Fathers and daughters, said Cress, as if reading Ulysses’ thoughts. There’s just so much— So much what, Cress? said Ulysses.
Help me, Pete.
Help you with what?
A word. A word that describes the awkwardness between fathers and daughters.
Pete thought. Awkward’s good, Cress.
Yeah, but it’s not the word, is it, Pete?
Reticence? said Massimo.
Reticence is better. But it’s not the word.
She just doesn’t want you to know things about her, said Pete. There’s a delight in privacy. That’s adolescence for you. So much to work out.
Yeah, but it’s not a word, is it, Pete? said Cress.
A delight in privacy? said Ulysses.
I don’t think I ever had that, said Massimo.
She’s also afraid she’ll let you down, said Pete. What with Peg’s crap an’ all.
Don’t forget I’m still after the right word, said Cress, but Cressy’s word was never found, and the men separated by the stone bench. Cress waited for Paola, and Massimo headed to his office to make a telephone call to Phil, who was still in the States. Firecrackers exploded and heckled the night.
Ulysses said, What d’you say to an early night, Pete?
Thought you’d never ask, Temps.
The front door closed behind them. The tread of their footsteps, a weary heft in the stairwell.
I really like that jacket, by the way, said Ulysses.
This old thing, Temps? I got it in Warsaw.
A face peered out from the doorway to their left and looked them up and down. Happy new year, said the elderly contessa, who had never really been that elderly, just plain grumpy.
You too, contessa, they said.
And Alys? Her night ended where it had started. In the same dank doorway but with Romy’s thumb in her mouth. She could taste the salt from the crisps they’d recently eaten. Could feel the rough edge of a fingernail. Suck me, said Romy and Alys did and they pushed in close as the carabinieri drove past. Alys looked at her watch. Time had been given generously to her and she said she had to go. They separated down by the river. One went north, the other south.
At 2 a.m., she entered the palazzo and closed the door softly on the world. She slipped off her shoes, careful not to wake Cressy whose bedroom door was ajar. On the way to the kitchen, a light in the living room drew her in.
You didn’t have to wait up for me, she said.
I did, said Ulysses, looking up from a book. And I always will.
Even when I’m twenty?
Yep.
Fifty?
Always.
She laughed. You’re hopeless.
You look so happy, he said.
I might go to bed.
OK.
When she got to the door, she said, What did you say?
I said you could never disappoint me, Alys. I’m proud of every inch of you. Every minuscule part of your being. Of your thoughts and your joy and your rage. The way you sing and navigate your way in this often godforsaken— I love a girl.
（PAUSE.）
Lucky girl, I say —world.
They looked at one another and the distance halved. Ulysses said, A new year, Alys. I hope it’s worthy of you.
Night, Uly.
Night, kid.
January rolled slow and revolution took a back seat. Sleet blew in from the hills and the air turned sharp with a frigid nip. The clouds stayed low and spirits dropped. Blood oranges were a staple after every meal and Alys skipped school to keep Romy warm. Cress learnt how to make gnocchi – simple, really, he said: potatoes and flour and a nimble use of the fingers. Pete came down with a dose of the morose after Ulysses had asked him again to come and live with them. Pete stayed in his room for a whole day and Claude waited outside, working his way through a bag of sunflower seeds. Ulysses began a trace for a new set of gores. A 50cm-diameter globe, his most ambitious yet. And on 8 January at four in the afternoon, the phone rang. He picked up and there was the operator. Sì, sì, he said. Another pause and— Peg? Is that you?
He put down his coffee and shook out a fag.
Temps? I didn’t expect to get through.
（PAUSE.）
1960, Peg! Where you been?
Yeah, yeah. Cress OK?
Having the time of his life.
Peg lit a cigarette. Alys?
In love.
Oh fuck, Tempy. That’s the worst fucking news you could’ve given me—
Peg, go easy—
Don’t let her get fucking knocked up, please—
She won’t.
How d’ya know?
I know.
Don’t go all na?ve on me, now. We all reckoned we—
Peg. Stoppit. It’s a girl. （PAUSE.） She’s in love with a girl.
Peg began to laugh. That’s the best fucking news I’ve heard in years.