I’m eight, said the kid, pushing back her fringe. Who’d have believed it? And she told Peg that she’d got a guitar from Ulysses and Cress, a diving mask from Massimo, and Signora Giulia had made her cannoli. She’s from Sicily, she said. All in all, a good haul. Kid covered the receiver and turned to Ulysses. Peg said she’s sent me money. Kid looked delighted.
Ulysses heard Peg sing ‘Happy Birthday’ and he left the room to give the kid privacy but really it was because it broke his fucking heart. He waited in the hallway till the kid called his name.
Peg wants to speak to you, she said, giving him the receiver. Kid went outside with the young woman to learn how to make an espresso.
I’m sorry, he said.
About what? said Peg.
Remember us?
If that’s the worst of you, Temps, I got off lightly.
Work OK? he said.
Ted wants me to give it up.
You won’t, will you?
Wants me to marry him.
Don’t, he said.
What? Work or marriage?
Just don’t, Peg, and Ulysses lit a cigarette.
Alys sounds happy.
She is. Come see for yourself. She tell you about the pensione?
What the fuck’s a pensione?
He laughed. A small hotel.
You got that many rooms?
Daft, right? Here, Peg, you got a pen? Take this number down … It’s a café. You can always leave a message … You got it?
Got it.
Here, what happened with Ginny?
Didn’t you read the letter, Temps?
We came straight here. Didn’t read anything.
I told Mrs Kaur about her and Devy.
You did?
Had to. But I trust her. She reminds me of your mum. She’s so kind and calm and treats Ginny like family. It’s really sweet the way she is with them. The boy is, too. I’ll tell Col when he’s ready to listen.
We love you, Peg.
What’s that?
I said—
You still there, Temps? Temps?
When September arrived, it brought cooler nights and the long goodbye of the swallows. Ulysses disappeared too, just for the day. This was something he would do year after year and eventually Cress and the kid stopped asking where he went. Kid and Cress made a coloured lantern and joined the procession for the Festa della Rificolona, the celebration of the birth of the Virgin Mary. Kid said, You can’t be a virgin and give birth, can you, Cress? And Cress said, No you can’t. Just checking I wasn’t missing anything, said the kid. In the Tuscan vineyards the grape harvest began, and in the bakeries appeared the traditional sweet flatbread schiacciata all’uva. Restaurants, previously closed for August, reopened with new menus heavy on the porcini.
And, finally, as much as the kid tried to evade all mention of it, September brought school.
The night before, she was nervous and didn’t want to go to bed. She found Cressy on the terrace sitting with his tree.
What you doing, Cress?
Talking with this little fella.
Kid sat next to him and listened.
Doesn’t say much, does it?
It’s all going on in the roots, he said. Roots tell stuff to other trees.
Like what?
Like where to find water. Where to get a good cup of coffee.
Kid tutted.
They warn each other, too, said Cress.
About what?
Life. Problems. Dangers. They’re a bit like us: social. They feel neglect and pain.
Do I have roots?
Strong ones. So, you ready for school tomorrow?
What if I don’t make friends?
You’ve got us, said Cress. And Massimo. That’s three. And Giulia. And Claude. There you go, you’ve got an orchard.
Cress reached for his beer.
Can I have a sip? she said.
Sure, he said because he knew she hated it.
Look out there, said Cress. The solar system. Formed 4.6 billion years ago. And here are we. With a combined age of seventy-seven. How young we are! And the earth spins at a thousand miles an hour and turns on its axis once every twenty-four. This is what we’re governed by, Alys. Space, time and motion. Hours, days, seasons. Our lives segmented into a series of moments. You see over there, that faint patch of light? That’s the Andromeda Nebula. When we look at it, we’re looking back 900,000 years into the past.
Big numbers, Cress.
They are big numbers, my love. That’s why ten years of school will go by in no time.
I see what you did there, she said.
I thought you might.
Eight, said kid. No more than eight.
All right, said Cress. No more than eight, and he pretended to spit on his hand, and they shook.
Morning came with low clouds and cool air and kid wore the dark smock that all the kids wore, with its oversized collar and bow, and she said she looked like a clown. You do, said Ulysses. In the square she said goodbye to Cress and Giulia, and climbed onto the crossbar of Ulysses’ bike. There’s still time to change your mind, you know, she said. Yeah, yeah, he said, and pedalled with the traffic heading west to San Frediano. No veering in and out of barrows or motorbikes this time, and he kept a safe distance behind the trams. They passed the tripe seller and the swallows on washing lines waiting to depart. Bye, birds! See you next year! shouted the kid.