She shut the window and ran into Daniela in the hallway. “Did anyone come to the house?”
“I don’t know, Mamma. I’ve been in my room studying the whole time.”
Raffaella decided to let it slide. It was pointless to insist with Daniela.
She went into Babi’s bedroom and looked around. Everything seemed fine. There was nothing strange or out of place. Even the bedcovers were perfectly tucked. But the bed could easily have been tidied and remade. And so, with no one there to see her do it, she laid her hand atop the covers. They were cool. No one had been lying on them.
She heaved a sigh of relief and went into her bedroom. She took off her skirt suit and hung it neatly on a hanger. Then she got out an angora sweater and a soft skirt. She sat down on the bed and put them on. Blithely unaware, relaxed, unable to even imagine that right there, inches away, her daughter had been lying, just minutes before on that blanket still warm with young and innocent excitement. With her arms around that boy that Raffaella couldn’t stand.
Later, Claudio came home. He had a long discussion with Babi on the subject of the forged excuse, the ten million lire he’d had to lay out, and her behavior in the past several days. Then he sat down in front of the television set, his mind finally at ease, waiting for dinner to be ready. But just as he got comfortable, Raffaella called his name from the kitchen.
Claudio immediately went to answer his wife’s summons. “Now what?”
“Look at this…” Raffaella pointed at the kitchen sink.
There stood the two empty beer cans that Step had drank.
“Well, it’s beer, so what?”
“It was hidden in the trash can, under a handful of paper towels.”
“Big deal, someone drank a few beers. What’s so bad about that?” Without really knowing why, he felt as if he was in a television commercial.
“That boy was here this afternoon. I’m sure of it…”
“What boy?”
“The one who beat up Accado, the one who convinced your daughter to skip school. Stefano Mancini. Step, Babi’s boyfriend.”
“Babi’s boyfriend?”
“Can’t you see how she’s changed? Is it possible that you never notice a thing? It’s all his fault. She sneaks out to go to motorcycle races, she counterfeits notes for her absences…Plus, did you see that bruise under her eye? I think he must be beating her too.”
Claudio stood speechless. More problems. Could that young man seriously have beaten Babi? He needed to do something, intervene somehow. He’d have it out with him. Yes, that’s what he’d do.
“Here.” Raffaella gave him a sheet of paper.
“What is it?”
“The license plate number of that boy’s motorcycle. Call our friend Davione, give him the number. He’ll get us the address, and you can go talk to him.”
Now this would mean he’d actually have to do it. He clung to one last shred of hope. “Are you sure that it’s the right one?”
“I saw the bike in front of Babi’s school last time. I remember it perfectly.”
Claudio stuck the slip of paper into his wallet.
“Don’t lose it!” Those words from Raffaella were practically more of a threat than a piece of friendly advice.
Claudio went back to the living room and let himself collapse onto the sofa in front of the television set. A married couple was discussing things that were really their private business in front of a guy with long hair. What made them want to go and air their dirty laundry in front of everyone on television? He couldn’t even bring himself to do it at home, all alone, in his kitchen.
Now he was going to have to go and talk to that young man. And he’d probably beat him up too. He thought about Accado. Maybe he’d wind up in the same hospital room as him. They could keep each other company. That thought didn’t cheer him up much. He didn’t really like Accado all that much.
The show was interrupted by a commercial break. Claudio got out his wallet and went over to the telephone. Stefano Mancini, aka Step. That boy had cost him ten million lire and two cans of beer. He pulled out the sheet of paper with the motorcycle’s license plate number and dialed the phone number of his friend Davione.
Then, as he waited for someone to answer the call, he thought about his wife. Raffaella really was unbelievable. She’d seen that boy’s motorcycle once or twice, and she could remember the tag number perfectly. While Claudio had been driving that Mercedes Benz for a year and still didn’t know his own license plate number by heart.
“Hello, Enrico?”
“Yes.”
“Ciao, it’s Claudio Gervasi. Listen, I’m sorry to bother you but I need a favor.”
“Ask away.”
For a moment, Claudio wished that Enrico weren’t so damned accommodating. It’s really true, when you don’t need a favor, that’s when everyone’s happy to do it for you.
Chapter 26
Babi couldn’t figure out whether that light tapping on the wooden blind was a dream or reality. Maybe it was the wind. She shifted in bed and heard it again. A little louder, but precise, like a signal.
Babi got out of bed and went over to the window. She looked through the tiny spaces between the extended slats. Illuminated by the light of the full moon was Step. Surprised, she tugged on the cord to raise the blind, doing her best to make as little noise as possible.
“Step, what are you doing here? How did you manage to get up here?”
“It was really easy. I climbed up on the wall and then shinnied up the drainpipes. Come on, let’s go.”
“Where?”
“They’re expecting us.”
“Who is?”
“The others. My friends. Come on, don’t keep asking questions. Let’s get going! This time, if your folks catch us, it really is going to be a problem.”
“Hold on. Let me change into something.”
“No, we’re not going far.”
“But I’m not wearing anything under my nightgown.”
“So much the better.” He laughed.
“Come on, you cretin. Hold on a minute.” She half shut the window, sat down on the bed, and quickly got dressed. Bra, panties, sweatshirt, a pair of jeans, her tobacco shoes, and then she was back at the window. “Let’s go, but we can use the door.”
“No, we’ll go down this way. It’s better.”
“What are you, crazy? I’m scared to do that. I could slip and fall and die. You know what would happen if my folks woke up to the sound of me screaming, followed by a thud? Come on, follow me.”
Babi led him through the darkness of that sleeping apartment, tiptoeing along on soft wall-to-wall carpeting, carefully turning door handles. She deactivated the burglar alarm, took the house keys, and they were out. A slight click from the front door as it shut behind them, slowly pulled closed to prevent any loud noises. Then down the steps and into the courtyard, onto the motorcycle, rolling downhill, the engine off to avoid being heard. Then, outside the gate, Step put the bike in gear, put it in second, and hit the gas. They shot forward, now far from her sleeping home, safe and free to go where they pleased, together—while the rest of the world believed them fast asleep and alone in their own beds.