The Rome Prophecy

73

Drinking and walking are universal answers to most problems.

When the minibar is dry, Valentina resorts to the latter.

Motion to cope with emotion.

Lots of emotion.

In fact, she’s fired up and emotional enough to walk the length of the Appian Way, and then some.

She’s proud of the career she’s built herself. Rightly so. Proud of the crimes she’s solved, the people she’s helped and all the badasses she’s locked up.

How dare a sexist dinosaur like Caesario try to take that away from her?

She walks Tom all the way out to the Piazza Navona, but to no avail. Bernini’s ever-flowing Fontana dei Fiumi does nothing to lighten her mood.

From there she drags him east through the back streets, across Corso del Rinascimento and Via della Rotonda to the awe-inspiring Pantheon.

Inside, neither of them manages more than marginal interest in the guide’s stories of Agrippa, Hadrian, Constantine and the dozens of other historic figures who created, refurbished, worshipped or were buried beneath its famous dome.

The walking and the sights aren’t working.

Valentina just can’t clear her mind.

As the night starts to frost up and their feet begin to break down, they seek refuge in a touristy restaurant off Via della Fontanella di Borghese.

Tom chooses octopus cooked in a light tomato sauce with pecorino cheese, followed by mezze maniche pasta with bacon.

Valentina isn’t that hungry, but gets tempted by a light tempura of baccala and anchovies, followed by a small portion of tagliatelle with artichokes.

They pick out a reasonable bottle of Amarone della Valpolicella and try to talk about anything and everything except her suspension and the case she’s been taken off.

Only when a second bottle has been opened does she feel ready to stop avoiding things. ‘I suppose tomorrow I should find myself a solicitor.’

‘Don’t rush into it. Things could look different in the morning.’

‘I won’t, but I need representation.’ She stares out of the window at the bright lights and the crowds of noisy strangers, and feels isolated and vulnerable. ‘This isn’t my city, Tom. Aside from you, I don’t have friends here.’

He tries to reassure her. ‘You probably have more people on your side than you think.’

‘I doubt it.’ She swills wine in her glass. ‘When will you need to leave?’

The questions stings. ‘Not until you tell me to.’

‘ Grazie.’ His gesture of kindness makes her feel tearful. The only other person who would have been this understanding and supportive was her cousin, Antonio.

She curses herself for letting her guard down and thinking about him.

One moment of sadness, and memories of him flood in on her.

She blinks tears from her eyes. ‘This damned disciplinary case could take weeks.’

‘Then I’ll stay weeks.’

‘Or months.’

‘Then I’ll stay months.’

She doesn’t laugh, but there’s a suggestion of a smile. ‘Years? Maybe a lifetime?’

‘Now you’re pushing it.’

Finally the laugh comes. She looks into his eyes and thinks that if he does stay, then she might just cope with all the madness that Caesario and his cronies are going to throw at her.

They ask for the bill while drinking the last of the Valpolicella.

Tom tips the waiter, and at the door helps Valentina into her coat.

Outside, the night is crisp, and they link arms snugly as they walk back towards the Spanish Steps.

Valentina is feeling mellow and more than just a little drunk. She gestures to the fountain at the foot of the steps. ‘Rome is beautiful – but it doesn’t stop your life turning to rat shit.’

‘Your life’s fine, Valentina. You are defined by who you are and who you love, not by your job and what your boss does to you.’

Even through the haze of too much alcohol, she knows he’s right.

She holds him tighter and hopes she doesn’t fall and make a fool of herself before they reach the hotel.

An almost full moon shines on them, and Tom briefly looks up at it. For the first time that night he isn’t thinking of Valentina.

His thoughts are with another woman.

One lying in a psychiatric bed across the city. A woman terrified of the dark and the evil she’s certain it will bring.