. Claudia and I can take it from here.”

“Thanks, Toto,” Daniele said, moving in for a quick hug. Marco watched uncomfortably from the sidelines as they embraced.

“I’m going to head back to town and track Claudia down,” Toto said. “Do you want a ride back, Dani?”

Daniele cast a brief sideways glance at the mousy-haired boy next to him. “No, I’m fine, thanks,” he replied.

Toto shrugged. “All right. See you later.”

Toto exchanged a goodbye wave with Sami and then set off back up the steps. Soon, Daniele and Marco were left alone.

“So, what happens now?” Daniele asked Marco.

The smaller boy shrugged. “I’ll keep coming as long as Sami’s here.”

“Me too,” Daniele said. He hesitated. “Do you want to do it together?”

Marco shrugged. “Whatever,” he replied.

“I mean, I could…” Daniele tailed off.

“I don’t mind what you do,” Marco said. “If I’m here when you come, then fine.”

“I just thought maybe we could both use a friend.”

Daniele reached for his shoulder, but the other boy batted his hand away.

“Jesus, Daniele,” he snapped. “Stop being nice to me!”

“Sorry,” Daniele said again, and this time there was no urge to laugh.

“I just want to be left alone,” Marco said furiously. “That’s why I came here in the first place. I was fine hanging out with Sami, but now there are all these other people involved. Can’t I have one thing that’s just mine?”

Daniele took a step backward. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

“Yeah, sure,” Marco said, calming down. “Okay.” He already seemed a bit ashamed of his outburst.

“See you around, Marco,” Daniele said.

“Yeah,” Marco mumbled. “Ciao, Daniele.”

He turned away, heading back towards the far corner of the yard where the younger boy was waiting. Daniele hesitated for a moment, but then turned and set off back up into the dappled shade of the grape vines.