Then one day another visitor arrived, and the air changed around the pool. Gioia Favelli was tall with short brown hair and long tanned legs, a slim waist, and wide, curvaceous hips. Her breasts were large and round, and somehow very provocative in the little black bikini she wore.
Costanza and Floriana whispered to each other in the water, giggling into their hands, until Dante put his arm around Gioia and caressed her back absentmindedly, as if they belonged to each other. Suddenly, Floriana didn’t feel like laughing anymore. Sickened in her heart, she watched furtively from the water. It became obvious that Dante and Gioia were more than just friends; they were a couple.
Floriana sulked. She couldn’t help herself. When Dante came to play with her in the pool, she swam off. When he tried to draw her into his arms at lunch, she wriggled away.
Damiana laughed at the girl’s sudden shyness, but she was perceptive enough to know the real reason. “She’s jealous,” she explained, when the girls had disappeared into the garden.
“How darling,” gushed Gioia, lighting a cigarette. “I don’t blame her; Dante is very handsome.”
“She’s little,” said Dante, feeling bad. “And she’s alone in the world.”
Damiana rolled her eyes. “There you go again! Feeling sorry for the bird with the broken wing or the unwanted dog. It’s now the unwanted child.”
“Don’t pretend you don’t want to mother her. You go all mushy when you look at her.”
“I know, she’s a special little girl. But she adores you, Dante. Don’t break her heart.”
“What can I do?” He reached across the table and took Gioia’s hand.
“Be kind,” said his sister. “And aware.”
That afternoon Dante made a special effort to give Floriana his undivided attention, and after much endeavor, she yielded and allowed him to play with her.
Costanza watched from the other side of the pool, where she sat dangling her legs in the water. She remembered her mother’s words about “above her station” and thought it was probably just as well that Gioia had turned up to burst the bubbles Floriana had been creating in the whimsical well of her imagination.
Floriana forgot about Gioia, or perhaps she believed Dante’s affection for her outweighed his affection for the stranger who had suddenly appeared in their midst. Gioia lay on her sun lounger reading a magazine, not at all interested in the activity in the water. Damiana was happy the child had been coaxed out of her sulk, but she sensed the end of the summer would bring her only unhappiness. When they returned to Milan, she would become a stray once again without anyone to take care of her.
After a while Dante tired of his game and retreated to his sun lounger to sunbathe.
“I wish the summer could go on forever,” said Floriana, following him out of the pool.
“But it can’t, piccolina. I will have to return to Milan.”
“And then to America, and goodness knows what else your father has planned for you,” added Gioia thoughtlessly. “And I shall be very sad.”
Damiana glanced at Floriana and registered her stricken face. “You’ll be back soon, though, won’t you, Dante?”
“He’d better be back. I’m not hanging around while he goes gallivanting around the world.”
“Dante,” Damiana warned, but it was too late. Floriana now understood that she wouldn’t see him again for many years and by then, who knew …?
“Why does your father have to send you so far away? Aren’t there any good universities closer to home?” Gioia continued.
Floriana walked up to the edge of the rocks and stared down at the sea below. It gently lapped the rocks, calling to her, goading her to jump. She turned to see Costanza’s face blanch, which encouraged her all the more, and she recalled those times when she had dived into the sea from great heights to scare the other schoolchildren. This was higher than anything she had ever jumped from before, but her heart was breaking, so what did it matter if she hurt herself?
Damiana managed to catch Floriana’s attention and pulled a face, but the little girl edged closer to the verge. Then, without a thought for her own safety, she leapt off in a graceful dive. One moment she was there; the next she was gone.
Dante jumped to his feet in panic. “Che cazzo fa!” he shouted, and dived in after her.
“Oh my God!” Gioia cried, rushing to the edge. “He’s going to kill himself.”
Damiana and the girls joined Gioia to stare helplessly into the water below. For a while there was nothing, just the waves and a little wisp of foam where the divers had penetrated the surface.