Friday loomed and Rocco had said not a single word more about the supposed murder. Mary didn’t press. She couldn’t jeopardise their newly formed truce. But ever since he’d mentioned the best friend, Mary’s mind had wandered into dark corners. Had Dante really killed someone? Was it self-defence? An accident? Why wasn’t he in jail?
‘Maria, Maria, bella, bella …’ squealed a high-pitched voice. Mary had just eaten the most delicious triangle of cold pizza, something she occasionally treated herself to, at breakfast. Wood-fire ovens gave the dough a crunchy, charcoaled texture that beautifully contrasted with the succulent mushrooms and ham on top. And being chilled in the fridge seemed to enhance the subtle flavours of herbs. Having washed the generous slice down with a glass of fresh orange juice, she was just about to pour herself a coffee.
Black curls hurtled in her direction and before Mary knew it, Lucia was sitting on her lap. She gave a sideways glance and Mary chuckled to herself, already knowing the little girl well enough to realise this was an admission of guilt. Lucia curled her fist tightly and Mary tapped it with an index finger. What could she be hiding?
Lucia grinned and released her fingers, which unfurled to reveal …
‘My rose quartz tumble stone!’
‘Bella, bella!’
Yes. It was pretty with its delicate shades of pink.
‘What is it for?’ asked Lucia.
‘It makes the heart better, if it is ill,’ said Mary, carefully articulating every Italian word.
‘Is your heart ill?’
‘Of course not,’ she said in an ultra cheery voice.
Lucia’s wide eyes examined every inch of Mary’s face. She wrapped her arms around Mary and squeezed tight. ‘It will be okay,’ she mumbled. ‘My hamster died when I was three. I cried for days. But now I just remember the good. Like his cute nose. And his fat cheeks when he stuffed them with food.’
Mary squeezed tight and then, reluctantly, pushed her away.
‘Go on,’ she said, gently, still in Italian. ‘Put back my crystal and then clean your teeth. I’m taking you to school club today. Remember your mamma has gone out early to check out a new meat market.’
An hour later, Mary returned from the school gates, humming, having enjoyed a stroll through the sun. She’d just stopped for a chat with Gabriel who once again begged to paint her. He was eating a croissant, in front of his easel, and drinking a flask of coffee. Buskers had already set up and several African street traders were already trying to sell selfie sticks and jewellery. On the way out, Gabriel had called Lucia over, winked at Mary, and passed the little girl a boiled sweet. It was hard to describe just what a thrill it gave Mary to walk, hand in hand with Lucia. What a privilege. A simple act that meant so much.
She headed towards the kitchen hatch and noticed a dirty napkin on the floor. As she bent over, her sunglasses fell from the top of her head, onto the tiles.
‘Don’t forget today’s dance lesson!’ said Dante, in his adorable accent. ‘It is at half past five again. We should leave at half past four.’
Mary straightened up. ‘I must stop wearing this lavender perfume. You track me as if I’m a dog.’ She looked shyly at him. Would he reciprocate her humour?
A smile crossed his face. ‘That wouldn’t change anything. I’d still recognise your light steps and you just dropped something, right? Clumsy, clumsy.’
A small glow lit up inside her. At least they had some sort of friendship now. It had gone from nought to zero and was now settling in a better place than before that kiss. So, really, she thought, the situation between them wasn’t all bad – right?
Alfonso bustled past, having just got back from the meat market with Natale who was wearing one of her cheerful floral dresses. He and his daughter exchanged glances before he spoke.
‘You two leave extra early,’ he said. ‘Say, at three. Have a caffè together. We can manage. And don’t hurry back. We can manage until eight when the piazza really starts to liven up.’
‘But it’s Friday!’ Mary exclaimed and heat pooled into her cheeks. He and Natale must have noticed a slight atmosphere between her and Dante.
‘Enzo can manage, in between the lunch and dinnertime rush,’ he said and ran a hand over his bald head.
‘Can I, indeed?’ called the indignant chef from the back of the kitchen.
‘You do as you’re told,’ shouted Alfonso, in Italian, and winked at Mary.
Enzo’s reply remained best untranslated and everyone laughed.
‘Guess we could,’ Mary said and glanced at Dante, still feeling hurt and not wanting to. Yet wanting to oh so much. What a mess.
‘I’m glad you agreed,’ he said, that afternoon, as they sat in a bar, not far from the dance class, Oro resting by his feet. ‘We need to clear the sky.’
‘Air, you mean.’
‘Whatever. I feel things have been weird between us. After that … boring, really unenjoyable kiss.’
Mary looked up from her frothy cappuccino. ‘Honestly. It’s already forgotten. Totalmente unmemorable, it was. An insane reaction simply brought on by the trauma of being mugged.’ She cleared her throat. ‘Talking of which,’ she said, determined to change the subject, to protect her sense of pride, ‘I meant to ask – did you get Silvestro into rehab or had he left, by the time you got to the refuge?’
‘No. He was still there. Now he is in treatment. Let’s hope he gets better. There are all sorts of treatments available now. Some even holistic. Talking of which …’
He held out his hand and without thinking, Mary slipped hers into his.
‘Um, thank you, Mary, but that is not what I wanted. Lucia told me about your stones. She says you always carry one about. Can I feel it?’
His face – now endearing to her – broke into another smile. Mary longed to be at the mercy of those tender hands as they read her, like a book he’d be sorry to finish.
She reached into the back pocket of her shorts and took out a five-centimetre, narrow rod of crystal. Mary slipped it into his hand and tried hard not to touch his fingers. Perspective. That’s what she needed. One kiss didn’t amount to much – certainly not a long-term relationship. She took a large gulp of her cappuccino. Dante examined the stone. ‘A crystal needle? It feels very light. What colour is it?’
‘As white as you can imagine. It’s called selenite. It gives you energy – thought I might need that for the waltz,’ she added with a nervous laugh, and waited for his reaction.
Dante sat quietly for a moment and then handed it back.
‘When she got in from school club, just before we left, Lucia said that you had a pink one this morning. You told her it helped hearts and that yours was sick.’
How to get out of this? Mary wished that the waiter would distract them or that Dante’s phone would ring.
‘Mary? Sorry. Am I being too personal? It’s just … Wednesday night …’
‘Don’t flatter yourself!’ she said, glad he couldn’t see her blushes. ‘I … broke up with my boyfriend, before I came here. That’s all. He went to Dubai. It’s … it’s taking me a while to recover.’
‘You still care for him?’
‘No! I mean … well, you know, it just takes a while to get over the break-up of a relationship,’ she said, hoping he wouldn’t realise her dejection had nothing to do with Jake and everything to do with him.
Lines appeared between his eyebrows. ‘Si. These things take time. Lots of time,’ he murmured. ‘And why do you believe in crystals?’
Mary stared into her empty cup and wished the spell could be broken – the spell that made her long to show every fibre of his being just how much she cared.
‘Everyone needs something to believe in, right?’
Dante shrugged. ‘Not me. I make my own way in life.’
‘But what about when you were younger?’
He thought for a moment. ‘Guess I had a mamma and papà who believed in me – I think that creates all the self-worth any child needs. It gave me faith in my abilities and … ah. So … your upbringing … without parents … does that explain it?’
Her vision blurred. In one sentence Dante had exactly pinpointed why teenage Mary had turned to healing crystals.
‘Crystals were always reliable,’ she mumbled. ‘They listened. Provided an answer. Gave me hope. They endured. Not much else was constant when I was younger.’ She shrugged. ‘But that’s life. We each have our story. It’s part of my past now.
‘Come on,’ she said and drained her cup. ‘It’s time to go. We need all the help we can get to win this competition.’ She stood up. ‘Pull yourself together, for goodness’ sake, Mary,’ she mumbled to herself and headed for the door. But every move, every touch during the dance class just made his sexual distance more unbearable. What got her through was the smiles shot at her from Rocco. And Paola who made her laugh, with her comical eye rolls when her brother made a mistake – usually followed by her giving him the sweetest of hugs.
By the end of the hour of sentimental music – of trying to deal with the close proximity to Dante and the envy she felt at Rocco’s sibling relationship, it was all too much. Wishing she’d brought out the rose quartz instead of selenite, Mary made her excuses. Said she needed to rush off to the underground station right by the Coliseum, as she’d researched online and there was a new crystal shop, not far from it.
‘Let me keep you company,’ said Dante.
‘That would be great, but I’ve really got to hurry and—’ Her voice sounded thick.
Dante put up a hand. ‘No worries. You’re right. Practically speaking, with the rush-hour crowds, I wouldn’t be able to match your speed.’
In any case, Cheyenne came over and wanted his advice as something had gone wrong with her burglar alarm. By the time Mary reached the stairs, tears gushed over her cheeks. She stumbled down to the ground floor and outside, past the disused launderette. Gratefully she lifted her face to the sky as the occasional welcome raindrop fell. Mary gathered herself. Quickly she wiped her face as footsteps sounded behind her and she stepped forwards to leave. But an arm gently grabbed hers and she turned around, heart beating – surely not another mugger?
‘Everything okay? Your face … when you left …’ Rocco raised one eyebrow before looking at the greying sky.
Mary gulped. ‘I must look a right mess. What must you think? It’s … this rain.’
‘Life can get messy sometimes, no? We can feel alone. As if no one understands.’
Mary shook her head. ‘I don’t get it … how quickly you’ve changed towards me.’
Perhaps plain speaking had worked. Maybe Brenda could have done with hearing Mary’s thoughts more often.
Rocco’s thin face flushed. ‘I have my faults, Maria, but admitting when I’m wrong isn’t one of them. I’m having a difficult time personally, at the moment, and I realise that over the last few months that has made me view everything negatively. You are good for the family and …’ He pulled a face. ‘Our customers love the biscuits and mini pizzas.’
Mary gave a small smile. ‘Was that so difficult to say?’
He smiled back. Not a grin. But then Rocco never belly-laughed or seemed really relaxed.
‘Thanks, Rocco. I’m okay. Just one of those days.’ He turned to go but Mary couldn’t fight a sudden urge to hug him. She leant forward and briefly squeezed him tight. He groaned. Mary jumped back.
‘Gosh. Sorry, I must be stronger than I thought.’
‘No. Not your fault. I’ve hurt my shoulder.’ He shrugged. ‘Comes with the job, carrying too many trays.’ And with that he left her standing alone. Mary thought of her rose quartz crystal, the stone of love and friendship. Things with Rocco were looking up. Now she just needed to get over her attraction to Dante.
After a swig of bottled water, she headed into the underground. Just before she’d gone down the steps her phone had rung and Dante sent several texts. But she didn’t answer or open the messages. Right at that moment she just wanted to get away.
Five stops later, she reached Colosseo. The train doors opened. It was towards the end of the rush hour and bodies bustled together. Mary glanced at her watch. It was seven o’clock. What a foolish idea this had been. She’d have to hurry to reach the restaurant by eight. She followed the herd but as she stepped on the platform was struck by the silence as everyone listened to the intercom.
Mary strained her ears to understand. Passengers were being told to stay where they were, due to a security alert.