Dani the Hero - 5. Chapter 5

The next morning, Daniele awoke to the cries of low-flying swifts just outside his shuttered windows. He opened his eyes slowly, staring up into the gloom of the ceiling, his mind largely free of thought. Tiny strips of early morning sunlight shone through the slats in his shutters, picking up motes of dust that drifted through the air.

Giacomo.

The thought lanced through the darkness, shattering the peace of his waking mind. Before he knew it, he was sitting bolt upright in his bed, heart fluttering nervously.

He wants to be my friend. I need to be cool.

Daniele swung out of bed and opened his shutters, pausing for a quick look at the view as he always did. The sky and sea were already a vivid cobalt blue, promising another hot day to come.

He would be taking a long shower this morning, for sure, but first he needed to choose something to wear. He shook off his vest top, discarding it on the side of the bed, and prised open his wardrobe doors. His rack of colourful tie-dye t-shirts greeted him. Daniele pictured Giacomo’s smart fitted tees and fashionable jackets, and suddenly he felt depressed. The contents of his own wardrobe didn’t look cool at all.

What would Toto say?

The answer came easily enough. Toto would tell me to be myself.

Deciding to trust his imagined advice, Daniele reached for his favourite pink t-shirt and unhooked the hanger from the rail. He hoped he wasn’t making a mistake. Glancing into the mirror, he held the t-shirt up against his chest and ran a hand through his mop of soft blond hair. He had always liked the combination before; he would take a chance on it today, too.

A while later, Daniele wandered into the kitchen diner, freshly showered, dosed with deodorant (just in case) and fully dressed except for his bare feet.

His parents were already up and about, chatting as they went about the morning chores. Paolo was laying out the breakfast things, while Patrizia was emptying the dishwasher from the previous night, putting plates and utensils back in their proper places.

“Sergio says restaurant bookings are up again,” Patrizia was saying. “It looks like it’s going to be a good season this year.”

Paolo grunted. “The visitors aren’t going to let a couple of damaged shopfronts stop them.”

“I suppose it’s too much to hope that the trouble has stopped?” Patrizia wondered. “It’s been a couple of weeks since the attack on Da Rossi.”

“We’d have heard something if the police had cracked the case…” Paolo began, before he caught sight of Daniele. “Oh, hey, son.”

“Buongiorno, Papà,” Daniele replied.

Patrizia came over and they exchanged a morning kiss.

“You smell nice this morning,” she said with an amused smile.

“Oh…” Daniele shuffled his feet, embarrassed. “I might have put too much deodorant on.”

“Bless you, caro, you hardly need it,” she replied.

“He’s just being prepared for anything, aren’t you, champ?” Paolo interjected.

Daniele shrugged. “I guess.”

They settled down for breakfast together. Patrizia passed around three glasses of freshly squeezed orange juice, while Daniele helped himself to some warm ciabatta from the toast rack in the middle of the table and a spoonful of apricot preserve.

“What’s happening today?” he asked his parents.

“Another full day of motoring,” Paolo replied. “No rest for the wicked.”

“Sergio has me rostered on for lunch and dinner today,” Patrizia said apologetically, “you know what it’s like on Saturdays. I’m sorry, caro.”

Daniele nodded. “It’s okay.”

“How about you, son?” Paolo asked. “What will you be doing this fine day?”

“I’m spending the day with Giacomo,” Daniele said, flushing a little.

Paolo blinked. “Who?”

“A friend from school,” Daniele replied. The words came out in a rush.

Paolo stared at him. “You mean…”

“Yes, Papà,” Daniele replied, “he’s my age.”

“Is this the boy you mentioned to me the other week?” Patrizia asked.

“That’s him.”

Patrizia smiled. “That’s wonderful. Why didn’t you mention you’d made a new friend? What’s he like?”

“I don’t really know yet,” Daniele replied truthfully. Realising this must sound odd, he added, “I mean… we’ve only been friends for a few days.”

Patrizia put a hand to her mouth as if she still couldn’t really believe what she was hearing. “Well, I hope you have a lovely day. If it goes well, you should bring him here some time. We’d love to meet him.”

Daniele pictured the scene. He imagined bringing the dark-eyed boy home, like a teenager bringing his girlfriend to meet his parents for the first time. Mamma, Papà, this is Giacomo Agnello, he would say. By day, he plays Pokémon cards at school with a boy and a girl who both hate me. By night, he carries out secret missions for the evil Ettore Neri and his amateur protection racket. He bit his lip, fighting a sudden urge to giggle madly, and wondered for a moment if he was losing his mind.

“I’d like that,” he replied, forcing himself to speak steadily. He turned to his father, who, of the two of them, was more likely to be carrying cash. “Please could I have some money?” he asked. “We’re going to the Villa Cimbrone, and… you know… in case we want to get some lunch together.”

“Of course, champ,” he replied, looking completely blindsided by Daniele’s sudden ramping up of his social life. He reached into his trouser pocket and handed Daniele a couple of banknotes.

“Thanks, Papá,” Daniele said gratefully, placing the money carefully in the pocket of his own light khaki shorts.

* * *

Shortly before ten o’clock, Daniele stepped into the cathedral square. He threaded his way between the colourful flowerpots and past the bars, where a few early visitors sat drinking coffees. He glanced around carefully to make sure Giacomo hadn’t arrived before him, but there was no sign of the other boy. The shopkeepers around the edges of the square had already erected their outdoor displays, and the rustic rendered walls were lined with baskets of colourful ceramics and racks of postcards, calendars and books.

Daniele crossed the square, heading towards the same bench he had shared with Giacomo last night. The morning sun beat down on the light-coloured paving stones, and he could feel it warming his back as he walked; he was glad of the shade of the pine trees as he sat down to wait for his new friend.

What if he’s not coming?

Daniele stamped on the small voice of doubt at the back of his mind. He knew Giacomo would be along soon enough; it was just a matter of time. He distracted himself by watching the passers-by instead.

By the railings, a young couple were chatting as they took in the view over the valley. After a while, Daniele noticed something curious: most of the time, the young man listened to the young woman attentively but, whenever she glanced towards him, he looked hurriedly away.

Not a couple, he amended. He’s in love with her and she doesn’t even realise.

At a small table outside one of the bars, two young men were talking over cappuccinos. The first man was telling a tale of some kind, laughing fit to burst. The second man’s smile looked strangely fixed, and he was stirring his coffee in a way that seemed rather repetitive and unnecessary.

Something about his friend’s story is making him uncomfortable.

Meanwhile, up at the top of the cathedral steps, Father Stefano, the priest, was talking amiably with a stout, elderly woman dressed in a traditional black dress. Daniele was pretty sure it was Gianni and Anna’s grandmother. He wondered what she was doing there, seeing as there had been no church service this morning.

She was probably feeling lonely and stopped by for a chat on the way to the shop.

It wasn’t unusual for Daniele to notice such things; it was only on the vaguest level that he realised that it might be rare for a child of his age to do it so unfailingly.

He was spared any further idle contemplations, for at that moment Giacomo appeared, walking towards him with a spring in his step, and Daniele was diverted at once.

Giacomo was dressed in a stylish, long-sleeved shirt of dark blue denim, which he wore open over a stripy blue and white t-shirt, a pair of matching denim shorts and a new pair of trainers. His short black hair was styled into its usual neat little spikes, and his dark eyes were alert with an air of playful challenge about them. He carried a football under one arm.

Daniele, contemplating his own softer appearance, felt under-dressed.

“Ciao, Dani,” Giacomo said, stopping expectantly in front of him.

Unsure what else to say, Daniele rose from his seat. “Ciao, Giacomo,” he replied automatically.

“I told you,” the other boy said patiently, “call me Giaco.”

Be cool, Dani.

“Giaco, right,” Daniele said, trying out the feel of it. He decided it felt okay. “How’s it going?”

Giacomo raised the ball and spun it on one finger. “Good,” he replied casually, “you?”

Daniele watched, mesmerised. “How do you do that?”

Giacomo shrugged. “It’s just a thing I picked up somewhere.” He suddenly made as if to throw the ball to Daniele, only to pull it back a split second later, giggling at Daniele’s panicked almost-reaction. “Fooled ya.”

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

Giacomo moved in and placed an arm around Daniele’s shoulders, surprising him for a second time. “Come on, let’s go,” he said, tugging him across the square in the direction of the footpath to the Villa Cimbrone. Daniele went along obediently, trying not to let the other boy see how disconcerted the whole thing made him feel.

They split apart again as they turned down the little side street lined with gift shops and stepped through the archway where Daniele’s usual route home met the stairway up towards the villa gardens. Giacomo bounced the ball once as they passed under the building, sounding an echoing ‘smack’ under the vaulted ceiling.

“Catch,” he said, tossing the ball to Daniele, who caught it without a word. Giacomo gave him a curious look.

“You don’t smile much, do you, Dani?” he said.

“Don’t I?” Daniele replied, puzzled, as they started up the hill. He was sure that was not what Toto and Michele would have said.

“You’ve got to keep smiling,” Giacomo said. “It makes the bad stuff seem less bad.” He scrunched up his face and, in a passable imitation of Ettore Neri’s rasping voice, added, “I command it.”

Daniele giggled in spite of himself. Giacomo grinned. “That’s better.”

They stairway led them through the arched porch of the convent. As they stepped into the welcome shade, Daniele noticed the other boy looking him up and down.

“Nice threads, Dani,” he said. Daniele glanced at him suspiciously, trying to work out whether he was being sarcastic: Giacomo had a mischievous glint in his eye, but he couldn’t detect any malice. “I mean, I wouldn’t… not in a million years… but you get away with it somehow. What’s with all the colours?”

Daniele shrugged. “I just like them,” he replied truthfully. “Your clothes are cooler.”

Giacomo gave him another careful look. “Hey, we’re about the same size. Want to try them out some time?”

Daniele laughed. “Me? Try on your clothes?”

Giacomo smirked. “Yeah, why not? Come round to my place. I’d like to see how you looked in them.”

Daniele pondered this slightly frightening prospect for a moment. “Only if you try mine, too,” he replied, seeking to even the score.

Giacomo covered his eyes for a moment in a gesture of exaggerated horror. “All right, done,” he groaned. “Pass the ball…?”

Daniele did.

“What else are you into?” Giacomo continued. “At school, like, nobody really seems to know you at all. Tell me about the real Daniele Ferrero.”

“Well…” Daniele began, momentarily taken aback by the implication that Giacomo might have gone so far as to actually ask other kids about him. Hastily, he rallied his thoughts, desperate to avoid seeming slow or dull.

By this time, they had reached the little café at the top of the hill. Welcoming the distraction, Daniele paused to say hello to the small stray tabby he had met there before, which was reclining in a patch of sun on the wall.

“I like cats,” he said.

“Okay. And…?” Giacomo pressed.

Daniele glanced at the other boy. “I write stories. Adventure stories, mostly.”

Giacomo frowned thoughtfully. “Really? I’m rubbish at writing…” He paused, then he smiled slowly. “But I like adventures.”

Daniele smiled tentatively back at him. “Me too.”

Giacomo grinned. “Come on, then,” he added, grabbing Daniele by the arm and pulling him along the street. “Let’s have one.”

“What…?” Daniele asked.

Giacomo hurried along the narrow lane with Daniele in hot pursuit. As they reached the vegetable garden, Giacomo veered off towards the little side street that Daniele had used on his way up the hill for Toto’s birthday party.

“But the Villa Cimbrone is this way,” Daniele said, gesturing along the main footpath.

“Yeah, but who wants to pay?” Giacomo replied with a wink. “Come on, Dani.”

Doubtfully, Daniele followed his new friend along the smaller path, darting between sprays of foliage from the creeper-covered walls and scattering lizards as they went. They descended past a small salmon-pink villa to a viewpoint overgrown with trees, then veered off along the hillside. The view of the coast soon opened out on the left; the sunlit buildings and beaches of Minori and Maiori glimmered in the distance. Refusing to be distracted, Daniele wondered where the other boy was taking him.

They reached a point where the path turned steeply downhill again. Ahead of them, a stone arch with a locked gate marked the entrance to a private estate.

“Hold this,” Giacomo said, passing the ball to Daniele. Without another word, he began scrambling up the stone wall next to the gate.

“Giaco!” Daniele hissed in alarm, but the other boy had already plopped down on the other side. He reappeared behind the locked gate, grinning remorselessly.

“Pop it through,” Giacomo said, indicating the football. Reluctantly, Daniele posted it through the gap between the top of the gate and the roof of the archway. “Now come on over,” Giacomo whispered, gesturing rapidly with his hand and glancing, fox-like, over his shoulder to make sure nobody was coming.

Daniele hoped his new friend knew what he was doing. Hooking his trainers into fissures in the wall, he scrambled to the top and dropped down on the other side, heart pounding with a heady mix of anxiety and excitement. Soon they were standing conspiratorially together just inside the gate, breathing heavily with the spirit of adventure.

They found themselves at the end of a stone-paved path that wound off between a scattering of trees, presumably towards a villa that was out of sight. The cicadas in the trees, temporarily silenced by the sudden flurry of activity on their doorstep, resumed their chorus, but now Daniele imagined he could hear a note of accusation in their rhythmic scraping.

“Follow me,” Giacomo said. They set off along the path at a trot, passing flowering shrubs and neat little lamps on posts, until they arrived just below a dense belt of trees at the top of the estate. Giacomo ushered him up an ancient connecting staircase, where they paused among the trees to make sure the coast was clear.

Daniele stared in disbelief. The Villa Cimbrone was straight ahead of him, but he was seeing it from completely the wrong angle. This part of the building was usually hidden from public view: they had arrived in some sort of kitchen garden, which, for the moment, seemed deserted.

Giacomo broke cover and led Daniele up through the lower terraces, following a route he had obviously used before. Before Daniele knew it, they had vaulted a low fence and emerged on the lawns in the public part of the gardens, looking for all the world as if they had arrived there the same way as all the other visitors.

Daniele and Giacomo exchanged a glance, then they both dissolved into fits of nervous laughter.

“I’m never doing anything like that again,” Daniele panted.

“Come on,” Giacomo replied. “It was kinda fun, wasn’t it?”

Daniele twisted his mouth shamefacedly. “Maybe a little,” he admitted.

They flopped down onto the ground together; Giacomo dropped the football, which rolled to a halt in the grass between them.

“You’re okay, Dani,” Giacomo said, fiddling with the lawn in an unconscious sort of way.

“Thanks, Giaco,” Daniele replied. Feeling a familiar dull heat rising to his cheeks, he moved on quickly. “So, are you going to tell me?”

“Tell you what?” Giacomo asked.

“About what you’re doing for Ettore Neri.”

Giacomo sighed. “Yeah, okay.” He lay back in the grass, putting his hands behind his head and staring into the blue sky, while Daniele looked on expectantly. “You’ve probably guessed most of it anyway. Once a week or so, I go out and I look for targets. Businesses that look like they could pay, that sort of thing. Sometimes, if the businesses aren’t coughing up enough money, Ettore just sends his goons out to burgle a house instead.” He glanced at Daniele. “I’m not proud of it.”

“Why do it, then?” Daniele asked quietly.

“You’ve seen Mamma’s shop,” the other boy replied. “Ettore pays me a cut, and… we need the money.” He turned away again as he said the last part, as if ashamed to admit it.

“Does your mother know?” Daniele asked, frowning as he tried to process it all.

Giacomo shook his head. “She’d never let me go if she did! She just thinks I’m running errands for cash.”

So, there it was, Daniele thought: the ugly truth, laid bare. Once again, he wished he had never found out about any of it… but then, he thought, how else would he and Giacomo have become friends?

“Thanks for telling me,” he mumbled.

Giacomo turned to look at him again. “Do you hate me now?” he asked quietly, all his earlier playfulness temporarily stripped away.

Daniele shook his head, wrestling with conflicting feelings. “No… I guess I even understand a little.” He paused. “But, Ettore’s scheme… it’s hurting people I care about. Would you ever stop?”

Giacomo also looked conflicted for a moment. “It’s not that easy…” he said. “And even if I did stop, Ettore would only find someone else to take my place.”

“I followed Filippo,” Daniele admitted. “I spied on his house.”

Giacomo sat up. “Wow, Dani,” he said, his tone respectful, “you don’t need me to lead you astray. You’re a criminal genius.”

“I’d rather be a superhero,” Daniele replied automatically.

Giacomo’s mouth twitched. “Seriously?”

“Anyway, I saw him talking to his mother…”

Giacomo shuddered. “She gives me the creeps.”

“…and she reckons Ettore’s whole scheme is going to fall apart soon anyway.”

Giacomo smiled then, and there was such relief in his face that Daniele couldn’t help warming to him again.

“Maybe then I’d be off the hook for good,” Giacomo said.

For the moment, Daniele decided he was satisfied. Giacomo didn’t want to be doing what he was doing. He still wanted to get his new friend out of it all, but the other boy had only just trusted him with the truth, and he didn’t want to ruin his chances by pushing the idea too soon.

“Emilia and Marco?” Daniele asked.

“They can’t know,” Giacomo replied seriously. “It might not be safe.” He paused, patting his hands distractedly against the grass, before looking anxiously back up at Daniele. “I wish nobody knew, but it’s already too late for you, and…” he faltered. “I’m also sort of glad to have someone I can talk to about all this.”

Giacomo’s eyes seemed to grow very bright for a moment, and he looked away, rubbing at them with his hands.

Is he crying…?

But when Giacomo turned back, his eyes seemed normal again. He stood, brushing scraps of cut grass off his shorts, and Daniele followed suit.

“Friends?” Giacomo said hopefully.

“Friends,” Daniele replied with a smile.

Giacomo smiled back and, before Daniele could react any further, sprang forward and pulled him into a hug. Utterly unprepared, with all his senses in overdrive, Daniele just about managed to hug the other boy back.

Giacomo broke away, leaving Daniele feeling rattled and strangely depleted, and picked up the football.

“Come on, then,” he exhorted Daniele, “let’s play.”

* * *

A while later, the two boys were standing together on the so-called Terrace of Infinity, leaning over the parapet and looking out over the endless view. The terrace stood at the prow of the rocky crag on which the Villa Cimbrone stood, at the top of a sheer cliff that faced out towards the sea. Far below, the foothills spilled down to the water’s edge, terraced plantations swirling round the contours like an abstract painting, dotted with villas, gnarled umbrella pines and slender cypress trees. The calm sea was a soft shroud of deep blue stretching off into the distance.

They had played football together for a while on the lawn. Daniele had never really enjoyed the sport, but today it was only one-to-one, and he had enough natural grace in his movements to hold his own. After a while, they had agreed to take a break, and they had fetched up here, talking about other important matters.

“No way is Spider-Man the best Marvel superhero!” Giacomo protested.

“I like the fact that he’s just a normal kid,” Daniele reasoned.

“I’d rather be Thor,” Giacomo replied. “Come to me!” he commanded, striking a pose and pretending to summon his hammer.

Daniele laughed. “Thor? No way, he’s too cheesy.”

Giacomo nodded and grinned. “Yeah, but isn’t that the point?”

“Anyway, I didn’t say I wanted to be Spider-Man,” Daniele replied. “I just said he’s my favourite.”

“So, what would your super-power be, Dani?” Giacomo asked.

“I’d like to be a healer,” Daniele said. “Although…” he added inconclusively, peering down at the landscape unfurled below them.

“Although what?” Giacomo prompted.

“I have these two friends,” Daniele said. He hesitated, wondering how the other boy would react. “You know Toto and Michele?”

“Yeah,” Giacomo replied, apparently unconcerned, “They’re together, right? I’ve seen them around town.”

Daniele nodded. “Toto told me they used to pretend they could fly. I’d love to be able to do that.”

Giacomo followed Daniele’s eyeline down over the cliff. “Yeah, that would be seriously cool.” He paused thoughtfully. “You know, I heard some kid tried to jump off this terrace a few years back.”

Daniele stared at him, a little awed at the thought. “Really?”

Giacomo nodded. “Someone stopped him, I think… but imagine, if it happened today, and you could fly…”

“I could save them,” Daniele mused, “like Superman.”

Giacomo made a face. “Bleurgh, Dani, Superman’s DC Comics…! And he wears his underpants on the outside.”

They looked at each other in silence for a couple of seconds, then they both collapsed into fits of giggles.

Daniele was amazed at how easy his new friend was to talk to, and he wondered how he’d allowed himself to miss out for all these years. As twelve o’clock came round, they both agreed that it was time to head back into town for lunch, and they set off together down the main central avenue of the gardens, the May sunshine casting dappled shadows on the dirt path. Fragrant wisteria flowers and grapevines surrounded them as they walked side by side.

They used the main entrance this time. Daniele felt a moment of anxiety as they approached the ticket kiosk, but the bespectacled woman at the desk – whom he vaguely recognised as a cousin of Angelo’s – barely looked up from the book she was reading as they passed, and they slipped out through the gates, unchallenged, and returned to the freedom of the street outside.

They made their way companionably back to the cathedral square and pooled some of their money to order pizza slices from one of the bars; their waiter, busy with the lunchtime trade, seemed quite unconcerned to be serving two twelve-year-olds who were eating on their own. At one point, Daniele spotted Michele, who was heading across the square on business of his own. They exchanged a wave; the older boy gave him a look of curious interest at the sight of his lunch date.

When the two friends had finished eating, they bought ice creams from a gelateria on the corner of Via Roma and lingered under the umbrella pines as they ate them, surrounded by the rhythmic scraping of the cicadas. Giacomo had opted for a citrus mix, while Daniele waded through a classic pairing of chocolate and vanilla.

“So, how about it?” Giacomo asked as he nibbled away the last part of his cone. “Want to come up to my place? We could do that thing with our clothes…”

“Now?” Daniele asked, scarcely believing it.

Giacomo shrugged. “Unless you have somewhere else you need to be…”

Daniele shook his head quickly. “No, it’s fine. I’m in.”

Giacomo grinned. “Cool,” he replied. “Come on, then.”

Giacomo led the way. Against the ever-increasing heat of the afternoon, they hugged the old stone walls for shade as they climbed the avenue of oleanders next to the cathedral. They turned up the main street through the Toro and made the short final climb to Giacomo’s mother’s shop.

“We’d better check in first,” Giacomo said, leading Daniele across the threshold.

Daniele had never been into the shop before, and he gazed around it curiously. The space itself was small and shabby, but it was piled high with colourful ceramics. The shelves that lined the walls groaned under the weight of stacked plates, bowls, vases and salt and pepper shakers; on the floor, crates full of smaller items like thimbles, ashtrays and decorative tiles lined the walls two boxes deep. Everywhere he looked, Daniele saw floral patterns, lemons and grapes and even hand-painted versions of some of the town’s most popular views and landmarks.

Elena Agnello emerged from the studio room behind the counter. She was dressed in another faded and shapeless dress, and she looked every bit as tired and anxious as she had the first time Daniele had seen her, but her face broke into the warmest of smiles when she saw her son.

“Ciao, caro,” she said.

“Ciao, Mamma,” Giacomo replied.

Elena turned to her other visitor. “And… it’s Daniele isn’t it?” Her brow creased in a polite but puzzled frown. “I thought you said the two of you weren’t really friends?”

Daniele and Giacomo exchanged a glance; Daniele offered Elena a slightly guilty smile, and Giacomo threw an arm around his shoulders again.

“We’re friends now,” Giacomo told her.

“Well, that’s lovely,” Elena smiled distractedly.

“Is it okay if I take Daniele upstairs for a bit?”

“Of course,” she nodded. “Make sure you lock the door behind you, caro.”

Daniele thought he saw a shadow fall over her face as she said this, as if she were troubled by something. Giacomo must have seen it, too, because he frowned. “Are you okay, Mamma?”

“I’ve just can’t stop thinking about these attacks,” she sighed. “It’s been several days since the last one now. What if we’re next?”

Giacomo crossed the room and took her hand, a pained look in the depths of his eyes. “It’ll be okay, Mamma,” he replied. “We won’t be next, I promise.”

Elena uttered a watery little laugh and embraced him. “Thank you, tesoro,” she said, gently pushing him away again. “I should really be the one reassuring you, not the other way round.”

Daniele felt he should say something supportive. “Did you make all of these ceramics, signora?” he asked.

Elena nodded. “Most of them, yes.”

“I think they’re brilliant.”

“Thank you,” she smiled, “I try my best. Go on, take yourselves upstairs. Have a lovely time.”

Giacomo seemed a little quiet as he led Daniele out of the shop and unlocked the door that opened on the apartment stairs, but he soon cheered up as he gave Daniele a tour of his home. Daniele was shown around a light and airy kitchen diner, where Giacomo offered him a glass of water; then there was a small and slightly cluttered living room with an old television in one corner. Well-tended pot plants brightened the scene, and the walls were lined with photographs of Giacomo through the ages, from bouncing baby to gap-toothed child and, eventually, to his present, stylish self.

Giacomo’s own room was at the back of the building. It had one large window that looked down over the terracotta rooftops of Via Roma to the distant hillside of Scala beyond, flooding the room with light and warmth. The walls were painted a pale sky blue with a faded mural of fluffy white clouds, giving it the look of a childhood bedroom that had not quite moved with the times. The contents of the room seemed more grown-up, apart from a large cardboard box in one corner that looked like it contained a few of Giacomo’s old favourite toys. The linen on the unmade bed had a simple modern pattern of black and silver circles, and there was a great variety of cupboards and drawers, where Daniele supposed Giacomo kept all his trendy clothes. A full-height mirror had been installed opposite the window, where Daniele imagined Giacomo would check his reflection each morning to make sure he was looking smart. In a reassuringly familiar way that reminded Daniele of his own bedroom at home, Giacomo’s desk was cluttered with loose pens and pencils and untidy bits of paper.

“What do you think?” Giacomo asked.

“I like it,” Daniele replied; the other boy smiled, apparently pleased with this assessment.

Giacomo closed the shutters against the afternoon sun, which would soon be shining straight in from the west, and turned on a pair of lamps that lit the room up with a soft glow. As Daniele’s eyes adjusted to the relative gloom, Giacomo gave him a teasing look.

“So, who’s going first?” he said.

Daniele shrugged, suddenly feeling slightly uncomfortable. “I don’t mind,” he replied, despite a growing tightness in his chest.

Giacomo opened a wardrobe and eyed up his collection of shirts and jackets, occasionally pulling out a sleeve or a trouser leg and glancing in Daniele’s direction. “What to choose for Dani’s new look…” he pondered, an amused smile playing around his lips.

“Straight swap?” Daniele suggested, remembering the deal they had made on the hill.

Giacomo glanced across at Daniele’s soft pink t-shirt and pale shorts and giggled slightly. “Yeah, okay,” he replied.

Giacomo shrugged off his denim shirt and popped it off the bed, so his light figure was clad in just his shorts and his blue and white stripy t-shirt. The bruises on his arm, Daniele noticed, had almost completely gone. Giacomo didn’t seem afraid to let him see them anymore.

“Come on, then,” Giacomo reminded him, “you have to get changed too!”

Daniele hesitated. He had never felt so self-conscious about undressing in front of someone else before. He couldn’t understand how, only last summer, he had felt able to strip these same clothes off on the beach in front of Toto, Michele and Claudia without it bothering him at all.

Why, why, did I agree to this?

“I’m doing it,” he said reluctantly, and he began to take off his t-shirt. Not wanting to stare while the other boy got changed, he turned away and concentrated on his own activities.

Once he had both garments folded in his hands, he turned to pass them to Giacomo just as the other boy did the same. Giacomo didn’t seem embarrassed at all – instead, he still seemed to find the whole thing very funny. It was hard not to be swept along by the laughter in his eyes, but then, as they swapped piles of clothing, Daniele caught a glimpse of the other boy’s bare chest and stomach and he turned away hurriedly, wrestling with unfamiliar and confused feelings.

Feeling flustered, Daniele slid on the stripy t-shirt and denim shorts and found them more comfortable than he had expected, although the t-shirt was a closer fit than he was used to. The denim shirt, though, was heavier than he had imagined, and he spent some time fiddling with it, trying to get it to hang correctly with the buttons undone.

“Let’s see, then,” came Giacomo’s voice.

Daniele looked up, and then it was impossible not to laugh: the dark-eyed boy was standing there, smiling in an embarrassed sort of way in Daniele’s own pink t-shirt and pale shorts. Some of his carefully styled hair had been messed up as he changed, and the cool edge with which he usually carried himself had evaporated completely.

Giacomo crossed the room and turned Daniele round so that they stood facing the mirror, side-by-side. Giacomo gaped at their reflection.

“I feel like a piece of candyfloss,” he said morosely.

Daniele was also struck by what he had seen. He shifted his shoulders from side to side, examining the way the open shirt moved in his reflection. He wasn’t sure it was really him, but he did look… cool.

“Looking sharp, Dani,” Giacomo said.

They gave each other a sideways glance at that remark, and then the giggles returned in force.

“Give me back my clothes!” Giacomo cried, wrestling Daniele to the floor.

“No!” Daniele replied, rolling out of his reach. “They’re mine now!”

“I’ll get you for this!” Giacomo panted, crawling towards him. Daniele readied himself for a fight.

* * *

A while later, Daniele left Giacomo’s apartment, back in his own clothes and dazed with happiness. He hadn’t known it would feel this good to have the total acceptance of a friend his own age.

He almost bounced down through the Toro, heading for the leafy quiet of the Bishop’s Way so he could take the back way home. Under one arm, he held an extra item of clothing: a shapeless grey hoodie, baggier than the clothes Giacomo usually wore. The other boy had been happy to surrender it to Daniele, admitting that he had never really liked it. Daniele didn’t think he would have much use for it over the summer, but he was sure it would come in useful when the weather got cooler again, and in the meantime… the thought of having something of Giacomo’s in his own wardrobe pleased him.

Daniele knew he wouldn’t see Giacomo again until Monday, but he was prepared to wait. In the meantime, he would hold onto the memories of today like a talisman. Maybe Giacomo could use the rest of the weekend to keep his other friends on side.

As Daniele had expected, both his parents were out at work when he got home. He probably wouldn’t see them until bedtime, but he didn’t mind; he would tell them all about his day with Giacomo in the morning. For now, he settled down to work on his stories.

* * *

Monday at school passed in its usual blur. Daniele’s birthday was coming in a couple of weeks, and it would quickly be followed by the end of school for the summer. Daniele couldn’t wait: as well as the exciting prospect of inviting Giacomo to his birthday party, he had begun to visualise the long days they would spend out together during the summer holidays.

During the classes he shared with Giacomo, Daniele found himself glancing across at the other boy a little too often. Once, Giacomo caught him looking, and responded with a cheeky thumbs-up gesture that went unnoticed by the teacher.

Over breakfast on Sunday, Daniele had told his parents excitably and at some length about the day he had spent with his new friend. He had left out certain parts, such as sneaking into the Villa Cimbrone without paying, but he left them in no doubt that he had enjoyed himself and that there would be further days out to come.

When he had finished, Patrizia and Paolo had exchanged a glance, smiling in a slightly bemused fashion, and then something had passed between them that Daniele didn’t quite register.

“It sounds like a lovely day, caro,” Patrizia had said. “I’m sure we’d both like to meet this new friend of yours. Why don’t you invite him round for dinner on Tuesday?”

Tuesday was the one night of the week that both Daniele’s parents usually took off work.

“Okay, I’ll ask him,” Daniele had said and, for no particular reason that Daniele could see, Patrizia had risen from her seat, hugged him and planted a kiss on his forehead.

Now, as the end of the school day approached, Daniele psyched himself up to invite the other boy to meet his parents. Somehow, this felt like an important formalisation of their friendship. During a quick chat at breaktime, Giacomo had promised to hang out with him after school, so he was sure enough that he would have the chance.

As the final bell of the day rung out, Daniele joined the throng of pupils leaving the building. School bag slung over one shoulder, he perched on the wall next to the stairway that led down to the school gates to wait for Giacomo.

It wasn’t long before Giacomo appeared, accompanied by Emilia and Marco. Daniele watched anxiously as they approached. Was he about to be ditched?

Emilia and Marco seemed to be trying to persuade Giacomo to join them on some adventure of their own. Daniele was able to catch a snatch of their conversation as they drew near.

“Maria said you can get right down to the stream,” Emilia was saying. “Come on, Giacomo, it’ll be fun.”

“Yeah, come on, Giaco,” Marco urged. “You haven’t come exploring with us for ages.”

Giacomo drew level with Daniele and stopped. He shuffled his feet awkwardly.

“I’m going with Dani today,” he replied, his eyes fixed on the concrete floor as if he couldn’t quite manage to face his two friends. “Sorry, guys.”

This time even Emilia looked stung, and that was worse, somehow, than Marco’s now familiar glare of hatred. Her eyes raked Giacomo and Daniele uncomprehendingly.

“What’s going on with you two?” she asked desperately.

Daniele looked at them both with some despair. “I…” he began, put Giacomo silenced him with a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Dani hasn’t done anything wrong,” he told the others.

“Whatever,” Marco replied, in a resentful tone that couldn’t quite hide the deeper well of disappointment beneath it. “Come on, ’milia.”

Dejectedly, Daniele watched as they turned their backs and set off down the stairs together. Standing next to him, Giacomo also looked downcast.

“Want to come round to mine for dinner tomorrow?” Daniele asked glumly.

Giacomo looked distractedly up at him for a moment, then he smiled slightly. “Yeah,” he replied, sinking down onto the wall so they sat shoulder-to-shoulder. “That’d be cool.”