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‘Oh.’ Alicia had never known just a graveside service before.
‘If you want to go in and pray before we start her son is in there,’ the priest offered.
‘I’ve already prayed,’ Alicia said, for she had been to the chapel attached to the school that morning. ‘Where should I put this?’ She held up the basket.
‘Leave it there.’ He pointed to a bench under a tree, but then as the hot wind caught both his robes and his words he suggested otherwise. ‘Perhaps the vestibule.’
‘Dov’è la veglia funebre?’Alicia asked where they were gathering afterwards, but the priest shook his head.
‘Signora Schininà specifically asked for things to be kept simple.’
‘I see...’
Alicia, a little bemused, took the steps up to the gorgeous baroque church. It brought tourists to the village, for the nave had survived the great earthquake and the rest of the church had been faithfully and beautifully rebuilt.
Grateful for the cool of the vestibule, Alicia placed the basket down and heard footsteps. She stood, straightened up and turned, about to step out of the shadows and greet Ragno. Except the mosaic tiles, the dome, and the delicate windows with their gorgeous stained-glass, all seemed to blur as he walked towards her.
He didn’t walktoher, though, for his eyes were fixed upwards. Perhaps it was because the coral sky through the stained-glass windows was casting a dull red glow. Or perhaps he simply didn’t notice her, standing in the dark vestibule dressed dourly in black. Maybe he didn’t recognise her, nor particularly remember her, even?
After all, he had beenextremelypopular with the girls...
Whatever the reason, he walked straight past her, and Alicia was actually relieved that she hadn’t been seen. For it was at that very second that, to Alicia, he became Dante.
Ragno had been a boy, a bit of a rebel, then later a youth who’d run wild. A lone wolf, the locals had called him...
Yet on many occasions, and fearlessly, Alicia had played with the wolf. Nothing sexual—unfortunately for Alicia. They had been just friends.
And then he’d no longer wanted even that.
He was taller than she recalled...broader too. More poised. His thick black hair that had been scruffy and long was now beautifully cut, accentuating high cheekbones and a strong jaw. He was clean-shaven and wore a very smart suit and polished black shoes, all of which Alicia took in as he walked past her.
She let out a breath as he took the stone steps and now just his scent remained. Crisp and fresh, it cut through the slightly musty air.
Dante Schininà had turned into a man.
Well, of course he had.
With a mind that was flummoxed, Alicia attempted to reason. She was eighteen now, so he must be twenty.
She hadn’t been expecting such beauty, though...
Alicia Domenica was lying.
Even to herself.
His beauty had become evident to her before he had left, and now she stood in the silent vestibule and acknowledged that her upset and tears over her appearance today were purely selfish and in regard to him.
She stared down at her pointed breasts and the endless pleats of the dress. Oh, why did they have to meet again with her looking like this?
But then she reminded herself that Dante would have far more on his mind than what she was wearing.
Alicia walked towards the small gathering, where he stood tense and a little apart, making not a single attempt at small talk.
She left it to the priest to announce her arrival. ‘Ah, here she is.’
‘Alicia.’ Dante nodded without really looking at her. ‘Thank you for coming.’
‘Of course,’ she said.‘Le mie condoglianze...’
