One Summer in Rome by Samantha Tonge

Author:Samantha Tonge [Tonge, Samantha]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollinsPublishers
Published: 2018-03-21T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

Sunday night, late the next day, Mary sat alone by the Moor Fountain.

‘Everything okay, bella?’ said Gabriel, in Italian. He sat down next to her and tucked dyed greying curls behind his ear. The other artists were packing away. A guitarist strummed in front of Pizzeria Dolce Vita. The Rossi family had all gone to bed. Dante still hadn’t returned. And after reading the newspaper yesterday, she now understood why.

Mary sighed and looked over at Rocco who was in his cycling helmet, ready to go home. He crouched down outside the restaurant and fed scraps to his feline friend.

‘You are upset? By a couple of newspapers?’ Gabriel lit a cigarette. ‘No worries. They will have something new to gossip about in a few days.’

Mary gazed at him. Wondered how much he knew. More than the journalists who’d written that article? Less? He caught her stare.

‘You have many questions, no?’ He jerked his head towards Rocco and blew out smoke. ‘He is the man to ask – good at Italian and English. And he was closest to the family when it all happened. Hey, Rocco!’ he called. Gabriel stood up. ‘I’ve got to go now. My hands and back are aching from a busy day.’ He bent down and kissed her on each cheek before having a quick word with Rocco who’d come over. The head waiter sat down beside her. The little dog followed and collapsed at his feet. Whistling, Gabriel packed away his easels and left.

‘Seems like you have a loyal friend there,’ Mary said, returning to English, too tired to think about grammar and vocabulary.

Rocco’s mouth drooped at the corners. ‘Loyalty sometimes comes at a cost.’

She gazed at his deep nose-to-mouth lines. ‘Sorry if I was a bit slow today, it’s just trade was so busy and—’

Rocco held up his hand, took off his cycling helmet, and placed it on the ground, next to the dog. ‘I suspect you didn’t get much sleep last night.’

She raised an eyebrow.

‘When you got back, I noticed the newspaper sticking out of your bag. And you’ve hardly said a word today.’

Mary gazed at the ground and then looked up. With frustration, she rubbed her short hair. ‘I didn’t know, Rocco. About the shooting. Why didn’t anyone say?’

‘It still feels so … recent – the fallout from that night. It went on for months. All that on top of Dante losing his sight.’

‘I don’t know whether to ask him about it … if he ever returns.’ Her chest pinched. Not having Dante in her life any more would be like drinking Prosecco without the fizz.

‘He’ll be back. Tomorrow probably. Monday is usually a quieter day, despite all the July tourists.’ He stared at her straight in the eyes. ‘I will tell you what I know, about the incident. Dante probably won’t want to talk about it himself. Plus there is personal stuff that happened afterwards. It is not my place to—’

‘Of course. I understand.’

Rocco rubbed a hand across his forehead. The dog looked up with concern and Rocco tickled its ears.

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