Chapter 12
Twelve
WE HAD ANOTHER DRINK, and then another. Arms linked, we scaled the Spanish Steps before Stefano chased us back down again, a fearsome ogre.
Victoria and I ran ahead of him, giggling, hand in hand; breathless and giddy, two-at-a-time, two-at-a-time.
We threw coins over our shoulders into the Trevi Fountain.
One coin for me, although Stefano urged two.You know the legend, right?
That smirk again. Leaning in for a kiss.
And then Victoria, snatching the limelight: Take my picture.
Here, I’ll be quick. There were signs everywhere saying not to, but still she hitched up her trousers and waded in.
She got the shot, and we slipped away before the sluggish security detail could stop us.
All day we wandered the cobbled streets, tired and aching, happy and drunk.
In the piazza, Stefano bought us each a single red rose from a lady hunched over a bucket.
Victoria looped her arms around his neck and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.
You’re a doll. I nodded, fixed my smile in place, tossed him a quiet thank you.
We stopped for supplì. We stopped for gelato.
We stopped for beers in a basement, standing room only.
The sun drooped, heavy in the sky; the streets swelled with people; night fell.
One more place, she begged with increasing desperation.
You can’t go home yet. One more place. Then another one more.
Then another: a club. Exposed brick. Blue neon lettering clinging to the wall, a jerky jazz trio clinging to the stage.
The black-and-white tiled floor, a game of chess.
The three of us sat crowded around a small table, a red candle burning at its centre.
‘Let me get these,’ Stefano said, twirling a lock of Victoria’s hair between his fingers.
‘No, no, no,’ she protested, swaying slightly. Her eyes were bleary and unfocused. ‘I’m the gate-crasher. I buy the drinks.’
Stefano held her gaze, then, quick as a flash, jumped up and made for the bar.
‘You’re only allowed to pay for one round,’ she yelled, turning in her seat. ‘I mean it, Steffy.’
I heard laughter from down the hallway.
She returned her attention to me and smiled, but sadly, I thought. ‘Hello you.’
‘Hello,’ I replied, sandwiching her fingers between mine.
She looked down, then shook her head and guffawed.
‘What?’ I asked, joining in with her laughter. ‘What’s so funny?’
‘Oh Shannon, oh Shannon, oh Shannon.’ She sighed, suddenly serious again. ‘Why him?’
‘What?’ I asked, wondering if I’d misheard her over the music.
‘Never mind, never mind,’ she mumbled, attempting to catch the straw between her teeth. She took a long sip, which went down the wrong way. She coughed and I thumped her on the back. ‘Thank you,’ she croaked.
‘Tell me about your trip,’ I said.
‘What trip?’
‘The States.’
‘Nothing to tell.’
‘I don’t believe you.’ I took her hand again and shook it until her whole body joined in and her head lolled onto her chest. I caught her grinning. ‘Come on,’ I said, jabbing her middle. ‘Tell me. You made out you were having such a lovely time.’
She shrugged, her chin still on her chest, and stared at the scratched table. ‘Boy trouble. It’s always the same.’
‘Which boy?’
‘You don’t know him. He’s a local. A bit older.’
‘How much older?’
‘We should get nuts. Do they do nuts here?’ she asked, suddenly sitting upright and looking over her shoulder. ‘Get Stef’s attention, I want something salty.’
‘V, how much older?’
‘It doesn’t matter. They’re all the same. They all want the same thing.’ She paused and scraped a half-moon of dirt out from underneath her fingernail. ‘Anyway, what about you?’
‘What about me?’
She sniggered. ‘What the fuck are you doing here?’
‘I’m listening to jazz, baby.’
She snorted. ‘No, what are you doing here, in Rome?’
‘I’m . . . on holiday, I suppose.’
‘Yeah, but . . .’ She paused and rolled her head back so she was staring at the ceiling. ‘I don’t get it . . . why Stefano?’
So I hadn’t misheard.
‘What do you mean?’ I asked nervously. ‘I thought you liked him.’
‘I do, I do, I totally do, but . . .’ She sighed, exasperated. ‘I mean, you’re just so . . .’ She pulled a face. ‘And he’s just so . . .’
I felt a swell of – I don’t know what – anger, betrayal, confusion flare up inside me. ‘But you’re the one that said we should date each other.’
‘I did?’
‘Yes. You said we’d be good together, that I shouldn’t be too picky.’
She snorted again. ‘No. That doesn’t sound like something I’d say.’
‘But you – but—’
‘I would never pressure you into something you didn’t want to do,’ she said, gazing at me earnestly. ‘I mean, does that really sound like me?’
‘No. Of course not,’ I conceded. Was there any point in arguing with her?
Victoria pushed the candle to one side and slumped forward.
She reached for my ponytail and brought me down to the table so our foreheads were touching.
I could feel the sweat on her skin; taste her breath, hot and acidic.
She looked at me sleepily and blew a hair from her lip.
‘Do you want to kiss me?’ she mouthed silently.
Do you want to kiss me?
I felt my heart thump against the wood, a dull pressure in my temple.
Is that what she said? Is that what she meant? I couldn’t be certain, what with the music coming from the band and the blue light casting silhouettes across her face.
Before I could respond, Stefano appeared with our drinks. ‘What’s going on?’ he asked, placing them between us so we were forced to sit up.
‘Great timing, Steffy,’ Victoria slurred.
‘Oh yeah?’ he said, sitting down and slinging his arm around her shoulder. ‘What’s going on then?’
She shrugged him off, visibly irritated. ‘Me and your girlfriend were just about to have it off.’
I had no idea what Victoria was doing, whether she had wanted to kiss me or whether I was just a pawn to her, some foot soldier in a larger war. I glanced sideways at Stefano, watched his expression transform.
He leered at the two of us. ‘Is that so?’
‘Yeah.’ Victoria grabbed his chin and jerked his head from side to side. ‘But then you came and ruined things.’
‘You can carry on if you want,’ he said, escaping her grip. He caught my eye. ‘I mean, I won’t stop you.’
I felt his leg press against mine beneath the table, and knew with complete certainty he was doing the exact same to Victoria.
‘In fact,’ he continued, placing his hand on my thigh but looking at her, ‘maybe we could all go back to your hotel room, V. The three of us, like you said, continue the fun . . .’
Victoria blinked, processing what he’d just said, then, with a look of horror, shrank away from him. ‘Oh my God, you cannot be serious.’
Stefano laughed uncertainly.
‘Did you hear that, Shannon?’ she asked, her eyes wide and indignant. ‘He’s not seriously suggesting a threesome, is he?’
Stefano’s expression hardened.
‘Can you actually believe it?’ she continued, not even attempting to hide her revulsion. ‘Isn’t that just the most disgusting thing you’ve ever heard, Shannon?’
I wished she’d stop addressing me directly, as if I was in on whatever game she was playing.
I looked at Stefano. His ears had turned red. Embarrassed fury blazed in his eyes.
‘Oh come on, it was a joke,’ he scoffed. ‘You think I’d want what you’re selling?’
‘Ha, cute,’ she said, narrowing her eyes. ‘And now he’s backpedalling.’
‘Hey, let’s just calm down,’ I said, attempting to defuse the situation. ‘This is all just a miscommunication, a misunderstanding.’
‘There’s no misunderstanding,’ she said, her tone serious. ‘Stefano’s jealous, aren’t you, Steffy?’
‘You know what, we’re done here. Come on, let’s go,’ he said.
‘See, Shannon. He’s jealous of us, Shannon. He’s jealous of what we have.’
‘Shut up.’
‘Look, he’s going red, Shannon.’
‘Shut up, Victoria.’
‘Oh yeah? What are you going to do?’
‘I mean it, V. Shut up.’ His hand clenched into a fist.
‘Please, can you both just calm down.’
‘Oooh, big man,’ she said, taunting him.
‘V,’ he warned.
‘Is big man going to hit me?’
‘Puttana,’ he barked, kicking the table so our drinks rattled. ‘FUCK.’ People looked over.
Victoria sank back in her chair and chewed the inside of her cheek.
No one said anything.
Stefano sat, shamefaced, staring at his hands. He reached for his glass, took a sip and placed it down again. He cleared his throat. ‘I’m sorry.’
Victoria stared at him, her expression unreadable.
Stefano, unnerved by her silence, continued: ‘But you push and you push and you . . .’ He clenched and unclenched his fist. ‘Look, I said I’m sorry.’ Clench, unclench.
But Victoria just stared at him, stared past him, really, as if he wasn’t there at all.
‘Well, come on then. Fucking say something.’ A pause. Then, addressing me: ‘You see what happens?’ Then, under his breath: ‘These bitches.’ A pause. He scraped his chair back and got up. ‘You know what, fuck this. We’re leaving.’ He grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet.
‘Wait – we should make sure she gets back OK,’ I protested, as he steered me through the crowd. ‘Stefano, stop it. You’re hurting me.’ I looked over my shoulder.
Victoria was staring into space. It was dark, we were drunk, but still, I could’ve sworn I saw her smile.