The policeman blew his nose. Where we headed? he said.
We?
The policeman nodded.
Piazza Mino. Fiesole, said Cress.
Follow me, said the policeman.
When Cress entered the square, Alys thought the police escort a bit much, but from then on events happened fast. She got up from the pavement and ran towards Cress, and the policeman stumbled out of his car and ran towards her. Told her about his first love, Giulietta, and for a while it became all about him. Unburdened, he drove off with a wave and Ciao, Cressy!
Cressy gave Alys his handkerchief and said, You’re safe now, my love. But we have to go and get Romy, you know that. We need to tell her about her dad.
I’m not talking to her, said Alys, clambering into the sidecar. You don’t have to, said Cress and Claude said, The course of true love never did run smooth. Shut up, Claude, said Alys.
Romy was awake when Cressy knocked. He explained what had happened to her father and she said, Guess that’s the end of the book then. The world won’t weep.
Romy drove close to the Moto Guzzi and Cress dropped her at the Ospedale Santa Maria Nuova where her mother was waiting. Romy waved but Alys didn’t. I don’t know what I ever saw in her, said Alys.
Whatever she had or hadn’t seen in Romy Peller, Alys still managed to cry for hours in her room. Midnight. One o’clock. Two. The clock ticked over and just when Cress and Ulysses thought the tears had ceased, a fresh tidal surge carried her out to an ocean of despair. Ulysses went in with a bowl of brodo di pollo and Alys asked if she could just have a small glass of wine to go with it. No, he said. Cress went in later with a hot chocolate and Alys asked if she could have a cigarette to go with it. No, said Cress. Alys eventually fell asleep fully clothed and Cress covered her with blankets.
Ulysses watched her sleep. He tried to stifle the rise of emotion, but it got the better of him and he turned away. It’s just relief, that’s all, he said. I know, I know, said Cress. But they both knew it was something more. Together they saw the sunrise that morning. There was no tiredness left in them as the day drew colour. On the terrace Ulysses said, I couldn’t have done any of this without you, Cress.
It was one of those moments I was made for, he said.
No, Cress, I mean any of this – and he gestured to his surroundings – and any of Alys.
Cress didn’t know what to say. All that love again. Paola came out on her terrace and waved to him. He waved to her.
I’ll make the coffee today, said Ulysses. And dinner. You go brighten someone else’s life.
Repercussions there had to be, and they came fast. The pensione took away any free time from the kid; afternoons and evenings were spent washing-up, or cleaning rooms or stripping beds.
Romy came by the pensione a week later when she knew Alys was at school.
Can you give her this letter please, Mr Temper?
Sure, said Ulysses. And Romy? How’s your father doing?
Good, I suppose, considering. We’ll be leaving as soon as he gets used to the industrial brace. It’s tricky on a plane, apparently.
Alys read the letter that night.
It was tender and eloquent, but mostly it was a letter of thanks. That’s what surprised Alys. The things Romy had remembered. Alys brilliant at billiards in the Gambrinus basement. The pet shop behind Palazzo Vecchio, the plan to buy the songbirds and set them free. Alys’s comments about the statue of David – that it was a statue of character first and foremost, and not of ideal physical proportion, not like the Donatello. I have the sketch you did on the paper serviette, she wrote. I’ll keep it because I think it will be worth something one day.
I don’t know why you left in the night, wrote Romy. I don’t blame you. I’m sure it was something to do with me. On a good note, my parents are getting a divorce. I might go and live on a commune. So long, Alys. And Romy signed off with love.
Romy and her parents left for the States a day or two after the letter was delivered.
Cress said to Ulysses, I don’t think that’s the last we’ll hear of Romy Peller and Ulysses said, Oh Jesus, Cress, don’t say that, I’m bloody exhausted.
I know son, I know.
Summer arrived in a fanfare of heat. Tourists sweltered and the pensione was busting its guts. The photo of Eddie that Alys had lost was found in Claude’s cage next to the mirror. Ulysses thought Eddie was good-looking, but Claude said he’s not so hot. Des’s moulds arrived and Ulysses began work on the larger globes. Alys went to London and when she came back, all she said about Peg was that she seemed smaller. Col was happy to have Peg, Alys and Ginny back under one roof again. He’d been under a bit of stress lately since the area including the pub had been placed under a compulsory purchase order. The council want to demolish it to make room for a new estate. Even Nichols Square, wrote Col. Col’s new lady friend Ingrid had a pug called Lesley and Col didn’t see it when he reverse-parked and all hell had broken loose. Ingrid said it wasn’t something she could ever get over, so she left. Col didn’t mind being single again, not now he had his women back. Col loved having Peg around. All that scorn, all the derision. Peg loved being around Col too, truth be told – not that she would have said so. Pete had an unexpected stroke of luck when he got a part in a new West End musical called Oliver! Pete said it was based on a novel by Charles Dickens and Col said, It’ll never catch on. Pete brought the musical score into the pub and that was the night Ted turned up. Sat by the door with a pint he never drank and watched Peg come and go. Like the bleedin’ Stasi, said Pete. No one saw Ted leave, of course. Later, Peg sang ‘As Long As He Needs Me’ and there wasn’t a dry eye in the house. Usually, Peg held the booze reins tight whenever Alys was around, but that night she unravelled. Full on goad mode, with nothing and no one off limits. Said to Alys, Loosen up, kid, and find yourself a boy. Alys went to bed ashamed that night. But of herself and not of Peg.