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‘To study what?’
‘Law!’ Alicia responded, because he’d said his friend was doing the same, or maybe because it was the cleverest thing she could think of. ‘She writes to me all the time...’
‘That’s good.’
‘We’re thinking of getting a flat together.’
‘So you’ll see your twin soon.’
He had always called them that, and played along with Alicia’s games. ‘I hope so.’ At least that part was true. ‘So you’re still in Rome?’
‘Yep.’ He did not elaborate, just squinted at the blowing sand. ‘I’d forgotten how hot it was here.’
‘Get used to it,’ Alicia said. ‘It will last for days. We’ll all be crazy by the time it’s done.’
‘I told you—I’m going tonight.’
‘Will you ever come back?’ Alicia asked, trying to dim the needy note of hope in her voice.
‘No.’ He was blunt. ‘I hate the place. I have no good memories of here.’
That hurt, and Alicia could not hide the fact that it did. ‘Thanks a lot.’
‘What?’ He was obviously too cross with the world to navigate her emotions. Today, if anything, he seemed determined to deliberately trip them. ‘We just used to swim and play stupid games...’
She flinched.
‘Go,’ he said. ‘Seriously, Alicia, just go. You didn’t deserve that.’
‘So you do have some good memories of our time here?’ she nudged. ‘Tell me.’
‘You’re so damnedneedy.’ He gave a half-laugh. ‘Yes,’ he conceded, ‘there are some good memories.’
Dante kicked off his shoes and peeled off his socks, just as Alicia ached to do with her tights. He stood up and she looked at his long feet and toes, and was jealous of their freedom. It was so hot that the leaves seemed to be drying above them as the heat intensified.
He took his jacket off, speaking as he did so. ‘I had no sleep last night,’ he admitted, ‘or the nights before...’ He paused as a box of condoms fell from his pocket and her eyes followed his to them.
‘I can see why!’ she retorted smartly.
‘Alicia—’ he started as she reached out and picked them up. The condoms must be Gino’s. ‘Leave them.’
‘I want to look.’ She took out the foil-wrapped packages and he watched her count all four of them, then look at the number twelve on the box. ‘You have a far more interesting life than me...’
Dante didn’t. Well, he did and he didn’t.
Dante’s reputation in the village had all been lies, and it would seem his name was misused frequently. And, although he could easily have pulled any girl, the simple truth was that he loathed kissing and detested physical contact. Being raised in a whorehouse had turned him off even the thought of it.
He had grown up knowing way too much, and yet had been taught nothing at all. Aside from holding Alicia’s hand, he’d never really known touch. Together they’d explored the world—or at least the rocks and the river and the logs. And then at some point people had questioned that, the nicest part of his life.
No, he had said, they were just friends.
Alicia too had vehemently defended their friendship—to Beatrice, to her teachers, to the nuns. There was nothing like that between them.
Then his own body had proved him a liar.
So he’d seen her less, pulled back, but he’d known he must go.
He recalled with detail the moment he had dropped Alicia’s hand. They had been walking through the rushes on their trampled path as they so often did.
