The Mermaid Garden(31)
Her friend might have had the grand house and title, but Floriana easily led by virtue of her charisma. Not only was she pretty, with a gamine little face and wide eyes, but she was confident of her appeal and instinctively clever. She had all the best ideas for games and seemed totally fearless when the games got a little dangerous, involving the sea or cliffs.
Costanza was not so physically blessed, with heavy features and a stout body. She was afraid of heights and of drowning, and admired her friend’s courage, looking on as Floriana showed off in front of all the other children, causing them to catch their breaths as she performed heroic acts for which their mothers would most surely beat them. But she was jealous, too, that Floriana’s life was so carefree. Costanza’s mother made her study, tidy her room, and mind her manners, while Floriana had no one to tell her what to do and did as she pleased. Costanza had felt sorry for her when her mother had run off, but Floriana had thrown her pity right back in her face, puffed out her six-year-old chest, and said, “Who needs a mother anyway?” So Costanza envied her instead; she was too young to see the broken heart behind the little girl’s defenses.
“Ciao,” said Floriana cheerfully, stepping into the courtyard where lemon trees grew in pots and tomatoes flourished on the south-facing wall.
Costanza looked up from her book. “Ciao.” Then, registering her smug expression, she asked, “What have you been up to?”
“I’m in love,” Floriana replied carelessly.
“Who with?”
Floriana sat down next to her and pushed off with her toes to make the chair swing. “He’s called Dante.”
“You mean, Dante Bonfanti, who lives at Villa La Magdalena?”
“You know him?” Floriana was a little put out.
“Sort of.” Costanza screwed up her nose. The truth was she had never met him, but her parents knew his parents, so that almost counted.
“He’s just showed me around the gardens. Oh, Costanza, they’re the most beautiful gardens I’ve ever seen. They truly are.”
“They would be. They have an army of gardeners. Mamma used to have a big garden in Rome.”
“You have a lovely garden here.”
“But it’s not well looked after. We no longer have the money for such extravagances.” She didn’t quite know what that meant, but she heard her mother say it all the time, usually accompanied by a sorry sigh.
“The gardens there are very well looked after.”
“You know they’re one of the richest families in Italy?”
“Really?”
“Dante’s father, Beppe, is one of the most powerful men in the country.”
Floriana did not know how to respond to that, so she remained silent, waiting for Costanza to continue.
Costanza relished knowing more about him than her friend. “Dante is the eldest son,” she continued. Then she allowed her envy to get the better of her and added maliciously, “He’s like a prince, so he will have to marry a princess. There’s no point you falling in love with him.”
Her words were a dagger to Floriana’s heart. She put her hand there and pressed hard to stop it bleeding. Then she remembered God and the candle she had lit, and a small spark of hope ignited to relieve the pain.
“I’m not expecting to marry him,” she said breezily, adding a little chuckle to sound more convincing. She was a master at dissembling. “He says I can come as often as I like. His parents are away traveling.”
“How old is he?”
“Nearly eighteen.”
“So what does he want with a little girl of ten?”
“Nearly eleven and he doesn’t want anything. I think he felt sorry for me.”
“Like everyone else. They don’t know how strong you are.” Costanza nudged her playfully, suddenly feeling bad for having squashed her enthusiasm. “Can I come next time? I’d love to see the gardens.”
“We’ll go tomorrow. I showed him the broken wall I climb when I spy.”
“Can I spy, too?”
“Sure, if you can keep quiet.”
“I can keep quiet.”
“And not hiss at me when I jump down and snoop around?”
“I can, honestly.”
“I don’t think I’ll have to snoop. He says he’ll look out for me.”
“Shouldn’t we just ring the bell?”
“Much more fun stealing in over the wall.”
“If I say my father’s name, they’ll let us in.”
“We don’t need to do that. We’ll climb over the wall and find Dante. We’ll surprise him. He won’t mind; he’s my friend now. We’ll go tomorrow morning.”