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The Mermaid Garden(36)

By:Santa Montefiore


“So, you’re the Lone Spy, are you?” He turned to Floriana.

“I don’t think anyone loves your garden more than I do.”

“I think you’re right about that.”

“Can we go into the colonnaded garden again? I’d love to show Costanza.”

“Sure we can.”

At that moment Good-Night trotted out of the trees. Costanza squealed with fear as the dog came rushing excitedly towards them.

“Good-Night!” exclaimed Floriana, bending down to greet her friend with open arms.

“Don’t be frightened, Costanza,” said Dante, placing a protective hand on her shoulder. “He’s very friendly.” Costanza watched as the dog fell into Floriana’s embrace, nearly knocking her over.

“Isn’t he adorable! Look, he’s licking me again!”

“Don’t you like animals?” Dante asked Costanza.

“No,” she replied.

“I love them,” Floriana gushed. “I wish I had a dog. A companion who is always by my side and loves me without question. I’d like that.”

“You can borrow Good-Night whenever you like,” said Dante, finding her delight infectious. “Come on, let’s go and sit in Mother’s garden.”

He put his hands in his pockets and strode off in the direction of the house. Good-Night sensed something moving in the bushes, pricked up his ears, and stiffened his tail, then bounded over to have a look. Floriana smiled at her friend, as if to say, “Didn’t I tell you he was handsome?” and Costanza smiled back nervously, feeling better now they had been properly introduced.

They walked through the gardens, marveling at the marble statues and hedges cut into perfect spheres. A few gardeners worked in the borders, watering before the sun got too hot, and weeding, tossing the offending plants into wheelbarrows. When they saw Dante, they stopped what they were doing and took off their hats, nodding respectfully. Floriana noticed and felt proud to be walking beside such an important man.

Dante smiled indulgently as the two girls chatted away excitedly. Costanza forgot her nervousness and let Floriana show her everything, as if the place already belonged to her. When they reached the mermaid garden, she sat down and announced that this was her favorite spot because she could hear the birds in the trees and the water trickling in the fountain and feel the sun on her face.

“This is heaven,” she stated simply, leaning back and closing her eyes. “A place as beautiful as this must be where God lives, mustn’t it? When He’s not in church.”

Dante laughed and joined her on the bench. “Perhaps church is where He works, like going into the office, and here is where He comes to get away from all those people making impossible requests.”

“My requests aren’t impossible,” Floriana said. “I would never put Him under pressure.”

“What do you ask for, piccolina?”

She smiled secretively. “I can’t tell you. If I do, I’ll have to kill you.”

“Well, you had better not tell me, then.”

“She asks for her mother to come back,” volunteered Costanza, feeling more confident now and a little jealous that he had just called Floriana “little one,” as if he had known her a long time and was fond of her. She sat on one of the other benches.

“Where’s your mother?”

“She ran off with a man she met at the market,” said Floriana carelessly. Seeing as she was going to marry Dante, he might as well know everything about her.

“I’m sorry.”

“So am I. I used to wish she had taken me with her, but I wouldn’t be sitting here now in this lovely place if she had.”

He looked at her curiously. “You’d rather be here than with your mother?”

“Of course. I don’t imagine my mother has a garden like this. She might have a vine—after all, the man she ran off with sold tomatoes.” She laughed as if nothing mattered.

“So, you live with your father?”

“He’s my father’s driver,” Costanza added grandly.

“He’s useless,” said Floriana.

Dante frowned as she suddenly looked disheartened. “Come, I’ve got something I want to show you.” He stood up. “A surprise.”

Floriana shrugged off the thought of her father, and smiled again. “I love surprises,” she beamed.

The girls followed him through the gate in the wall, out into the ornamental garden, where stone steps swept up to the house in a graceful curve. A man in a green overall was raking the gravel, his head shielded from the sun by a white hat. Another watered the formal borders with a hose. A gray cat lay asleep on the balustrade, and Floriana skipped over to stroke it. “Is this yours?”