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Falling asleep with no one to wishbuona notte.
And no one to offer abuongiornoto in the morning. Of course, as she constantly reminded herself, even if she and Beatrice had kept in touch they would hardly be sharing a room at the age of twenty-eight.
But even if they would have been past sharing a room, in Alicia’s fantasy world they might have shared an apartment. Or even caught up for lunch once a week.
Hell, she’d have been happy with even just a phone call now and then, to catch up on Beatrice’s no doubt glittering career. Or they would drink cocktails and sigh in exasperation over Alicia’s disastrous attempts at dating.
And then she would not feel so alone with her secrets and her shame for all that had happened since Beatrice had left Trebordi—the forbidden touching in the river, the making love in the hut nearby. There had been no shame at the time, but the heartbreak and heartache and scandal that had followed had nearly broken her.
A heartache so deep she had left the island she loved, left her life.
‘Alicia...’Reverend’s Mother expression had been bewildered when she’d told her of her decision.‘I thought this was everything you ever wanted?’
She hadn’t understood it herself.
‘So did I. Can I say goodbye to him, please?’
Alicia screwed her eyes closed. Even now she dared not be alone when she examined that time.
And shewasalone. For despite tears, and promises to write every week, and the hope of being together someday, Alicia had received just two cards from Beatrice since she’d left Trebordi.
Trebordi.
Three jagged cliff-edges that disappeared into the Mediterranean Sea. She felt as if she stood there alone now, on the sheer drop.
No more.
Today was the day that things might finally start happening, after so many futile attempts to find Beatrice. This morning, if God and fate were on her side, Alicia would come face to face with Dante again.
She had long ago stopped thinking of him with the childhood nickname of Ragno.
She had never allowed her mind to linger for too long on the memory of Dante, or the forbidden fruit she had tasted but once.
So forbidden.
And so far from sweet!
The once beautiful memory of them had been so besmirched and tainted that Alicia refused to think of that time.
Or at least she did all she could not to.
Today might be the day she faced him.
Alicia showered quickly, pulled on underwear and a pretty loose dress and sandals. Her clothes were still second-hand, but at least she chose them herself, and she loved going to the markets and vintage stores.
She left her tiny, very dingy studio apartment, and quietly made her way down the many stairs to the street.
It was a fifteen-minute walk to work, and still a good hour until sunrise when the Duomo came into view. After almost a decade here, the sight of Milan’s cathedral still brought a pause to her stride. It was so magnificent and imposing, yet so delicate, too. As if the most amazing pastry chef had piped intricate details onto the vast structure.
‘Help me,’ Alicia whispered into the silence as she paused. ‘Please.’
She needed all the help she could get. This seemingly ‘chance encounter’ had actually been two years in the making and had already been thwarted a couple of times.
Alicia looked over to the luxurious hotel where she worked and up to the top floor, where presumably he slept.
Alicia had no idea how a poor boy from Trebordi had made it to the penthouse. Nor how the lone wolf that Dante had been could have changed so much. For he partied hard and moved with the rich set now.
What shedidknow was that Dante Schininà was now a man of great means.
