The Mermaid Garden(39)

“Isn’t she glamorous?” Costanza hissed. “Did you see how skinny she is? And her bikini is tiny. She shows everything!”

“She’s like an angel,” Floriana replied, hooking her straps over her shoulders.

“She’s nice.”

“I don’t think a person could be anything but nice, living in a place like this.”

“You’re right. You couldn’t be unhappy here, could you?”

“Never.”

“Are you going to swim straightaway?”

“Of course,” Floriana enthused. “I’m boiling.”

Costanza shivered nervously. “Okay, I will if you will.”

They came out of the hut with their drinks, where Damiana was waiting for them with a drink of her own. She had been chatting to Graziella, who was very surprised that the young woman had deigned to speak to her at all, and was blushing with pleasure beneath her brown skin. “Right, girls, let me introduce you to my friends. You already know my silly brother, so I won’t introduce you to him.” They followed her around to the sun loungers, where an attendant in white shorts and polo shirt was putting out two more, draping towels over the mattresses and extra ones for swimming neatly folded on the ends. Floriana noticed everything, and her spirit swelled with happiness.

The other three girls looked up from their magazines and smiled. Damiana introduced them as Maria, Rosaria, and Allegra. They were all pretty, with slim figures and flawless skin, but none was as lovely as their hostess, who, together with her brother, seemed to shine with a superior gloss.

“Well, are you going to come in?” asked Dante from the water. “It’s lovely in here.” Floriana didn’t need to be persuaded. She placed her drink on the little white table next to her lounger and tossed her towel onto the floor. With a big leap she jumped straight into the water. Costanza held back timidly.

“That’s the little stray, l’orfanella,” she heard Damiana say to her friends as Floriana swam over to Dante.

“Poverina!” Allegra sighed compassionately.

“Terrible not to have a mother,” said Maria.

“Better to have a dead mother than a mother who doesn’t want you,” added Rosaria, lighting a cigarette.

“Dante’s rescued her,” said Damiana. “He’s like that. If there’s a wounded dog within a ten-kilometer radius, he’ll find it, bring it home, and look after it. He can sense a bird with a broken wing at a hundred paces!”

“And this one?” whispered Allegra, nodding at Costanza who was pretending not to listen.

“She’s the daughter of Contessa Aldorisio.”

“Very aristocratic,” said Rosaria, impressed.

“The count employs the little stray’s father as chauffeur.”

“How sweet of Costanza to gather her up,” said Allegra approvingly. “That’s beyond the call of duty.”

At this, Costanza felt very proud. She held her nose and jumped into the water, pleased that they all knew she was not a simple working-class girl like Floriana, but one of them. As she swam over to her friend she smiled happily to herself, it was right that she was there. As for Floriana, she was very lucky.





9.


The day was such a success that Damiana invited the girls back the following day. She telephoned the countess, who nearly wept with joy at the thought of her daughter being embraced by one of the wealthiest families in Italy, and sent Graziella again to accompany them. Without her parents around Damiana enjoyed playing hostess. They ate lunch on the terrace, cooked by the chef according to her instructions, drank fine wine from her father’s cellar, and smoked.

Floriana was full of stories and made them laugh until their bellies ached. She made fun of her father and Signora Bruno, standing up and imitating them in a brutal satire. Humor was the only way she could deal with the misery her father caused, and the fact that everyone laughed made him somehow more acceptable.

Costanza sat quietly, seemingly content to give her friend center stage. Good-Night lay at Floriana’s feet, quietly eating the scraps she secretly fed him under the table. Dante noticed but said nothing. After lunch the two young guests disappeared into the olive grove to play with Michelangelo. Once they were out of earshot, the group discussed them, agreeing that it cost them nothing to allow the children to play in the grounds and swim in the pool. They wondered what sort of mother could run off and leave a daughter as adorable as Floriana. They couldn’t understand why she hadn’t taken her with her. Damiana had grown fond of her in such a short time. She had stolen her heart in the same way that she had stolen Dante’s, and she was eager to take the little stray under her wing.