At last, her body jerked as it expelled water from her lungs. She gasped and inhaled a gulp of air, opened her eyes and stared at him in bewilderment. Luca mumbled a few words of encouragement. He needed to get her somewhere warm. Hastily, he covered her with his jacket and lifted her into his arms. He struggled to hold on to her wet body, limp as she drifted in and out of consciousness. Gritting his teeth with determination, he set off towards the square. He looked around for the little boy, but he must have gone to the piazza to get help. Luca could hear the music from the party and the cheerful voices of the locals as they compensated for the disappointment of the ceremony.
He held Cosima against him, trying to keep her warm; her breath encouraged him to stagger on. Finally, he reached the square. ‘Somebody help!’ he cried. People turned, their faces registering horror as he walked towards them bearing one of their own, wet and lifeless. The music stopped, the dancing ceased, the crowd flocked around him like a herd of curious cattle. People crossed themselves as he passed, believing her dead.
Alba rushed forward. ‘Cosima!’ she cried as Luca laid her gently on the ground. ‘Is she . . . ?’
‘She’s alive,’ Luca replied, catching his breath. ‘But she was trying to drown herself.’
‘Oh my God! Panfilo!’ she shouted. Panfilo was right beside her, taking off his jacket to place across the girl. ‘I should have known this would happen,’ Alba moaned.
‘We have to get her home, quickly,’ said Panfilo, taking control. ‘To the car!’ He lifted her up in his strong arms and waded through the throng that parted reverently.
Alba turned to Luca. ‘You saved her life. How did you know?’
‘The little boy.’
‘What little boy?’
‘You didn’t see the little boy in the church, screaming for help?’
‘No.’
‘I presumed he was her son.’
She stared at him for a long moment then touched his arm. ‘Cosima has no son. Francesco died three years ago. Drowned. He was six years old.’
11
Luca watched Alba disappear through the crowd. He was bewildered. The little boy followed Cosima everywhere. How come Alba hadn’t heard him screaming for help? The whole church must have heard. He searched for Ma and Caradoc while the townspeople stared at him as if he were an alien.
‘There you are!’ Ma emerged from the sea of faces. ‘What on earth is going on? You’re soaking wet!’
‘You’re a hero, young man,’ said Caradoc.
‘You look like you need a strong drink,’ added Ma. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Did you see the little boy?’
‘Which one?’
‘The child with Cosima, screaming for help.’
Ma stared at him blankly.
The professor chuckled. ‘I think you need a hot bath and a hot toddy.’
‘Wait!’ Luca felt light-headed. ‘Are you telling me that you didn’t see the little boy come into the church and shout for help?’ They shook their heads, looking at him askance. ‘You didn’t see him chase after the woman leaving the church in a hurry? Come on! You must have seen him?’ He turned to the professor. ‘Am I going mad? A little boy told me to save his mother. So I ran down to the sea and found her wading out, determined to drown herself. I swam after her and rescued her. I did not do that on my own. How could I have known if the little boy hadn’t told me?’
‘This is most baffling,’ said Caradoc, leaning on his stick. ‘But I’m afraid the only one who saw the little boy was you.’
‘I thought he was Cosima’s son,’ he said in a thin voice. ‘Maybe she’s not a widow, after all.’
As they went back down to the quay to retrieve Luca’s shoes and find the car, Rosa appeared, flustered and close to tears. ‘Luca,’ she cried, stopping him in his tracks.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said as she began to cry.
‘She’s alive. That’s all that matters. I want to thank you. You saved her life.’
‘Why does she want to commit suicide?’
‘I feel so bad. I’ve been so unkind. I didn’t realise how unhappy she is. I didn’t believe her. I thought she was just wanting attention.’ Rosa took a deep breath. ‘Her son, Francesco, was drowned three years ago. She blames herself, because she was with him. One minute he was beside her and the next he was in the sea. Cosima can’t swim. There was nothing she could do. She’s never got over it.’
‘Where’s her husband?’
‘She’s never married.’ She shuddered. ‘We’re all she has.’