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‘No.’Alicia had been insistent.
‘She’s told me herself,’Dante had replied.‘Many times.’
Now the son she’d never wanted stood as the priest offered prayers and sprinkled holy water. As he cleansed the coffin Alicia found her gaze drifting away, for it was here and with such indifference that Dante had said goodbye to Alicia.
They had come here, to a lone grave in the corner, the quietest part of the cemetery where there were seldom visitors. It was overhung by trees, and she had tried not to cry because her friend was leaving.
Their mood had been odd, Dante brooding and sulky, clearly wishing he wasn’t there. Alicia had insisted they meet before he left, and told him that it was right they say goodbye. She’d worn an awful checked pinafore and a top that smelt of mothballs and wished she could look nice, as the girls at the dance hall surely did.
‘We’re friends,’ she’d reminded him.
They’d sat beneath the wisteria on the bench with little left to say, and the journey ahead of him had seemed so daunting to Alicia. ‘You don’t know anyone in Rome...’
‘No.’
‘You don’t even know where your father is...’
‘Alicia, there’s no work for me here.Herfamily don’t want me around,’ he said, referring to his mother.
‘Even so...’ She’d been doing her best not to cry.
He’d taken her hand then, and it had been so long since he had, and it had felt so nice, that her fingers had coiled into his.
His skin had been hot, and she’d felt as if the sun was beating down on them, and she’d felt awkward suddenly...nervous, perhaps.
She had tried to fill the silence. ‘I wish we’d found out.’
‘Found out what?’
‘Who my parents are.’ She had turned and smiled. ‘I won’t know anything till I’m eighteen...’ That was four years away, though. ‘You’ll have to come back if you want to find out.’
‘I’m not coming back.’
‘Your mother is here...’ she’d attempted, when really she’d wanted to sayMe—I’m here, Dante, please don’t leave me too.
But they had sat there silent. He had turned and looked at her, and more than his gaze she had felt the strain that had been ever-present between them in those days.
‘Hey, maybe I’ll find out that we’re related.’ She’d turned to him and smiled. ‘You might be my brother. Then we’d be family and you could stay...’
Dante had not returned her smile. Instead he had stood. ‘I’m going.’
‘Now?’ Alicia checked. ‘But we’ve only just got here.’
‘Yes, now,’ he’d snapped.‘Ciao.’
No embrace, no kiss, no promise to keep in touch.
Gone.
The service was soon over.
No gathering afterwards, just a handshake, another air kiss and another offer of condolences and then life went on.
Of course not.
‘Come to the bar, Dante...’ one of the ladies called. ‘We can all have a drink...’
He just waved a dismissive hand, his back already turned as he walked out through the cemetery gates.
