Thomas listened as Valentina’s soft singing could be heard outside. The strong scent of figs now preceded her and Thomas felt his head swim with the pleasure of it. He knew before he set eyes on her. He felt it. Nothing stirred except the silken breeze that slipped in through the door, a prelude to something magical. And then she was there, in a white dress that turned semitransparent with the sun behind it. With a suspended heart he took in her small waist, the gentle curve of her hips, the feminine shape of her legs and ankles, her feet in simple sandals. Her beauty was even more breathtaking than it had been when he had disembarked. He barely dared blink in case she disappeared again. But she was smiling and extending her hand. The sensation of his skin against hers sharpened his senses, and he heard himself stammer in Italian, “È un piacere.” Her smile, though slight, was full of confidence and knowing, as if she were used to men losing their tongues as well as their hearts in her presence. Immacolata’s voice broke the spell and suddenly the room was moving once again at the normal pace and Thomas was left wondering if he was the only one who had noticed the change.
“Valentina will show you the river where you can bathe,” Immacolata said, bustling over to the chest of drawers upon which stood a framed photograph of a man, surrounded by small burning candles and a worn black Bible. Thomas presumed the man was her late husband. She pulled out a small object wrapped in brown paper and handed it to her daughter before closing the drawer. “Even in times of war one must be civilized,” she said gravely, indicating with a nod that they go down to the river. It must be the famous soap, thought Thomas.
Valentina turned and walked out of the house. Thomas noticed that she had an unusual walk: her feet turning outward, she held her stomach in, pushed her bottom out, and swung her hips. It was a lively walk, unique, and Thomas thought it the most charming walk he had ever seen. He wished he were alone with her and not with Jack, who seemed as awestruck as he. Both men followed her down a steep path that was only wide enough to walk in single file.
The air was hot and sticky and full of mosquitoes. The scent of figs lingered, yet Thomas couldn’t see one fig tree, only eucalyptus, lemons, pines, and cypresses. The hillside rang with crickets, their rhythmic, incessant chattering loud to those unfamiliar with it. The path was well trodden, the earth pale and dry and scattered with stones and small pine needles and cones. Every now and then wooden steps had been built into it to prevent slipping. Finally, Thomas saw the river through the trees. It was more of a stream than a river, but wide enough to swim in. It trickled down the hill, bubbling around rocks and smooth stones, resting for a while in a limpid pool before flowing out to sea. It was there that they were to bathe.
Valentina turned and smiled. This time her smile was wide and full of humor. “Mamma must think very highly of you,” she said. “She doesn’t give her precious soap away to just anyone.” Thomas was shocked that her mother allowed her to walk alone with two strange men. She must indeed think very highly of them. Valentina held out the little parcel. “Take it and enjoy it. Make it last.” Thomas took it, once again irritated that Jack was standing by, about to spoil the moment with a bad joke, no doubt.
“Will you join us?” Jack asked, grinning mischievously.
Valentina blushed and shook her head. “I will leave you to bathe in private,” she replied gracefully.
“Don’t go!” Thomas gasped, aware that he sounded desperate. He cleared his throat. “Wait until we’re in, then stay and talk to us. We know nothing of Incantellaria. Perhaps you can tell us a little about it.”
“I used to sit and watch my brothers,” she said, pointing to the bank that lay in a large sun trap. “They splashed so much.”
“Then sit there for us,” Thomas insisted.
“We haven’t had the company of a woman for a long time. Certainly not one so lovely to look at,” Jack added, used to charming the girls. Under normal circumstances Thomas would have stood aside and let him woo her with his irreverent wit and raffish charm. After all, it was Jack to whom the girls were always drawn, not him. But this time, he had no intention of letting him dominate.
“Mamma wouldn’t like to think of me alone in the company of bathing men.”
“We are British officers,” said Thomas, trying his best to look the part by standing tall and nodding his head formally. It was what Freddie would have done. “You are in very safe hands, signorina.”
She smiled coyly and walked over to sit on the bank, averting her face while they undressed. When she heard their splashes she turned around.