Lanterns in the Dark - 8. Chapter 8

On Monday evening, word got round that Toto was due to be discharged from hospital the next day. When the question arose of who would collect him, Daniele’s father volunteered at once.

“Toto’s done a lot for Daniele,” Paolo explained to Salvatore on the telephone. “It’d be my pleasure to bring him home.”

At just before eleven o’clock the next morning, Daniele joined the small crowd of well-wishers that had turned out to wait for Toto in the square. They stood beside the ancient stone gatehouse of the Villa Rufolo, against a colourful backdrop of creepers and geraniums, waiting for Paolo’s taxi to swing through the tunnel that led in from the main Naples road. The sun was already beating fiercely down, lighting up the bright whitewashed flanks of the cathedral in a dazzling glow. A few pigeons lurked at the top of the slender, ornate bell tower, sheltering from glare in the shade of the belfry.

Marta and Salvatore led the throng, flanked by Gianni and Claudia. Daniele hadn’t been sure whether to expect Michele, but he was there, too; he had dressed up in one of his nicest shirts, but he lurked at the back of the group, seemingly uncertain of his place. Isabella stood beside him, holding his hand.

The square was already busy with visitors, who were browsing the shops, sipping coffees at the bars or simply taking in the scenery. A few of them gave the small group curious glances as they passed, but then they wandered on, their attention already diverted by other things.

Daniele glanced around the group, wondering how everybody was feeling. Overall, the mood seemed to be one of cheerful expectancy tinged with faint excitement. Only Michele seemed ill-at-ease, and Daniele found himself drawn to him.

“Ciao, Michele,” Daniele said.

Michele’s soft brown eyes, which had been staring anxiously into space, cleared a little and focused on Daniele.

“Ciao, Dani,” he replied. Next to him, Isabella grinned and tipped Daniele a little wave.

“Are you okay?” Daniele asked.

“I don’t know. I guess…” Michele scratched his head with a frown. “I just don’t know what I’m supposed to say or, you know, even what to feel.”

“He loves you,” Daniele assured him.

Michele rubbed his eyes. “Yeah, well… he has a funny way of showing it.”

Daniele stepped forward and put his arms around the older boy’s chest. Touched, Michele hugged him back.

“You’re not like any other thirteen-year-old I’ve met, Dani,” he murmured. “Forget what I said before about avoiding love. You deserve to find someone special one day.”

Daniele smiled up at him. “I’m taking a break from dating at the moment.”

Michele stared at him in disbelief. “You mean… you’ve started already?”

Isabella laughed softly. “Look out, boys and girls of Ravello… here comes the blue-eyed angel. Guard your hearts.”

Daniele narrowed his eyes at her. “You’ve been spending way too much time with Claudia.”

Isabella sighed. “I know, she’s a terrible influence.”

“I can hear you, you know, Bella,” Claudia remarked from up front. Isabella smirked, and Daniele heard Gianni chuckle quietly to himself.

Somewhere nearby, a cracked-sounding church bell began to ring the hour. The group turned their attention back to the tunnel with renewed focus as, right on cue, Paolo’s taxi swung in from the main road and coasted to a halt at the corner of the square.

The driver’s door opened, and Paolo levered himself out of the car, hurrying round the bonnet to open the passenger door. A moment later, Toto slid out of the passenger seat, standing on his own two feet in the bright sunlight, looking down at the familiar paving stones of the square with obvious relief.

Toto tried to offer Paolo some money, but he waved it away. Toto settled for shaking his hand instead. Pausing only to tip Daniele a quick wave, Paolo clambered back into the taxi, turned it round and guided it back out through the tunnel.

Daniele joined the front row of the throng as Toto looked back at them all, smiling uncertainly. He took a few steps forward and was instantly enveloped. Only Michele and Isabella hung back from the group hug.

“We’ve missed you,” Daniele heard Claudia say.

“How are you, Toto?” came Salvatore’s voice.

“Don’t do it again,” Daniele added.

“Okay… need to breathe, now,” Toto gasped. The group backed off again, leaving Toto looking slightly ruffled, but happy. “I’m fine,” he said. “My chest and throat still feel a bit rough, but the doctors say it’ll pass.”

“I felt so bad about the accident,” Daniele blurted out. “I’m really sorry you got hurt.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Dani,” Toto assured him. “I hope you realise that.”

Daniele nodded. “That’s what the others all told me.”

Toto glanced about the group. “Is Michele…?” he began.

Wordlessly, the group parted, revealing their last two members. Michele released Isabella’s hand and stepped forward.

Toto gave the other boy a slightly shamefaced look. “Ciao, Michele,” he said. “How’ve you been?”

For a second, Michele’s mouth trembled with some deep, suppressed emotion, and then he slapped Toto hard across the face.

There were sharp intakes of breath from all around the group. Toto’s hand flew to his cheek where Michele had hit him, his intense brown eyes registering naked shock, and they all watched as Michele stormed off across the square to stare moodily out over the view towards Scala.

Isabella closed her gaping jaw. “I’ll… go and talk to him,” she said hurriedly, then set off in pursuit of the other boy.

“Wha… what did I do?” Toto asked.

Claudia grunted with frustration. “Oh, you know what you did!” She grasped Toto firmly by the shoulders, and for a moment Daniele thought she might actually shake him. “Now, go and talk to him, Toto. This has gone on for long enough.”

“But…”

Claudia folded her arms, her dark eyes glaring at him furiously. “Listen to me, Toto. You both still love each other, and it’s time you both admitted it. I’m leaving in a couple of weeks. I’d like to spend those two weeks with my friends. All of them.”

Toto took a step backwards. “All right, all right…” he said reluctantly. “Give me a few minutes, would you?”

The rest of the group drew closer together as Toto set off across the square like a man condemned. Isabella drew back from Michele as Toto approached, returning slowly across the square to rejoin the others.

“What did you say to him, Claudia?” Isabella asked, divining the likely source of the intervention at a stroke.

“Just the truth,” Claudia replied. “Let’s hope it was enough.”

Over by the railings, in the shadow of the umbrella pines, the two boys seemed to be arguing furiously, but then, gradually, their gestures began to drop in intensity and the fight seemed to go out of them. After a few more seconds, they were holding hands.

Daniele looked up at Claudia and smiled. She gave him a satisfied nod.

“About time, too.”

* * *

When Toto and Michele had returned to them, the group adjourned to one of the bars to celebrate Toto’s safe return. They gathered around the same two tables, but this time there was no empty chair.

The table naturally divided itself into teens and adults. Daniele found himself sitting in the middle, facing Toto and his father. Salvatore, who was never usually a demonstrative man, placed his arm gratefully around his son’s shoulders for a moment. Toto leaned into it, accepting his father’s support, and Daniele had a strong sense of a bond being reforged.

“It’s a long time since I’ve made my own prayers,” Salvatore said, “but I’m thanking God today.”

“Come on, Papà,” Toto said. “I’m fine. I was never in any danger, really.”

Salvatore raised an eyebrow. “Oh, forgive me,” he remarked. “I’m sure running into a burning building was just like a walk in the park.”

“Well… maybe a very hot park,” Toto conceded, causing some chuckles around the table.

Daniele, meanwhile, hadn’t forgotten the other victim of the fire. While there was nothing he could do to help the little African boy anymore, he still wanted to know what had become of him.

“Do you know what happened to Sami, Toto?” he asked.

Toto nodded slowly. “Sami came to a little after I did,” he told him. “He’d taken more smoke than I had, but the doctors said he was going to be fine.”

“How was he?”

“He was pretty scared,” Toto went on. “I hung out with him as much as I could, tried to make him feel a little better, but…” he shrugged. “He was going to be taken to a reception centre, I’m afraid, Dani. I know that’s not where you wanted him to end up, but… what else could they really do?”

Marta nodded sympathetically. “A child as young as seven can’t be left to survive on their own, Daniele. You know that really, don’t you?”

Daniele nodded miserably. “Yes, signora. I know that. It just seems so unfair, after they came all this way…”

“I know how you feel, Dani,” Gianni said. “I never met him, but from everything I’ve heard, Sami sounds like a sweet boy. It’s cruel to think of him lost in the system like that, with nobody to care for him. Having come close to that myself for a little while…” his eyes took on a slightly faraway look, “well, let’s just say I wish there had been a better way.”

Claudia gave him a thoughtful glance. “What if there is a better way?” she mused.

Daniele glanced up at her hopefully. “What do you mean?”

She shook her head. “I’m not sure, Dani. Let me think about it.”

Daniele was desperate to know more, but Claudia turned determinedly back to her other friends. For the moment, it seemed she wasn’t prepared to be drawn any further. Instead, Daniele tried to pick up the threads of the conversation at the teens’ end of the table.

“What do you mean, my punishment?” Toto was saying dubiously.

Isabella smiled pertly back at him. “Oh, nothing major. I was thinking, maybe, a naked walk of shame. What do you think, Michele?”

“Nobody wants to see that,” Michele murmured, fiddling with his paper napkin. To Daniele, he still seemed a little distracted and subdued.

Toto gave him a sideways glance. “Oh, I dunno,” he said, “I think there’d be a few takers.”

Automatically, Daniele glanced up at Claudia, who glared at him and placed a finger over his lips.

Michele, meanwhile, had finally looked up at Toto. For a moment, his doubtful eyes locked with Toto’s hopeful ones, but then he shook his head, laughing wearily.

“You’re so lame, Toto,” he said.

“Yeah, I know,” Toto replied. “But isn’t that why you love me?” He leaned across the table. “Start selling tickets, Bella,” he whispered. “We’ll make a fortune.”

* * *

The next day began with another stubbornly sunny and cloudless morning. The swifts flew over the vegetable garden near the Villa Cimbrone, screeching shrilly.

Daniele cocked his head as the distant church bells chimed half past ten. He was crouched low behind a row of tall aubergine plants. The boy crouched next to him had a hand clasped to his mouth as he tried desperately not to giggle. A few rows down, they could see Giovanni, the gardener, pacing back and forth with a hosepipe as he watered the neatly ordered rows of tomatoes.

“Okay – go, Dani!” Giacomo whispered, shoving him playfully on the shoulder.

Daniele rose to his feet and ran at a stoop along the top row of the tomato plants, holding tightly onto the round red object clutched in his left hand. He wasn’t running low enough to be truly hidden from view. Nonetheless, he had almost made it to the vine-draped steps at the far side of the garden by the time a shout rang out across the garden.

“Hey, you! Stop right there.”

Daniele stopped at the edge of the staircase and turned to face the gardener, putting on his best, ‘oh, busted’ face.

Giovanni, a lean man in his mid-forties with close-cropped, dark hair, shut the valve on the spray attachment he had been using and strode back along the row of tomato plants with the hosepipe still dangling from one hand. He climbed the intervening steps, a stern look on his usually friendly face.

“Daniele Ferrero!” he said fiercely. “I would have expected better from you.”

Daniele did his best to hoist an innocent look onto his face. “What do mean, signore?” he asked.

“Are you really trying to tell me you haven’t just been stealing my tomatoes?” the gardener asked. He gestured at Daniele’s closed left hand. “I saw what you’re holding.”

“What, this?” Daniele asked. He raised his hand and opened it to reveal a red rubber ball. Giovanni stared at it, his mouth working silently for a moment.

There was a rustle as Giacomo popped up from behind the aubergine plants. “Ciao, signor Russo,” he called, beaming winsomely.

The gardener whipped around to face him at once. “Giacomo Agnello!” he cried in exasperation. “I should have known. You put him up to this, didn’t you?”

Giacomo giggled and jogged back along the row of aubergine plants to join Daniele on the stairs.

“Yes, signore,” Giacomo replied cheerfully, taking responsibility for the prank without a moment’s hesitation. “Dani’s far too much of a good boy to try something like this on his own.”

The gardener glared at them both, but Daniele thought he could see a twinkle of good humour in his eyes as well.

“Well, as far as I’m concerned,” Giovanni said, “you’re both responsible.” And without any further warning, he twisted the valve on his hosepipe, and the two boys found themselves being drenched with jets of ice cold water.

Daniele and Giacomo ran, shrieking, back up the steps to the boundary wall. They scrambled over it, leaving the gardener chuckling to himself in the shade of the vines.

The two boys touched down on the dusty crazy paving of the public street, dripping from the arms and knees, their clothing peppered with heavy, damp patches. Daniele’s bright rainbow tie dye t-shirt, which he had been given for his birthday, hid the worst of it, leaving just a few dark patches on his beige shorts. Giacomo’s dark blue shirt, however, was covered in great wet marks that looked almost black.

Now Daniele couldn’t resist giggling. “You look amazing, Giaco,” he said.

Giacomo smirked. “And you look like you’ve wet yourself,” he replied.

He pointed at Daniele’s shorts, where one of the dark, wet patches was spreading neatly between his legs. Now they both fell about laughing.

“Let’s… get… out of… here,” Daniele managed between gasps of air.

They flew along the street in the direction of the Villa Cimbrone.

“I’ve missed this, Dani,” Giacomo panted as they ran.

“Me too,” Daniele said.

They jogged down a sweeping flight of steps next to the vegetable garden and approached the entrance to the villa, running their hands through the creepers that covered the high retaining wall as they went. The sun beat down mercilessly upon the little garden outside the entrance; flitting through it as quickly as they could, they stepped through the great wooden doors into the welcome shade of the courtyard. Pausing for breath, they approached the ticket kiosk in companionable silence.

“Buongiorno, Daniele,” Viola said, with a puzzled smile at their bedraggled state. “What on Earth happened to the two of you?”

“Giacomo enraged a gardener,” Daniele smiled back, while Giacomo offered her an embarrassed grin.

Viola laughed. “Maybe I shouldn’t have asked. I’ll let you in at two for the price of one, since your last visit was so short.” She glanced curiously around the courtyard. “Where’s your other friend – the one with the mousy hair?”

Daniele was pulled up short. “Oh, ah… he’s not coming today.”

Giacomo gave him a curious glance as they moved on into the gardens, stepping out into the dappled shade of the main central avenue, passing beneath long green wisteria pods and bunches of plump green grapes ripening in the sun.

“Your friend with the mousy hair?” Giacomo asked keenly. “I thought you said the two of you hadn’t been hanging out?”

Daniele glanced back at him. “I don’t know what we’re doing, exactly,” he replied, honestly enough. “I just know we both, kinda… need someone.”

Giacomo frowned slightly. “Need someone?”

Daniele shrugged. “You know… Marco’s been on his for a while, and now… so am I. You’re off with Laura most of the time, and Emilia’s not exactly talking to me, is she?”

Giacomo scratched his head thoughtfully. “Should I be jealous?” he asked lightly.

Daniele smiled slightly. Well, what goes around…

“Jealous?” he replied. “You?”

They paused at the entrance to a long, narrow lawn that ran next to the main avenue. Giacomo gave him an awkward sort of smile, and suddenly Daniele couldn’t tell whether the other boy was joking or not. “It’s just, when I think of my best friend going around with another boy it makes me…” He tailed off.

“Makes you what?” Daniele prompted curiously.

Giacomo pounced on him, and Daniele found himself pulled into a tight and unexpected embrace.

“It just makes me want to snatch you back again,” Giacomo whispered. Daniele flushed at once, acutely aware of their closeness, of the other boy’s arms wrapped around his back and the subtle, sweet scent of his carefully styled hair.

Daniele extracted himself from the other boy’s clutches, taking a step back in confusion. “Don’t mess with me like that, Giaco,” he said quietly. “It’s not fair.”

“I’m not,” Giacomo murmured. “At least… I don’t think I am.”

Daniele stared searchingly into his dark eyes, trying to make out what was going on behind them, but the other boy gave nothing away.

“I don’t understand,” he protested.

Giacomo shoved his hands into his pockets. “I just want you back, that’s all.”

“As what?” Daniele asked desperately.

Giacomo shifted uncomfortably on his feet. “Isn’t best friend good enough?” he asked.

What’s he saying…?

Daniele frowned. “What about Laura?”

The other boy glanced down at the dusty ground for a moment. “She’ll be going home, soon,” he said evasively.

Daniele wasn’t prepared to be deflected so easily. “What happens after that, though?” he pressed. “Will you, like… write to each other?”

Giacomo shrugged. “Laura might want to, but… I dunno if I can really see it.” He paused, scuffing at the gravel path with one foot. “Anyway, she’d be better off moving on with someone who doesn’t live half the country away.”

For a moment, there was quiet between them. Daniele wrestled with a world of silent questions as he tried to make sense of everything his friend had just said. The scraping of the cicadas in the trees around them seemed to swell until it was almost deafening.

He just misses me as a friend, right? There’s no reason to read anything more into this.

“So, what now?” he asked quietly.

The other boy smiled slowly. “Let’s not waste the time we have left.” Suddenly, he was holding the red rubber ball in his hand; Daniele stared at it, wondering when exactly his friend had managed to pick his pocket. “Want to play catch?”

“Okay.”

Perhaps all the questions could wait. Giacomo led the way out onto the sun-drenched lawn, and Daniele followed.

* * *

Daniele and Giacomo headed back towards town as the sun approached its ferocious zenith. An hour of catch on the lawn and hide-and-seek among the lower terraces had quietened Daniele’s mind for a while, but he had found himself straying dangerously close to a state of hope.

Stop it, he told himself. That’s not how things are with you and Giaco, and you know it.

They took a quiet back route down towards the square, and Daniele was reminded of the cool spring night all those months ago when he had followed Giacomo from a distance, watching anxiously as he had carried out some secret mission.

Back then, Giacomo had just been a vague crush of his; he had never really believed they would even speak to one another. Against the odds, they had become best friends, but now something else had entered the equation as well: some kind of deeper need, which seemed… mutual.

Is this love?

It was all too much for a confused thirteen-year-old to understand.

* * *

“It’s getting pretty hot,” Giacomo said as they swept round a corner, passing the little row of gift shops that led back to the square. “Do you want to come back to my place for a bit, Dani?”

Daniele’s eyes flicked towards him. “I’d love to,” he replied.

“It’s just…” Giacomo began as the square opened out around them, but then he stopped, and his face fell with hurriedly concealed disappointment. “Ah, Jesus…”

Emilia and Laura were coming the other way, chatting cheerfully. At the sight of the two of them, Daniele shrank back behind Giacomo, wishing he could vanish into the ground.

Laura glanced up and beamed as she saw Giacomo. She came running up to them, and Emilia was forced to tag along, looking almost as uncomfortable as Daniele felt. She was back in her old white blouse and jeans and looked much more her usual self than she had the last time Daniele had seen her.

“Ciao, Daniele,” she said reluctantly.

“Ciao, Emilia,” Daniele mumbled.

“Hi, Giaco,” Laura smiled, taking the other boy’s hand. Daniele watched dejectedly as they exchanged a kiss.

“Ah… ciao, Laura,” Giacomo said, with an attempt at his usual smile. “We were just heading back to mine. Do… you guys want to come along?”

“Of course we will,” Laura said warmly, “won’t we, Emilia?”

Emilia shrugged awkwardly. “Sure,” she replied.

Daniele glanced desperately around the square, looking for any excuse to escape. To his relief, he caught sight of a pair of familiar grey eyes watching him from the far side of the space. Marco was leaning against the sturdy trunk of one of the umbrella pines, observing the exchange with intense interest.

“Actually, you go ahead,” he said. “I’ve just seen someone I need to talk to.”

“Okay, Dani,” Giacomo replied reluctantly. “See you in a few days, I guess.”

Daniele nodded. “Ciao, guys.”

The three of them set off towards the corner of Via Roma. Emilia cast Daniele a slightly reproachful look as they left, perhaps in protest at being left as a third wheel, despite everything that had happened between them.

Daniele backed away miserably for a moment, then turned and walked across the quietly bustling square, determinedly not looking back over his shoulder. He came to rest in the shade of the umbrella pines, eye-to-eye with the smaller boy, who was looking back at him in some surprise.

“Can I hang out with you this afternoon, Marco?” Daniele asked, blinking back a single tear.

Marco glanced across the square, where Giacomo and the others were just vanishing from view up the avenue of oleanders.

“That looked pretty rough,” he admitted thoughtfully.

“It’s just like I said,” Daniele said. “It’s really hard to be around them.”

Marco stared at him levelly. “I wasn’t sure whether to believe you about Giaco at first, but now I’ve seen it for myself…” He shook his head slowly and, for once, Daniele could see no trace of hostility in his cool grey eyes.

Daniele stuck out a hand, repeating the hopeful gesture he had made a few days previously. “Friends…?” he asked. “Please?”

For a moment, Marco looked down at Daniele’s outstretched hand, his expression troubled.

“I used to hate you, you know, Dani…” he said softly, “but, now, I dunno… I think, maybe, you’re okay after all.”

“Dani…?” Daniele mouthed to himself, unnoticed by the other boy’s downcast eyes.

Seeming, to reach a decision at last, Marco reached out. He took Daniele’s hand softly in his own, and gave it the briefest of shakes that honour would allow.

“Friends.”

* * *

So, what happens next?

For the first time, Daniele and Marco stood together in total acceptance of each other, but for a moment neither boy knew what to say.

How DO you go from enemies to friends? Where do you begin?

Perhaps, Daniele thought, they could mark the occasion with a meal. He pulled his wallet out of his pocket.

“Do you want to get some lunch, or something? My treat.”

Marco stared down at the fabric wallet, which had been carefully monogrammed with the initials D.F.

He shook his head. “Don’t,” he said.

Daniele hesitated. “Don’t what?” he asked.

“Don’t start spending money on me,” Marco insisted. “It’ll spoil everything.”

“You mean, because…”

“…because I’ll never be able to do the same for you,” Marco finished, his gaze dropping back to the ground in embarrassment.

Kicking himself inwardly for making such a basic mistake, Daniele stuffed the wallet back into the pocket of his shorts at once.

“Sorry, I didn’t think.”

Marco’s grey eyes found his own again. “It’s okay.”

“Can we make a deal?” Daniele asked. “Let me buy you lunch today. Call it a celebration if you want. You don’t owe me anything in return and, after that, I’ll never spend a single Eurocent on you if you don’t want me to.”

Marco contemplated him for a moment, but then he offered a barely perceptible nod, and his elfin features were touched, for the first time, by something that might almost have been a smile.

“Okay,” he conceded. “Thanks.”

“Come on,” Daniele said. “I know where we can get a great takeaway.”

He led the way out of the square via a narrow, tree-lined street at the lower corner, which passed beneath the great stone arch of a ruined palazzo. Marco fell into step beside him, looking him up and down for a moment.

“I like your t-shirt,” he said. “It’s brighter than usual.”

“Thanks,” Daniele replied cautiously.

“How’s the knee?” Marco asked, as his eyes fell on the scabs where Daniele’s graze had been. Daniele had removed the plaster as he had soaked in the bath that same night, letting the warm, bubbly water soothe his injury.

“Almost as good as new, thanks to you,” Daniele replied with a smile. “You should be a doctor or something.”

Marco shrugged. “No, Emilia’s the one who wants to do that,” he replied.

Daniele blinked. “She does…?” he paused, thinking back. Surely the subject must have come up before? “Why didn’t I know that?”

“Maybe you never asked,” Marco suggested.

Daniele was beginning to realise just how focused he must have been on Giacomo during all the time they had spent together, and he began to feel slightly ashamed of himself.

“Have I just been a lousy friend?” he asked.

“If so, you’re not the only one,” Marco replied neutrally.

They had reached the top of the road that led down into the valley. Daniele steered them up a narrow side street, arriving at a tiny little square partway down Via Roma. To one side stood an ancient church, its stone forecourt adorned with baskets of colourful geraniums. Opposite stood Da Rossi, Pietro and Anna’s restaurant, its two small outside tables already occupied by customers who were sipping on glasses of cool beer and mineral water.

Daniele led the other boy inside. Marco looked around the long, narrow chamber, eyes wide, as he admired the colourful feature walls beneath the vaulted ceiling, the cheerful lights and the black-and-white photos of classic movie stars that adorned the walls.

Pietro Rossi was taking an order at the back of the restaurant. A good-looking man in his early thirties, he was chatting cheerfully with his customers, his short dark hair neatly brushed and gelled. Pietro was a professional sort of man and, although Daniele had always got on well enough with him, he had never seemed to have the same mischievous streak as his younger siblings Angelo and Claudia.

His wife, Anna, was standing behind the bar. She was a beautiful young woman with long, glossy dark hair. Despite her warm and effusive manner, Daniele had long suspected that she was the real driving force behind the business, which the two of them had set up few years ago under the guidance of Pietro’s mother Marta.

True to form, Anna beamed as she caught sight of the new arrivals.

“Ciao, Daniele,” she cried enthusiastically. “Long time, no see. Who’s your friend?”

“Ciao, Anna,” Daniele replied. “This is Marco.”

“Buongiorno, signora,” Marco said politely, although he still seemed a little awed by the class and style of the place.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you in here before?” Anna asked.

Marco shook his head. “No, you wouldn’t have.”

Anna smiled. “Then I’m pleased to meet you. Are you looking for a takeaway today?”

Daniele nodded. “Yes, please.”

Anna passed them each a menu. “Let me know what you’d like. We’ll bring it right out.”

* * *

A few minutes later, the two boys returned to the square. They sat down at Daniele’s usual bench, each clutching a cardboard street food box full of freshly-cooked pasta.

Marco apparently had simple tastes, and had gone for a classic spaghetti alla carbonara. It steamed appetisingly, loaded with freshly cooked pancetta, dotted with flecks of perfectly cooked egg and melting parmesan cheese. Daniele’s own tagliatelle was a tasty combination of king prawns, garlic, chilli, parsley and fresh cherry tomatoes.

“Thanks for this,” Marco said, devouring the warm, savoury meal with enthusiasm.

“What would you normally have at home?”

Marco shrugged. “Bread and cheese, usually,” he said. “My parents work a lot, so I have to look after myself.”

Daniele nodded. “Mine, too, but they let me cook sometimes.”

Marco glanced up from his meal and gave Daniele a thoughtful look. “I see what you mean,” he said.

Daniele gave him a puzzled frown. “About what?”

“About how we have a lot in common.”

“Like Giaco,” Daniele murmured. He paused for a moment, wondering whether this was safe territory for a conversation so soon into their relationship; but, now that they were friends, he found himself full of questions. “When did you first know that you liked him?”

Marco was silent for a moment, and Daniele could sense that he was weighing up whether or not to respond.

“I don’t really know,” he replied at length, his eyes focused on his tray of food. “It sort of crept up on me. For a long time, we were just friends… but then I just found myself having these weird thoughts and feelings when I was around him. I didn’t really understand what it meant, until…”

But he left the last thought unfinished. Instead, he turned his cool grey eyes on Daniele. “I could tell that you liked him straight away.”

Daniele stared at him. “How could you tell, when I didn’t even know? Not really.”

“I saw you looking,” Marco replied. “And then, when you made friends, there was the way you sort of lit up around him.”

Daniele ate a few more mouthfuls of his lunch, reflecting with embarrassment on how obvious he must have been.

Even Mamma saw it…

“What about Giaco?” he asked.

Marco shrugged. “I dunno. I could never read him so well.”

Daniele nodded. “Me neither.” He gave the smaller boy a sideways glance. “Has there ever been… anyone else?”

He wasn’t sure why he wanted to know, but it suddenly seemed very important.

Marco frowned slightly. “Why?”

Daniele thought about it for a moment. “I guess I just want to know what’s… normal.”

Marco shrugged. “I dunno. Not yet? I don’t like to think about it.”

“Why not?” Daniele asked.

Marco gestured at his faded shirt, his narrow shoulders and his mousy hair.

“Who’s going to want me?” he asked.

Daniele stared at the smaller boy, feeling desperately sorry for him. Had Marco always felt this way about himself, or was it all Daniele’s own fault, somehow? Just how much damage had he done when he replaced the other boy in his friendship group?

“The right person won’t care about all that stuff,” he insisted.

“Maybe,” Marco said uncertainly, “but how’s the right person ever going to notice me in the first place?”

“I see you,” Daniele offered.

“Then give me one thing,” Marco said, “one reason for the right person to be interested.”

Daniele thought for a moment, trying to think of something he could say that would make the other boy feel better. “You… have a nice smile,” he ventured. “I haven’t seen it very often, but when you do… I’m not the only one who, sort of… lights up.”

Marco flushed slightly and turned back to the remains of his lunch.

“Thanks, Dani,” he mumbled.

There was silence between them for a moment. In the pine trees above them, the cicadas scraped on through their summer song.