“We don’t want a scandal,” Zazzetta agreed.
“I am perplexed that my son should be so very stupid.”
“He is young and in love.”
“His brain is in his cock. If he wasn’t my son, I’d slice it off.”
“If he wasn’t your son, you wouldn’t care.”
“But he is my son, so, what do we do, my friend?” Beppe shrugged and exhaled a cloud of smoke.
“We deal with it, Capo.”
“Yes, we deal with it in the simplest way. We pay the old scoundrel to shut up, and we get rid of the problem.” He fixed Zazzetta with the cold eyes of a man who has ordered the efficient removal of enemies many times before. “We make her disappear.”
“Do we have to take such drastic measures? She is a young girl—”
“Make it look like an accident.”
“But, Capo—”
“It is the only way, or we’ll have the father sucking our blood for the rest of his life. This is not the last time he’ll come asking for money. I don’t want this hanging over us, nor over Dante, the fool. The problem has to go away, full stop. There is only one way to be sure that it won’t come back to haunt us again and again.” He turned to look out of the window. “I wonder whether the old soak will consider it was worth it when he realizes his golden goose is gone forever.”
“Won’t he try to find her?”
“A man who is capable of selling his daughter in this way has no heart. You know as well as I do that Elio is a drunk, hopeless idiot. He’ll take the money and run—and hopefully we’ll never hear from him again.”
“Consider it done, Capo.”
“Good.” He turned back to Zazzetta. “And not a word to my son. Perhaps we can pay someone to say that she ran off with a tomato seller.”
As Floriana left the church she spotted Costanza crossing the square, weighed down with shopping bags. The girls stared at each other warily. It had been awkward between them for so long now. Instead of hurrying on, Floriana waved. Her heart was so full of happiness as she hovered on the brink of her new life that there was no room for bitterness. “Do you want a hand?” she asked, smiling. Costanza looked at her anxiously. “You don’t have to worry; your mother’s nowhere in sight.”
“It’s not like that, really it isn’t,” Costanza protested, but Floriana shook her head dismissively and briskly relieved her of one of the bags.
“What have you got in here?”
“I’m sorry, it’s really heavy.”
Floriana peered inside. “Fruit?”
“Mamma has put me on a diet.” Costanza shrugged. “I’m not sure it’s working, though.” She gave a pathetic smile.
Overcome with nostalgia for the way things used to be, Floriana suggested they go down to the beach. “We can sit and chat like old times.”
“I don’t know. I should be getting home.”
“Please.”
“Well, maybe quickly. If you don’t mind carrying that bag.”
“I’m stronger than I look.”
“Okay then. I’ll come, but not for long or I’ll get into trouble.”
They set off along the road that led out of town. “So, your mother is really determined to marry you off, isn’t she?”
“She’s scheming and plotting.”
“In the end you’ll marry who you want to marry, and that’ll be that.”
“No, I’ll marry who she wants me to marry. I know that’s my fate. I don’t have the strength or the courage to go against her will.”
“You have time to grow strong.”
“I’m her only child. She has pinned all her hopes on me.”
“Are you still going to move back to Rome?”
“Papà’s going to become an industrialist,” Costanza declared proudly.
“An industrialist?”
“Yes, we might move to Milan.”
“Milan?” Floriana thought of Dante, and her stomach lurched.
“I only pick up bits and pieces. No one tells me anything. They still think I’m too young to understand. Or too stupid. Anyway, I think he’s going to do something for Beppe Bonfanti. Consultancy work, I imagine. He’s very well connected in the one area that Beppe isn’t.”
“It all boils down to class,” said Floriana quietly.
“Yes, I’m afraid it does.”
They sat on the sand, two girls who had once shared so much, and gazed out across the ocean. “I’m leaving, too,” said Floriana.
Costanza was astonished. “Where are you going?”
“I don’t know. I need to start afresh somewhere new.”