“When you have children of your own, you’ll understand.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Aldo
October 1938
Bar GiroSport was busy, and Aldo manned the coffee machine at the counter with their older barmaid, Letizia. His father worked in the outside seating area, taking care of customers and shooing away the accordion player and photographer who tried to make money from the tourists. Marco was serving a table of pretty nurses, and Aldo looked on, amused. Marco had always been naturally at ease with women, and Aldo often wished that he had his little brother’s charm, but it was unique to him. Aldo loved him too much to be envious.
“Due caffè ristretti,” Letizia said, meaning two coffees, short and dense, and Aldo picked up a cup and turned the lever on the tall Victoria Arduino coffee machine, with its gleaming eagle on top.
He brewed the coffee, his thoughts straying where they always did—to the danger presented by the anti-Fascists’ plans. Spada’s retirement party was getting closer, and Aldo was getting more terrified for Marco. To his growing horror, the anti-Fascists rehearsed the attack at every meeting, pretending that sticks were guns, since he hadn’t been dispatched to Orvieto yet. Every morning and night, he prayed to God for guidance, but none had come.
Aldo handed the coffee to Letizia and started brewing another cup, completely preoccupied. He had still been unsuccessful in persuading Marco to quit his job, but had been thinking of an alternative plan. It sounded crazy, but he was considering giving Marco tainted pork on the day of the retirement party, rendering him too sick to go. The only problem was that Marco had an iron stomach, so it would require a lot to get him sick, and Aldo didn’t want his little brother to end up in the hospital across the street. Anyway Marco would go to the party unless he was truly, deathly ill because he couldn’t wait to celebrate Spada’s departure.
Aldo handed Letizia the second coffee, glancing outside. His gaze happened to fall on the blond hair of a woman taking a seat at one of the tables in their outside seating area. He recognized her. It was Silvia, Uno’s wife.
Aldo looked down, hiding his face. His heart began to pound. Silvia had no idea that he worked here. If she saw him, she would learn his true identity.
“One coffee, senza schiuma,” Letizia said, meaning a coffee without the top of foam.
Aldo had to get out of sight. “Letizia, can you cover for me? I have to go to the bathroom.”
“Sure,” Letizia answered, and Aldo left the counter and was about to hurry into the back, when he realized that he was too late. Silvia had gotten up and was talking with his father, probably asking him where the bathroom was. In the next moment, Silvia entered the bar, making a bella figura in a nice blue dress that clung to her lithe form.
Aldo’s mouth went dry. He couldn’t let her see him. Meanwhile the sight of her turned Marco’s head, for his brother never missed a pretty girl. Aldo didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t let Marco start talking to her. Knowing his little brother, he’d bring up his fascio job to impress her, and all would be lost.
Aldo froze. Silvia was walking toward him and Marco. He couldn’t avoid her. If he went left or right, she would see him move. He turned his head away as if he were talking to some customers. Out of the corner of his eye, he was aghast to see Silvia looking right at him, and she slowed her step.
Aldo looked over and met her eye, caught. Silvia gazed directly back at him. Strangely, her expression registered no surprise, then she nodded as if sending him a signal. She made her way to the back of the bar and into the narrow hallway, where the stockroom and restrooms were located. Luckily Marco looked away, summoned by a customer.
Aldo followed Silvia, his mind racing. He turned into the hallway, and Silvia was waiting for him.
“I need to talk to you,” she said under her breath.
“Okay, in the stockroom.” Aldo showed her inside the tiny room under the stairwell, which was lined with groceries. He closed the door quickly and turned on the light. “Silvia, what are you doing here?”
“Uno sent me to see you, Aldo.”
Aldo felt shocked. “How do you know my name? Or that I work here?”
“Uno found out because we needed to talk to you. It’s urgent.”
Aldo recoiled. “But how did he find out?”
“He has ways.”
Aldo masked his alarm. “I thought our identities were secret. I thought we trusted each other. We shouldn’t spy on each other.”
“I agree with you, but you don’t understand the risks Uno takes. That’s why I came instead of him.” Silvia’s forehead creased. “Trust me, he has good reasons for how he operates. I won’t hide anything more from you, so I’ll tell you, he knows that your father is a Fascist of the First Hour.”