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The anniversary of Pietro’s death dawned bright and clear, the sun glinting across a dark blue sea. When Clara went downstairs for breakfast she found Gabriel alone at the kitchen table.
‘Where are your parents?’
‘Walking.’ Gabriel gestured towards the open patio doors, and she saw his mother and father, walking together along the beach. ‘They always do the same thing. Walk a bit in the morning, and then have lunch. In the afternoon, my mother will go to the cave and leave some flowers. My father doesn’t go, she goes with the mothers of the other four boys.’
‘Is it safe for them to go there?’
‘Yes, it’s safe. My father talked to the other families, and they decided that they wanted to open the cave up again. It’s really very beautiful, and they all felt that they wanted to have somewhere to go where they could remember their sons. So my father had it made safe and walkways put in. Lights...’
‘But you’ve never been.’
He looked up at her from his coffee. ‘No. I’ve never been.’
Clara poured herself some coffee and collected a pastry from the large plate on the counter, joining Gabriel at the table. ‘What are you going to do today?’
He hesitated. ‘I hadn’t thought about it. I’m sorry, I should be a better host...’
‘That’s not important. Take some time to do whatever you want to do. I’ll be here if you want some company.’
‘Thanks but...’ He seemed about to say something and then thought better of it. He got up from the table and refilled his coffee cup. ‘If you don’t mind, I’ve got some work to do. It’s just routine paperwork but I’d better get started.’
Routine paperwork. By definition that could have waited until another day, but Gabriel seemed intent on doing it now. Clara looked out across the beach to where his parents were walking, his mother’s dress blowing in the wind and flapping against his father’s legs. They seemed so united in their grief, but Gabriel seemed determined to be alone in his.
* * *
The house had been silent all day. Clara had taken a short walk and then retreated to her room to read the papers that Gabriel had given her, and write her report. If she couldn’t help, then the least she could do was keep out of the way. She left her bedroom door open, an invitation for him to come in if he wanted, but he stayed away.
At four o’clock she stretched her back and arms, and walked out onto the balcony. The sea breeze tugged at her hair, blowing at the cobwebs of the day, which stubbornly refused to dissipate. She could see the beach path and...
Running along the path, three small figures. The urgency in their movements made Clara lean forward, straining her eyes to see who they were. Gabriel’s mother and two other women. Something wasn’t right.
Clara turned, running down the steps from the balcony and making her way towards the path. Leo must have seen them too, because he was running from the walled garden towards his wife. They met at the top of the path.
‘Leo...’ Alessia stopped for a moment to get her breath. ‘Matilde and Giulia are still in the cave... Matilde wanted to go back, and Giulia went with her.’
This seemed to be a matter of some concern. Leo’s brow darkened. ‘Are you sure?’
One of the other woman spoke in Italian, and Alessia nodded. ‘Yes, we’re sure. They went and they haven’t returned.’
‘Can’t we go and see whether they’re all right?’ Clara turned to Leo, wondering why that hadn’t been done already.
‘The tide is in. No one can get in or out of the cave.’
‘How long for?’
‘All night.’ Alessia was in tears now. ‘Something must have happened...’
This wasn’t good. Even if both of them were all right, they couldn’t stay there all night, trapped in the place where their sons had died. On the anniversary of their deaths.
‘Is there any way we can get there? Can we go by boat?’
Leo shook his head. ‘That would be madness, no one can take a boat through those rocks. There’s the borehole, though, the one we sank to get into the cave. It hasn’t been used for many years, but it may be a way in.’
Alessia pressed her lips together. She clearly didn’t want to ask anyone to go that route, but she was desperately worried for her friends.
‘Where is it? I’ll go and find Gabriel—’
‘No!’ His father laid his hand on her arm. ‘He cannot be there, Clara. We cannot ask him to help.’
