The Summer of the Selfless - 12. Chapter 12

That night brought a rare thundery shower that passed slowly along the coast. As he admired the arcs of lightning that flashed over the sea and the mountains and drowned in the terrific rolls of thunder, Daniele felt small and insignificant before their raw power. For a while, it helped to put his problems into perspective, but he was still unhappy. The summer had seemed to promise so much… but now, his prospects felt empty and devoid of meaning.

The passing storm left a welcome freshness in the air the following morning. Daniele could feel it as soon as he threw open his bedroom windows, but he knew it wouldn’t last. Summer days in Ravello seldom stayed cool for long.

Over breakfast, when Patrizia asked Daniele whether he would help her run the art wagon that evening, he agreed at once, glad that he would have something to do. Although he and Marco had parted as friends the previous evening, they hadn’t felt ready to arrange to meet again. Not yet.

* * *

The day turned out as every bit as hot as promised. Even the few scattered clouds that trailed along after the night’s rain couldn’t suppress the heat; if anything, the humidity caused by the evaporating waters only made the day that much more oppressive.

They waited out the hottest part of the day, then walked up to the Toro together to fetch the art wagon from Gianni and Angelo’s courtyard. Daniele carried Patrizia’s latest batch of cakes in an airtight container, colourful fruity and chocolatey ones designed to lure in visitors who might be ready for a snack after a long day exploring the gardens and the town.

After a slow, zig-zagging descent past the fountain, they set up the stall in the usual corner of the cathedral square.

“Do help me talk to the customers, won’t you?” Patrizia said anxiously. “Gianni and I always knew there would be days like this when he had to work and I’d be doing the selling, but… art is so subjective. It’s hard to speak up for it on someone else’s behalf.”

Daniele glanced morosely up at her. “You’ll do fine, Mamma.”

Patrizia gave him an affectionate squeeze around the shoulders. “You’re so sweet,” she smiled. “How many fourteen-year-olds would be so supportive? What did we do to deserve you?”

Daniele shrugged miserably, feeling unworthy. “I’m not so special.”

She gave him a concerned frown. “Is everything all right, caro?” she asked. “You’ve been quiet ever since your fight with Giacomo, but today… you seem even more down than usual.”

“I’m okay,” Daniele mumbled, looking away. It was too hard to keep meeting her concerned blue eyes.

“You’re not, are you?” Patrizia murmured, but she left it at that for the moment.

They turned back to the square and tried to catch the eyes of the passers-by but, in the oppressive heat, business was slow, and Daniele found his heart wasn’t really in it. He allowed his mind to wander, gazing aimlessly around at the trees, the valley and the square with its rustic buildings and baskets of colourful summer flowers. Twice, Patrizia had to nudge him on the shoulder to drag him back to the present when potential customers actually did arrive. He helped as best he could, handing out cakes and handling the money with a smile that he didn’t really feel.

After two hours, they had sold a couple of pictures, a handful of postcards and about half of Patrizia’s cakes. She sighed.

“Well, it could have been worse,” she said. She glanced sadly at the uneaten sweet treats. “It’s a pity about the waste, though.”

“Sorry I didn’t help more,” Daniele said quietly.

Patrizia’s brow knotted again. “It’s not your fault, caro. Why would you think that?”

“I dunno…”

Daniele turned away and retreated to the railings. He draped himself over the handrail, staring vaguely down at the pergola he had fallen through not so many weeks ago. The way Giacomo had rushed to his aid…

Suddenly, hot tears sprang unexpectedly to his eyes. He moaned in dismay, trying desperately to wipe them away, but his mother had already noticed.

“Daniele!” she gasped, descending on him at once and turning him round to face her. “What’s wrong?”

Tearfully, Daniele shook his head. “I messed up everything,” he choked.

Her eyes full of concern and sorrow, she pulled him into a hug.

“It’s all right,” she murmured, running her hand gently up and down his back, neck and the soft hair at the back of his head as she had after so many skinned knees, stubbed toes and hurt feelings when he was a small child. Responding instinctively, he buried his face in her blouse and sobbed quietly into her shoulder.

“I’m sorry…” he mumbled.

“Whatever it is,” Patrizia replied, “you can talk to us. You know that, don’t you?”

When he had cried himself out, they broke apart. Patrizia helped him to wipe away his tears and then asked him to start taking down the art display. He began to pack away the piles of postcards, then frowned curiously as she pulled out her mobile phone.

“Who are you calling?” he asked.

“Your father,” she replied, placing the phone to her ear. “I’m going to ask him if he can finish work early and meet us here for a drink. Right now, our little family needs him more than his fares do.”

* * *

Paolo was with a fare in Maiori, but he assured them that he would join them as soon as he could.

Daniele and Patrizia passed the time by taking the art wagon on its winding journey back up to the courtyard in the Toro. As they arrived, Angelo appeared briefly at the door to thank them for their efforts. They pressed half of the leftover cakes into his surprised hands, then he waved them off as they made the much shorter journey back down to the square via the avenue of oleanders. By now, the sun was beginning to dip below the mountains on the far side of the valley, casting the last of its golden rays on the sprays of pink blooms that lined the path.

They took over a corner table outside one of the bars and watched the many lives unfolding in the square as the crowd swelled with the cooling of the evening. A few younger children began a game of football in the middle of the square, while a few elderly locals also began to appear; in their traditional jackets, flat caps and dark dresses, they were distinguishable at once from the tourists with their sun hats, handbags and cameras. A few cicadas still scraped away in the trees, buoyed up by the balmy heat despite the loss of the direct sunlight. Distant classical music trickled across the square, emanating, Daniele assumed, from a concert in the Villa Rufolo gardens.

Paolo joined them a few minutes later, appearing from the tunnel to the Naples road. He slid into the seat opposite Patrizia, looking concerned.

“What’s all this about?” he asked, glancing at each of them in turn, looking for answers.

“I think Daniele has a few things to tell us,” Patrizia said, placing an arm around her son’s shoulders.

“Can… we get the drinks first?” Daniele asked.

The few minutes it took the waiter to bring their order gave him a chance to marshal his thoughts. By the time the waiter returned with a small bowl of nibbles, a beer for his father, a sparkling water for his mother and a Sprite for Daniele himself, he was ready to begin.

He took a slurp of the cool, life-giving drink and swallowed it, letting it fizz down his throat, then he took a deep breath.

“I… didn’t just have a fight with Giaco,” he said. “We were together, and then… we split.”

Paolo blinked. “You were together? As in… a couple?” He exchanged a startled glance with Patrizia. “How didn’t we know about this?”

Daniele shrugged. “It was only for a couple of days,” he mumbled.

“Oh, Daniele…” Patrizia breathed sadly.

“So…” Paolo murmured, “all that time you were sharing a bed, you were…”

Daniele gave him a pained look. “Please, don’t…” he begged.

Paolo shook his head. “It doesn’t matter,” he said gently. “Tell us more.”

Daniele looked to his mother for help, lost for a moment.

“You told me you’d ‘messed up everything,’” Patrizia said. “What did you mean, caro?”

Daniele wiped a stray tear away from one eye. “I guess it goes back to the disco,” he mumbled.

Patrizia nodded. “You said things got… weird there, but you never really explained how.”

“Giaco asked me to slow dance with him!” Daniele burst out. “I was so freaked out that I ran away. Marco tried to help me, but…” He gave them a despairing look. “After that, we agreed we’d just be friends, but we couldn’t do it. Whatever we did, we just slid deeper into it, into… each other.” He glanced down at the table and reached for his glass again. “You know I’ve liked him for years.”

“And…” Paolo added gently, “none of us really thought he saw you that way.”

Daniele nodded. “Exactly.”

Paolo shook his head in astonishment. “No wonder you were thrown.” He paused. “So… what changed? Why did you split up? Did he…”

“I did it,” Daniele said miserably. “Me.”

“But why?” Patrizia murmured.

Daniele weighed his answer while he drank. There was no way he could tell them everything that had happened between them, but he could give them the gist of it.

“I talked to Marco. I had to tell him, you know? But… he got really upset, and said some things that made be worry Giaco wasn’t for real.” He wiped his eyes miserably. “I like Giaco so much! I couldn’t take it if it was all, you know… just one of his games.”

“Of course, tesoro,” Patrizia murmured.

“So, the next day, I split with him, but he looked so hurt… it must have been real.” He rubbed at his eyes again. “I haven’t spoken to him since.”

Paolo nodded. “You’ve been spending time with Marco instead.”

“Yeah…” Daniele admitted miserably, “and now I’ve broken his heart as well.”

Patrizia put a hand to her mouth. “You don’t mean…”

“It didn’t work out,” Daniele mumbled.

There was silence for a moment. Daniele took another downhearted slurp of his drink.

“Oh, my poor, sweet Daniele,” Patrizia murmured. “You must have felt so alone.”

“Marco and I are okay,” he replied, “but… I really miss Giaco.”

Patrizia gave him a gentle squeeze about the shoulders. “I know it must feel like the end of the world,” she said gently, “but it may not be too late. Why don’t you talk to him?”

Daniele gave his parents a pained look. “He thinks I’ve never really trusted him. How can I come back from that?”

Paolo frowned. “That must have hurt him, I’m sure,” he said, “but you were always such good friends… maybe you can explain how those doubts got into your head, make him understand somehow.” He spread his hands to show that he was speculating. “Who knows if you’ll be able to reach him, but… if he really cares for you as much as you say… surely, it’s worth a go? You won’t know unless you try.”

Daniele regarded their concerned faces uncertainly. He wasn’t sure it would work, but his father had a point. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Nobody felt much like cooking, so they stayed in town for dinner. As the hidden sun slipped deeper towards the sea and the streetlights sputtered into life around the square, they paid for their drinks and took the short walk down Via Roma to Da Rossi, the restaurant belonging to Angelo’s older brother Pietro and Gianni’s cousin Anna.

The proprietors greeted them warmly and showed them to one of their best tables. Perhaps they could tell that the mood between then was sombre, because they made an extra effort to make them feel welcome and cheer them up, chatting amiably with them and telling them funny stories. Amidst the lush pot plants, colourful feature walls, quirky photos and cosy lighting, Daniele did begin to feel a little better. The thought that he might still have a fighting chance of winning his best friend back, even if they never went out as a couple again, had helped to lift him out of his gloom.

At bedtime, Daniele fished his phone out of his pocket and stared at it nervously. Mustering his courage, he pinned all his hopes on one simple text message to Giacomo, much as he had the morning after the disco.

‘I really miss you. Can we talk?’

He stared at the phone for several minutes, waiting for the three tell-tale dots that would save him from his misery, but there was no response.

Glumly, he set the phone aside and began to change for bed. Maybe things would look better in the morning.

* * *

Daniele was woken the next morning by a buzz from his phone. His heart jumped to his mouth at once as, wide awake, he pounced on the phone to see if Giacomo had replied.

He had, with one, short word:

‘Ok.’

Daniele bit his lip anxiously. It could have been worse, but he had been hoping for more. Thankfully, three wonderful dots appeared, promising more on the way.

‘Come to mine after Mamma’s opened the shop,’ Giacomo went on. ‘We can talk then.’

‘Cool.’

Daniele exhaled slowly. Feeling more hopeful than he had for days, he got out of bed and flung open his shutters and windows, letting the world into his bedroom, then busied himself getting ready.

What was the right outfit for a reconciliation, he wondered? To put on his classic pink t-shirt that Giacomo liked might presume too much; whereas, to put on the trendy shirt Giacomo had given him a couple of years ago might seem like sucking up.

In the end, he put on his most sombre, understated blue tie-dye t-shirt and hoped for the best.

Over breakfast, he told his parents that he had finally made contact with Giacomo. With slightly anxious eyes, they wished him good luck. He wondered what outcome they were hoping for. If they had been bothered by the idea of Daniele and Giacomo as a couple, they certainly hadn’t shown it the night before.

He set out when he was sure that Elena would have opened her shop for the day and the dark-eyed boy would be alone. To vary his routine, he walked the back way, past the twin domes of the Chiesa della Santissima Annunziata, so familiar from postcards and calendars he had seen for sale all over town, and up a steep flight of old stone steps until he reached the welcome cool of the pedestrian tunnel under the Villa Rufolo. Scattering lizards as he went, he climbed to the Toro via the leafy seclusion of the Bishop’s Way, wondering how he could begin to explain himself.

He was still no closer to knowing by the time he arrived at the front door of Giacomo’s apartment. Nervously, he knocked at the door and pushed it open. It wasn’t locked.

Daniele trailed up the steep stairs, his trainers squeaking slightly on the ceramic tiles. As he set foot in the light, bright kitchen diner at the front of the apartment, he was stopped in his tracks.

The dark-eyed boy was standing in the doorway that led to the rest of the apartment, watching him.

“Ciao,” Giacomo mumbled.

As he set his eyes upon the other boy for the first time in over a week, a strange eruption of feeling began in Daniele’s chest, quickening his heartbeat and tightening his throat. Joy fought with doubt, crushing guilt and a desperate desire to just hold his friend and be forgiven.

Judging by the conflicting feelings that flitted across Giacomo’s face as Daniele watched, he was undergoing a similar internal struggle. Then, almost as one, they sprung forward and pulled each other into a tight embrace. They held each other for a few seconds, until Daniele felt a little of the tension start to leave both their bodies. He felt his heart rate settle down a little as he allowed himself to hope that things could yet, perhaps, be okay between them.

“I’m sorry, Giaco,” he blurted out, releasing the other boy and backing away a step or two. “I’ve… missed you so much.”

“I missed you, too,” Giacomo said quietly. “The last few days have…” He looked away. “They haven’t been fun.”

Daniele could feel the pain and confusion coming off the other boy in waves. His eyes begin to prickle, and he rubbed at them, desperate not to cry. “What can I do?” he asked in a small voice.

The other boy flung his arms open with a sudden, desperate energy. “Talk to me!” he replied. “Why don’t you trust me, Dani? What did Marco say to you? I mean… what did I do wrong?”

“I… I’ll try.”

The dark-eyed boy sighed a little and moved to the fridge. Pulling out a couple of Lemon Sodas, he handed one to Daniele.

“Here,” he said, more gently. “Let’s go and sit down, or something.”

Avoiding the awkward formality of the kitchen table, Giacomo led the way through to the cosy gloom of his bedroom. They sat down together on the soft rug in the middle of the floor, where they could address each other as equals. For a moment, Daniele was transported back to November, to that first kiss that had been so unexpected and confusing. He wondered if he would ever feel so close to the other boy again.

He took a sip of his drink and tried to work out where to begin.

“When I told Marco about us,” he said, “he sort of… freaked out.”

“What did you tell him, exactly?” Giacomo asked warily.

“Enough,” Daniele replied, looking guiltily at his hands for a second. “Anyway… he kinda lost it for a moment, and he came out with all this stuff about how you sort of…” He hesitated.

“How I what?” Giacomo pressed quietly.

Daniele steeled himself. “How you sort of drop people. First him and Emilia, then me, then Laura… like you’re always moving onto the new thing, as if nobody really matters.” He shook his head miserably. “It hit me pretty hard.”

“But… that makes it sound really bad, like I don’t care at all,” Giacomo protested. He paused, looking hurt. “I mean… it wasn’t like that. I just got kinda… swept along by everything.”

Daniele was lost for words for a moment. “I…”

Giacomo gave him a pained look. “Was that really all it took to make you ditch me, Dani? Because…”

Daniele shook his head. “No, I… I think there was something in my head already. If there hadn’t been… I don’t think what Marco said would have got to me so much.”

“Oh,” Giacomo mumbled, tugging distractedly at a few tufts poking out of the rug. Reluctantly, his dark eyes flicked up to Daniele again, seeming to await his judgement.

Daniele hesitated, searching for the words to explain how he felt.

“It’s like… you’re always putting on a show, you know?” he ventured. “You’ll do what it takes to get what you want.” He glanced away awkwardly for a second. “I’m never sure I’m seeing the real you.”

Giacomo’s eyes widened slightly. “That’s the thing?” he asked. “That’s the thing you can’t live with?”

Daniele shrugged. “Love needs trust.”

Giacomo frowned unhappily and hugged his knees. “I could explain, but… if you don’t trust me, anything I say is just going to sound like an excuse.”

“Try me,” Daniele entreated him. “I want to understand.”

Giacomo thought for a moment, but then he looked up with a bitter sort of determination in his dark eyes.

“My dad walked out when I was three,” he said. “After you get abandoned like that, you sort of learn to present your best face to people and take what you can from them before they’re gone. Either that, or you let it destroy you.” He turned his attention back to the rug, adding in a mumble, “I guess I did what Mamma couldn’t.”

“Oh,” Daniele replied, trying to take it all in.

When the other boy looked up again, his expression had softened a little. “But it gets lonely,” he went on. “You can’t live like that forever. It could send you pazzo.”

“I guess not,” Daniele murmured. “I… know I couldn’t.”

Giacomo sighed. “And then you came along… someone who was prepared to risk everything for me without even being asked. You reached out to help a stranger, you put yourself in danger.” Giacomo shook his head wearily. “I mean… you changed my life, Dani. Straight, gay or bi, how could I not fall in love with you?”

“So, you’re saying…” Daniele said uncertainly.

“Of course you see the real me!” Giacomo burst out desperately. “You know me better than anyone. I mean… you’ve already seen me at my worst. You’ve lived it. Why would I try to hide anything else from you?”

Several things were falling into place in Daniele’s heart. The tears were back again; this time, he let them fall.

“I… love you too,” he mumbled.

“Then… can’t we try to put all this behind us?” Giacomo asked.

Daniele looked up at him hopefully. “For real?”

The dark-eyed boy moved a little closer and brushed a couple of Daniele’s tears away. “Look… it’s my birthday on Monday,” he said quietly. “I was hoping we could do something special together, but you know… other stuff got in the way.”

Daniele nodded. “So… what are you going to do?”

Giacomo shrugged. “Mamma’s taking me out for pizza. It’s not a big deal. But… I think it’d be really cool if you could be there.”

Daniele felt his heart soar a little. “I’d… really like that,” he replied.

Giacomo sat back a little, something slightly changed in his expression.

“I’ve missed that,” he said.

“Missed what?” Daniele asked.

“You smiled.”

“Did I?”

Giacomo laughed slightly. “Don’t try to deny it.”

Daniele twisted his mouth slightly, still slightly unsure of his ground. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

There was still a trace of hurt in the other boy’s dark eyes but, reaching forwards, he took Daniele by the shoulders and pressed his forehead against his.

“We can get through this, Dani,” he said quietly. “I just need some time.”

* * *

Daniele left Giacomo’s apartment feeling lighter at heart than he had done in days. They were friends again. Beyond that… who knew? But the most important thing was that Giacomo would continue to be part of his life.

In his relief at being reunited with his friend, he had entirely forgotten to mention his brief experiment with Marco. He knew he would have to tell the other boy about it soon. He only hoped that, when the time came, Giacomo would find it in his heart to understand.

Now, once again, he needed to find a birthday present at short notice, and he decided to make it his day’s work to obtain one. He texted his mother to tell her where he was going, then set off down into the olive groves below town to begin the long walk down to Amalfi.

* * *

The next few days ticked by with frustrating slowness. With the dust still settling on all their changed relationships, Daniele saw little of his friends, and he spent a lot of his time working on a new story at home. In it, his superhero character found himself increasingly distracted from his calling by his fascination with the boy next door. He thought it might be interesting if the boy next door ended up working for the villain of the piece, although whether willingly, or under duress, he had yet to decide.

Daniele’s parents, though, were able to tell at once that he was feeling better. He kept the details vague, unsure as he was himself of exactly where he and Giacomo stood with each other, but he made it clear that there had been a reconciliation.

“I’m so happy for you,” Patrizia said, pulling him into an extra-long hug.

“I thought you’d come through this, champ,” Paolo said. “Nobody who knows you that well could stand to be without you for long.”

“C’mon, Papà,” Daniele protested, shuffling his feet in embarrassment, but his father just chuckled.

“Giacomo’s a lucky boy, and he knows it. I won’t apologise for saying so.”

But Daniele wasn’t so sure. He had a feeling that there were still things unsaid between them.

When, at last, Monday morning came round, Daniele took extra care over his appearance. He took an extra shower and brushed his hair until it was super soft. After due consideration, he picked his pink tie-dye t-shirt, deciding that the time was right to remind the other boy of happier times.

At the appointed hour, Daniele walked up to town. They were due to meet at the same pizza terrace he had gone to with Marco, so Daniele headed straight for the avenue of oleanders to wait for Giacomo and his mother to arrive.

Such was his impatience to get there that he had arrived several minutes early. A little anxiously, for the tentative nature of their initial reunion still weighed on his mind, he waited on the shady side of the street amidst the sprays of pink flowers and glossy, dark green foliage, leaning against the old stone boundary wall. The distant cicadas scraped away among the pine trees in the square, pigeons fluttered, and a few people passed by; visitors mostly, but also a few locals, some of whom acknowledged him with a nod or a quiet ‘Buongiorno.’

Eventually, he spied two instantly recognisable figures making their way down the gentle stairway. Heart beating nervously, he stepped away from the warm stonework and into the sunlight, squinting a little in the glare, concealing Giacomo’s birthday presents behind his back.

“There’s a familiar face,” Elena smiled, brushing her prematurely greying hair back over her ears. “I’ve missed having you around, Daniele. I’m so glad the two of you have made up.”

Once again, Daniele found himself wondering how much she really knew about what had passed between them.

“Thanks, signora,” he replied. His eyes flicked to the other boy, and he ventured a smile.

“Ciao, Dani,” Giacomo said. He was turned out in typical style, Daniele noticed, wearing a navy-blue shirt open over a flattering fitted t-shirt with his hair neatly styled.

“Auguri, Giaco,” Daniele said, handing his two parcels to the other boy.

“Thanks,” Giacomo smiled. “That’s really cool.” His dark eyes found his mother. “Should we go in before I open these?”

Elena nodded. “I think so. Andiamo.”

They ventured inside. One of the waiters sat them down at a table in the welcome shade of the wooden canopy next to the pretty garden, where a couple of feral cats prowled, waiting to pounce on any scraps of food that were dropped or spilled. Giacomo waited while they ordered their drinks and picked their pizzas, but Daniele could tell that he was impatient to open his gifts. Daniele smiled slightly to himself as he saw the other boy’s eyes flick to them for the fourth or fifth time.

“Open the bigger one first,” Daniele said when his friend finally reached for the presents. “It’s less special.”

Giacomo laughed slightly as he tore the wrappings off a very familiar deodorant and shower gel set.

“Thanks, Dani,” he said.

“No more stinky Giaco,” Daniele replied with a small smile.

“‘Stinky Giaco?’” Elena repeated, putting a hand to her mouth in quickly suppressed mirth.

Giacomo snickered. “It was a thing,” he told her.

Amused by his economy with the truth, Daniele shook his head slightly.

Yeah… part of a much bigger thing!

Finally, Giacomo reached for the smaller package. Just as he had dithered over Marco’s ring, Daniele had spent a long time weighing up whether to buy the item; it had stretched his budget, but he had decided it was worth it and, with Giacomo’s commitment to style, he didn’t think the other boy would be afraid to wear it.

The other boy seemed to sense that the gift might be delicate, because he opened the parcel very slowly and carefully, then upended it gently into his other hand.

Giacomo’s dark eyes widened as a silver name bracelet slid from the package, lying gleaming in his hand. Reverently, he picked it up and examined the engravings: on the outside, ‘GIACOMO’; and, in small writing tucked away on the inside, ‘from Dani ©’.

“This is awesome,” he whispered. Carefully, he undid the clasp and threaded it around his left wrist. After fumbling at it with his other hand for a moment, he held it out to Daniele with a slightly shamefaced smile. “Would you help me?”

Daniele nodded and, with two free hands, had the bracelet done up in moments.

There was a quiet sniff from Elena, and they turned to her. “It’s beautiful, Daniele,” she said, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue.

While the boy in question smiled awkwardly, Giacomo cringed a little.

“Ah, c’mon, Mamma,” he protested. “You’re embarrassing me!”

“I’m sorry, caro,” she said with a watery smile. She turned to Daniele and placed her hand on his for a moment. “It’s just… Giacomo’s my star. I’ve been all he’s had for so long… I’m just so glad to know there’s someone else out there who cares for him almost as much as I do.”

* * *

After the gift-giving had gone so well, Daniele felt thoroughly hungry. The spent present wrappings were taken away by the obliging waiting staff as they arrived with two enormous pizzas. As was her way, Elena had opted for a marginally more modest salad that was livened up with artichokes, prosciutto and shavings of parmigiano cheese.

Taking a leaf out of Marco’s book, Daniele had opted for a classic Neapolitan pizza with anchovies, which he waded through with gusto while Giacomo demolished a pizza topped garlic king prawns, rocket and fresh tomatoes. As they ate, they threw the occasional smile at each other, enjoying the simple act of eating together.

Once their appetites had been thoroughly sated, Elena confessed that she couldn’t possibly manage a dessert.

“Anyway,” she sighed, “I expect you’d both like to spend a little time on your own. Why don’t you go and buy yourselves some ice creams, my treat?”

They paid the bill and got up to go. Elena popped the deodorant and shower gel set into her handbag to take home, then she paused to embrace her son. They clung to each other with such obvious affection that Daniele was almost embarrassed to watch. He remembered how hard the dark-eyed boy had fought to protect his mother in the days when Ettore Neri’s protection racket had cast its shadow over the town.

Yes, he thought… here, at least, was someone who trusted Giacomo completely.

Armed with some extra cash, Daniele and Giacomo said goodbye to Elena and stopped off at the ice cream parlour on the corner of the cathedral square to pick up their dessert. A few minutes later, they emerged with an ice cream each; Daniele sampled a chocolate and raspberry cone, while Giacomo licked at a scoop of strawberry and a scoop of melon. Amidst the soporific heat of the afternoon, they wandered over to their usual bench under the pine trees and sat down together.

It felt so good to be sitting with his friend again, and for minute Daniele simply basked in the feeling. Were it not for the silver bracelet that glinted on Giacomo’s wrist, Daniele could almost have imagined that the last few weeks had never happened.

It’s not over, though, is it? I still have one more thing I need to tell him.

“Emilia and Luca got back together,” he said. “This time, Laura’s learning what it’s like to be the third wheel.”

Giacomo smiled. “Good for them,” he said. He snickered. “Even if Luca can be kinda annoying sometimes.”

“Giaco…” Daniele ventured quietly, “there’s something else you need to know.”

Giacomo looked at him attentively, diverted by his more serious tone.

“What is it?” he asked. “You can tell me anything, Dani.”

“I don’t think you’ll like it, but…” Daniele ran an anxious hand through his hair. “I don’t want to keep secrets anymore.”

Giacomo frowned slightly. “Go on.”

Daniele took a deep breath. “While we were apart, Marco and I sort of… gave it a go.”

Giacomo stared at him in disbelief. There was a moment’s very uncomfortable silence.

“Seriously?” he replied. “I mean… I was only gone five minutes.”

Daniele nodded. “I know,” he said desperately. “It was a stupid mistake. We realised that as soon as we kissed, but…”

“You kissed him?” Giacomo replied incredulously. “Again?”

Daniele’s heart sank at the fresh pain he saw etched in Giacomo’s dark eyes. He realised it was better that his friend knew, but the knowledge that he had done the right thing brought him little comfort.

“I’m sorry,” he said in a small voice.

Giacomo slumped in his seat. “Jesus,” he muttered. He looked at the remains of his half-eaten ice cream cone, as if surprised to see that it was still there, and he tossed it into the shrubs beneath the pine trees, where the pigeons descended on it at once. “I guess I’m not feeling very sweet right now.”

After only a moment’s further thought, Daniele followed suit, and soon the pigeons had a double meal to squabble over.

“I thought I’d lost you forever,” Daniele mumbled. “I was so upset, and Marco was just sort of… there for me.” He looked unhappily at the other boy, who was studiously avoiding his eyes. “I swear, I’d never have done it if I thought we’d be friends again so soon.”

“And if we broke up again, right now?” Giacomo asked. “You wouldn’t go running back to Marco tomorrow?”

“No!” Daniele shook his head desperately. “We’re friends, that’s all. We both understand that now.” He glanced miserably down at his fingernails. “It’s you that I want. It’s only ever been you.” He sighed, then made the humblest offer he could. “But if you didn’t want to be with me any more after this… I’d understand.”

“Hey – I didn’t say that, Dani,” Giacomo replied. “It’s just… this pretty much sucks.”

Daniele nodded. “I know.”

Giacomo got to his feet. “Let’s walk,” he said. “I feel like I need to be doing something right now.”

“Okay.”

Dodging slow-moving visitors, they set out across the square, making for the shade of Via Roma. Giacomo set a brisk pace, and Daniele hurried to keep up, watching him anxiously. The dark-eyed boy walked with his shoulders set tensely, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

He’s taking it pretty hard… but can I blame him…?

As they reached the tiny square outside Da Rossi, they heard quiet voices emanating from a turning beside the church. The voices sounded angry and agitated, enough so to stop Daniele and Giacomo in their tracks, and they both glanced in that direction.

Enzo Palmeri was talking to a good-looking boy of about sixteen with tousled, mid-length brown hair and unhappy green eyes. It was the first time they had seen him in daylight, but it could only be Cosmo Neri. Noticing them both watching, Enzo gave them the briefest of glares and then melted away in the direction of the ceramics workshop.

Cosmo looked at them suspiciously for a moment, but without recognition, then turned and began to slink away in the opposite direction.

Next to Daniele, Giacomo was breathing hard.

“Hey!” he called angrily.

Cosmo halted abruptly, like a young child caught out of bounds by a teacher.

“What, kid?” he replied, with attempt at bravado that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Daniele followed in dismay as Giacomo strode up to the other boy to confront him.

“Giaco!” he whispered, but the other boy ignored him.

“We know what you’re doing here,” Giacomo spat at the green-eyed boy. “Why do you people keep trying to ruin our town? Take your mobster crap somewhere else.”

Cosmo backed away warily. “I... don’t know what you’re talking about,” he blustered.

Giacomo took another step forwards. “Oh, yeah?” he countered fiercely. “So, we haven’t seen you and Enzo guarding your little cache in that compound below town, taking orders from your dear aunt Assunta?”

At the mention of Assunta Neri, Cosmo finally seemed to find his strength. “Listen, kid,” he hissed. “I don’t know who you are. I don’t care who you are. But stay out of this, if you know what’s good for you.”

He turned on his heel and hurried away. Still fuming, Giacomo made as if to follow him, but Daniele seized him by the arm to hold him back.

“Don’t, Giaco,” he said urgently.

With an angry grunt, Giacomo shook himself free.

“Don’t tell me what to do, Dani!” he snapped.

Daniele backed away as if slapped, looking at him in dismay.

“I’m sorry,” he said anxiously.

But Giacomo subsided a little, looking ashamed of himself.

“No, I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “Look… I’m going to take off. I’ll see you in day or two, maybe.”

“Okay,” Daniele said quietly, shoving his hands unhappily into his pockets.

Giacomo turned to leave. “Ciao, Dani.”

“I love you!” Daniele called quietly.

Giacomo acknowledged the remark with a reluctant nod and a final glance from his dark eyes, then disappeared down the steps behind the church. The last Daniele saw of the other boy was the afternoon sunlight glinting off the silver bracelet on his wrist.

Miserably, he turned and retreated once more to the shady confines of Via Roma, searching for a distraction. The day hadn’t turned out the way he’d hoped at all.