Costanza’s heart froze. She was too afraid to get out of the pool. Floriana was courageous but also reckless. What if she had gone too far this time and killed them both? She squeezed her eyes shut and wished she were at home with her mother.
Floriana let the water wrap her in its cool, silent embrace. For a second the pain in her heart was quelled by the surge of adrenaline that set it racing. She could hear it thumping behind her rib cage and felt relief that she was no longer beside the pool, having it stabbed with unkind words. Then she felt a hand grab her arm and wrench her out of her watery refuge.
With a loud whoosh they both exploded through the surface, taking in great gulps of air.
“You stupid child!” Dante yelled when he had caught his breath. “Don’t you have any sense of self-preservation?”
Floriana stared back at him in horror. His entire face was contorted with fright.
“My God, you could have died, you silly girl! Don’t you realize there are rocks beneath the surface that you can’t see? If you had hit your head, you’d have been killed instantly. Is that what you want?”
She shook her head, big eyes gazing at him in astonishment. She had expected his admiration, not his fury. He swam angrily to a place in the rocks where it was safe to climb out, and she followed slowly, wishing she could disappear to the bottom of the sea and never come up again.
“She’s okay,” he shouted up to his sister, who retreated from the edge with relief.
“What an idiotic child, showing off like that,” said Gioia furiously. “She could have led Dante to his death.”
“I don’t think she meant to do it,” Damiana defended her. “She didn’t know.”
Dante and Floriana dragged themselves onto the rocks and sat side by side.
“I’m sorry,” Floriana said in a small voice. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“You frightened me more than I’ve ever been frightened in my entire life.” He shook off his rage with a brisk toss of his head and put his arm around her. His face softened into a forgiving smile. “Promise me you’ll never do anything like that again.”
“I promise,” Floriana replied. Her chin began to tremble. She felt her heart revive, like a punctured tire filling again with air, and she began to cry.
“Don’t cry, piccolina.” But her shoulders shuddered, and she let out a violent sob. “Come on, my little friend, I’m sorry I shouted at you. I was scared, that’s all. I thought you were dead.”
Floriana couldn’t stop herself. She rarely let herself cry, but now her usual tools of defense failed to work. She stuck out her chest and raised her chin, but her emotion was too strong for such clumsy fortification. It wasn’t his fury that made her cry, but his concern. She had forgotten what it felt like to be valued.
After that, the summer no longer felt like it was going to last forever. Every moment of pleasure with Dante was paid for with a sharp sense of loss, as if a little less sand remained in the hourglass to warn Floriana that time was running out. She no longer existed in a limbo of endless summer, for a cloud of gloom hung over the horizon to remind her of its transience, edging its way a little further inland each day, eating up those blissful summer days until the rain came at last to sweep him back to Milan.
“You’ll look after Good-Night for me, won’t you?” he asked of her as he said good-bye.
“I shan’t come into your garden if you’re not here,” she replied, struggling to control her sorrow.
He swept her into his arms and squeezed her. “But you’ll spy from the wall, won’t you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Of course you will.”
“When will you come back?”
“Soon,” he replied, but he couldn’t be sure.
“I’ll miss you every day.”
“No you won’t. You’ll forget about me as soon as I’ve gone.” He put her down. “Be good now. No more diving off rocks. Promise?”
“Promise.” He grinned, and Floriana smiled back weakly. Inside, she felt as if her heart were filling with cold concrete.
Damiana tried to reassure her by promising that she would be back soon with Giovanna, who was very keen to meet them. Then she hugged the little orfanella and found a lump had formed in her throat, preventing her from saying anything else.
Costanza felt the warmth of their good-byes but knew it wasn’t meant for her. She was just Floriana’s companion—and Floriana had become a sister to them.
The two girls walked slowly back to the town in the rain. They barely said a word to each other, so heavy was Floriana’s heart and so full of envy was Costanza’s. Finally, as they reached the fork in the road, Costanza asked Floriana if she wanted to come back to her house to play, but Floriana shook her head. She wanted to run down to the beach and cry her sorrow into the sea. So Costanza hurried home, to the warmth of her hearth and her mother’s embrace, while Floriana wandered down the path to the lonely, cold beach.