The Mermaid Garden (47 page)

“Anything. I’ll do anything for Floriana.”

“There is a convent not far from here where she can go for the dura-

tion of her confinement. I have known the Mother Superior for many

years and it is not uncommon for her to take in girls like Floriana.”

There followed a heavy pause, and Dante knew what he was going

to ask, for the question hovered in the air between them like a bright

red balloon.

“Do you intend to marry her?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged helplessly and dropped his head. “I’ve

dreamed of marrying her. I thought I’d wait until she was old enough

and then . . .” His voice trailed off. “Love blinded me to the reality of my situation. My father would never accept her as his daughter-in-law.

I’d have to give up
everything
.” He choked on his words for he was well aware that sacrifice was the way of the Lord. “Father, I am weak!”

Father Ascanio drew on all his strength. He wanted to shake the boy

and berate him for having ruined the girl’s life. “But you will support her financially?” he asked with forced calmness.

“Of course. I will look after her and our child. She will live like a

princess.” His words sounded hollow, and he wished he hadn’t said

them. “I will wait until I am rich enough in my own right, and then

I will marry her.”

“So, you must tell Floriana what you have decided, and she must

make ready to leave as soon as I have arranged it with the Mother Su-

perior.”

“I will.”

“She must not tell a soul.”

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“She has told only Signora Bruno.”

“Teresa is a good, discreet woman. You can count on her to keep it

to herself.”

“I’m humbled, Father, and deeply in your debt.”

“There are no debts to repay, Dante, only amends. Go and look after

Floriana, and love her very dearly. You are responsible for her predicament and for her future. It is human to transgress, but you can raise

yourself up by doing your duty before God—repent, pray for forgive-

ness, and put it right.”

“I will, Father.”

“Now go.”

Dante left the little chapel and strode over the flagstones towards

the door. He did not notice the sacristan who kneeled in prayer in the

chapel next door. The alcohol seeped through his pores and evaporated

into the air to mingle with the smell of burning wax.

As Dante’s footsteps grew faint, he raised his head and narrowed

his eyes. So, Floriana was pregnant.
That
was a surprise. Out of all the secrets he had overheard during the many years he had worked in the

Church, this was by far the most shocking. But he was a man of dis-

cretion. He prided himself in keeping secrets. He fished behind the

confessional, in the cracks between walls and doors, and picked up little pieces of information, then saw how deeply he could store them away.

So far, he had never let a fish slip out. The trouble was, this fish was the biggest and most slippery fish he’d ever caught.

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27.

Floriana knocked on Signora Bruno’s door. The smell of frying on-

ions seeped out and under her nose, causing her stomach to churn

with nausea. She wondered how long the sickness would last. Putting a

hand on her belly, she silently told her child that she would suffer whatever nature threw at her in order for him to be born healthy and strong.

The door opened, and Signora Bruno’s anxious face peered out. “Ah,

Floriana. What news?” she asked, pulling the girl in by her skirt. “Have you spoken to Father Ascanio? What did he say?”

“I have spoken to him,” Floriana lied. Well, she had,
indirectly
.

“Well?”

“I’m going to a convent.”

“That’s the best thing for you. Thank God.”

“It’s called Santa Maria degli Angeli. Padre Ascanio will arrange it

for me.”

“I told you he would know what to do.”

“I am happy. I will give thanks to God every day for the gift of my

child.”

Signora Bruno sucked in her cheeks. “When do you leave?”

“As soon as he has organized it.”

“Who will take you?”

“Dante.”

“Dante knows?”

“Of course. It’s his child, too. Once the baby is born he will buy us

a place to live, and one day, when he’s independent of his father, we

will marry. God will forgive us for having a child out of wedlock—and

anyway, it is His gift, so He can’t be cross.” She smiled excitedly. “I’m so happy, Signora Bruno.”

The old woman frowned. How was it possible to feel happiness in

her situation, her future being so uncertain? She didn’t believe for a

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Santa Montefiore

minute that Dante would ever marry her; that kind of happy ending

did not happen for girls like Floriana. She chewed on the inside of her cheek thoughtfully. “Well, that’s as much as we can hope for.”

“I’m going to be a mother.” Floriana sighed dreamily and flopped

into a soft chair. “It’s a boy, I just know it. A beautiful little boy. I talk to him all the time.”

“I doubt he has ears to hear you.”

“He hears me with his soul.” Floriana’s smile was peaceful, as if she

wanted for nothing. Signora Bruno couldn’t help but admire her opti-

mism, and fear the moment life would disappoint her and snuff it out

forever.

“Are you hungry?”

“No, I’m living off air and thriving.”

“You look skinny.”

“I feel sick in my stomach but well in my heart.”

“You’ll harm the baby if you don’t get something down you. Come

on, I’ve made soup.”

Reluctantly, Floriana followed her into the kitchen. The smell of on-

ions was overpowering. “I don’t think I can eat anything. Perhaps a

cracker. Do you have a cracker?”

“And some cheese.”

“Just a cracker.”

“I’ll butter it.”

Floriana grinned at her fondly. “You’re acting like a mother.”

Signora Bruno scowled to hide her emotion. “You need a mother.”

“How lucky then that I have you.”

“I don’t suppose you’re going to tell Elio?”

“Of course not. One day he’ll wake up and find me gone.”

“You really feel nothing?”

“Nothing.” Floriana turned away and picked up a piece of onion

peel. “He’s no father to me.”

“Perhaps being a grandfather will set him on the straight and

narrow.”

“No, it won’t. Nothing will. He’s well and truly lost. No wonder my

mother left him. Sometimes I think she must have hated me very much

to leave me at his mercy.”

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Signora Bruno was horrified. “You don’t believe that?”

Floriana shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. They’re all losers because

they’ll never know the precious little child that I am going to bring into the world. I need nothing, Signora Bruno, nothing and no one, because

I’ll have my son. I’ll never be alone again.”

Signora Bruno found her bravado heartbreaking.

Dante remained in Milan, confident that his child would be born in

secrecy. He no longer felt that clawing fear in his stomach because the burden had been lifted and arrangements had been made. His father

wouldn’t find out. Floriana would be safe and cared for. They could

continue their relationship in a new town where no one knew them. As

for the future, he didn’t have to think about it yet. For the time being things were fine. However, in the quiet moments before he fell asleep at night and when he awoke in the morning, he shuddered at the thought

of how close he had come to ruin.

Floriana’s pregnancy was a delicate issue, and Father Ascanio didn’t

want to speak to the Mother Superior on the telephone. He arranged

to go and see her instead.

As he drove through the Tuscan countryside he mulled over the un-

fortunate situation. Floriana would give birth within the safe walls of Santa Maria degli Angeli, then Dante would whisk her away to some

far-off town, to start a new life where she knew no one. Of all the

people in his parish, Floriana was the least well equipped psychologi-

cally to cope with that sort of change. He feared for her, all alone with a small child and no daily support. Perhaps Dante would arrange for

help, but still, she’d be emotionally close to no one.

He wrestled with anger when he thought of Dante’s foolishness.

One moment of pleasure and he had potentially destroyed a young

girl’s life. Of course, Floriana wouldn’t see it that way. She loved him and trusted that he would look after her and possibly even marry her

one day. But Father Ascanio was old and wise, and had instantly recog-

nized the weakness in the boy’s demeanor, having seen it so many times

before in others. The way he hadn’t been able to look him in the eye, the way his shoulders had slumped in defeat—and Father Ascanio
knew

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Santa Montefiore

the boy. He had watched him grow up beneath the forceful authority

of his father. To break that kind of influence took a will of fire and a courage of steel, neither of which Dante possessed, for all his charm

and geniality.

He arrived at the imposing gates of the convent and hesitated before

getting out and ringing the bell. Once Floriana walked through these

gates he might never see her again. His heart contracted, and he was

stunned by the sudden rush of emotion. Only now that he was on the

point of losing her did he realize how deeply he cared.

Floriana telephoned Dante often from the public telephone in Luigi’s.

They couldn’t speak for long, but Dante’s voice was enough to reassure

her. In her free time she’d wander up to La Magdalena and find Good-

Night. Together they’d walk through the fields, and she’d tell him of

the future she was going to have with Dante. They’d sit on the beach as the water gently lapped the rocks, and she’d sing to her unborn child,

and the dog that had grown to love her above all others.

Father Severo took another swig from the bottle he had hidden be-

neath a floorboard in his bedroom. Many times he had told himself

that this swig would be his last. He knew that if he was caught, Father Ascanio would throw him out, being a man of the highest principles.

But he was unable to stop, and Father Ascanio’s poor sense of smell

enabled Father Severo to continue undetected.

Tonight Father Ascanio was out. He had disappeared in his car that

afternoon and hadn’t come back. Father Severo wondered whether the

outing had anything to do with Floriana. He felt the slippery fish of

his secret and relished the pleasure it gave him, knowing something

that he shouldn’t, not having weakened and told anyone. His discretion

gave him a buzz.

He took another swig. It was a beautiful evening. The light was mel-

low, the air warm and autumnal. The sounds of children playing echoed

off the ancient stone walls and made him think of his own isolated

childhood and the boys who refused to play with him because they

sensed that he was different. He decided to go for a walk and get some

air. He considered Father Ascanio as he weaved slowly up the narrow

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street towards the piazza. How he admired him. But he could never

rise to such heights, being the inadequate man that he was. He knew

his failings and was content living in the shadow of a great man of

God, giving his life to the service of others, hoping to redeem himself through his work. He repressed the sexual feelings he had for other

men and prayed daily to be cured. But the pain persisted, and only the

alcohol helped stifle it.

At the end of the street he saw a man crouched on a doorstep, head

in hands. He recognized him instantly.

“Elio,” he said as he approached. “Are you all right?” The man looked

up at him, and the suffering on his face yanked the sacristan out of his internal world with a jolt.

“Father, help me.”

The sacristan sat beside him. The stench of alcohol seeping from

Elio’s pores was pungent. “How can I help you?”

“I have lost my wife and son, and now I am losing my daughter, too.”

“What do you mean, your daughter?”

“She doesn’t care for me. I have let her down. I should be working

to support her, but here I am, a slave to alcohol. I have hit the bottom, Father, and I don’t know how to lift myself up. I want to take care

of her, but she won’t speak to me anymore. I know that one day she

will leave me, like her mother did, and I’ll die alone like a common

tramp.”

“Elio, you have taken the first step to recovery. By acknowledging

that you have a problem, you have already moved towards resolving it.”

“I won’t drink ever again.”

“That takes a very strong will,” Father Severo said, thinking of his

own weakness and once again vowing to overcome it.

“So, what am I to do?”

“You need something to live for, a goal that will keep you from the

bottle and inspire you to get back to work and live a clean life.” He