“Yes, my child?” replied the priest through clenched teeth.
“Have you swallowed a dog?”
Thomas was surprised when Falco roared with laughter.
Padre Dino excused himself and disappeared inside, where he remained for a long time.
Immacolata gave deep sigh. “Poor Padre Dino,” she said. “He works too hard.”
“And eats too much,” said Ludovico.
“It’s not a good idea to eat dog,” added Paolo. “Indigestible!” The brothers began to laugh. Falco knocked back his glass of wine with a loud gulp, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“I pity the poor soul who uses the bathroom after him,” he said, and his brothers erupted into laughter again.
“Enough!” said Immacolata and her tone was more reminiscent of the strident old woman Thomas had met in the Trattoria Fiorelli the year before. “He is a man of God. Have respect!” But nothing could stop the boys’ laughter now that they had started.
After lunch Padre Dino departed rapidly on his bicycle, though Immacolata tactfully offered him a seat in the shade where he could spend the afternoon in quiet contemplation, overlooking the sea. He disappeared unsteadily down the dusty track and Thomas and Valentina hoped that he would arrive in town safely so that he’d be fit to wed them the coming week, following the festa di Santa Benedetta.
Later, while Valentina fed Alba, Thomas took out his paper and pastels and drew them. The afternoon heat was no longer so intense and the light was soft and mellow as the day slowly died away and evening drew in. A whisper of a breeze swept up from the sea, carrying with it fresh smells from the hills and the promise of a future far away on another shore. Alba, clothed in a thin white dress, lay against her mother’s belly, sucking milk from her swollen breast. Valentina held her close and every now and then inclined her head to watch her beloved child. Her expression was gentle and full of love for the tiny being she had brought into the world. Her eyes brimmed with pride, and the sadness that Thomas had depicted in his last picture was no longer there. With her spirit bursting with optimism her beauty was all the more unearthly and she ever more remote; the pedestal upon which he had placed her was so high her head disappeared into cloud.
Thomas talked about their future. He described the house where she would live and the village over which she would preside. “They’ll love you at Beechfield,” he said, imagining the looks of admiration and envy when he introduced her to his friends and family. “I don’t think the people of Beechfield have ever seen a real Italian. They’ll think they’re all as beautiful as you. But they’ll be wrong. You’re unique.”
“Oh, I long to be far away from here,” she replied with a sigh. “It’s grown too small for me. I’m barely able to stretch my legs anymore.”
“You won’t miss your family?” he asked, drawing the line of her jaw that was surprisingly strong and angular for such a gentle face.
“I won’t miss Falco!” she laughed gaily. “Silly Falco. I wonder what will become of him. I don’t think he’s finding it easy to adjust to life after war. I think he was happier fighting his own people and hiding in bushes than eating with his family in peacetime.”
“He’s troubled. Perhaps you should try to understand him,” he suggested diplomatically, coloring in the shadow her chin cast upon her neck.
“Why should I?” she replied petulantly. “He doesn’t try to understand me.” Her expression suddenly darkened. Thomas imagined it had something to do with her argument with Falco the night before.
“He fought bravely. He fought for all the right things. There’s no shame in fighting against one’s own countrymen if it’s in aid of peace.”
“He thinks he’s better than everyone else. He thinks he has a right to interfere in my life. Well, he knows nothing about me anymore. The war changes people and it changed me too. Just because I wasn’t on the front line doesn’t mean that it passed me by. I have struggled to survive in my own way. I’m not proud of myself. But I survived and looked after Mamma as best I could. No, he knows nothing of what I’ve been through.” Her forehead crinkled as she knitted her eyebrows. “He’s been away hiding in bushes. How can he expect to waltz back in and take our father’s place as head of the family? He wasn’t around when we needed him.”
Thomas didn’t really understand what she was talking about. He felt as if he had arrived in the middle of a conversation, having missed the most important part. “Don’t worry,” he said, concentrating now on Alba’s pretty head. “Soon you’ll be far away and no one will tell you what to do anymore.”