Chapter 44 Cosimo
Cosimo
Cosimo waited in the confession box, the wooden seat creaking under his weight as he shifted position, getting comfortable before the window slide drew back.
This was the safest place for them to meet in private, but even so, the cathedral wasn’t empty – it never was.
Father Polacco was at the far end of the nave, talking to the organist; Savelli lurked nearby as a lookout.
Only ordained priests could take confession, and if Cosimo was to be found in here …
But it wasn’t his fate that mattered, only Rafaella’s.
It was for her sake they had to take these precautions while they worked out their next steps.
He hadn’t seen Fon in years, but he still didn’t believe the man would give up his wife just like that.
He had slept fitfully after getting back to the seminary, hating the thought of his old adversary lying beside her in sheets that were still warm from his own body. He couldn’t stand it. They had to get away from here as soon as possible.
Where was she? She was late, and his ears strained for sounds outside the confession box: Savelli’s hushed greeting.
Whispered words of warning. His nerves were growing with every minute that ticked past midday, but at last he heard light footsteps approaching over the mosaic stone floor and a moment later, the panel slid back.
Her delicate shadow fell into the confession box.
‘Cosi?’
Cosimo smiled at the sound of her gentle voice.
‘Amore mio, you came.’ He felt like a teenager again, the life force rising in him like a spring shoot, eagerly seeking the light.
‘Of course.’
He heard the breath of relief in her voice too, and he pressed his hand to the mesh screen. She pressed hers back and he felt tiny diamonds of her skin through the grille, precious softness.
For several moments neither of them spoke. It was enough just to be with her. Yesterday’s passion had engulfed them in a wave of desperate kisses, urgent promises; now it felt almost reverential to sit together in silence.
It was another moment before he realized she was weeping.
‘… Rafa?’ he frowned, a spike of fear spearing his stomach. ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’ he whispered. ‘Is it the children?’
Her breath skipped in small judders. ‘They … they went back to their father this morning.’
‘Yes.’ Savelli had told him everything when he’d returned from the meeting: how she’d wept handing them over, giving them their new clothes and toys, food from the kitchen and all the money she had in her purse, urging Nico to contact her if they ever needed help.
He tried to find the words that would bring her comfort. ‘I know it’s hard. You could have given them a better life, but … he is their father, even if he’s poor. They’re a family at the end of the day. They belong together.’
‘I know,’ she whispered, sniffing lightly.
‘But they were lucky to have had you for as long as they did. You helped them, Rafa, when they needed it most – when they had no one else in the world. They’ll never forget that.’
‘I hope not,’ she whispered, pressing a handkerchief to her eyes.
‘It’s time to think about you now. Us … I think I’ve got a plan.’
‘… Y-you do?’ She juddered, still upset.
‘We’ll leave tomorrow. During Ferragosto.
’ The high summer festival, celebrating the Assumption of the Virgin Mary, always drew in huge crowds to the cathedral towns.
There would be a parade through Otranto, the streets thronging with bodies; it would give them a clean getaway, no delays.
They needed to put distance between themselves and the Giannellis as quickly as possible.
‘We’ll go after Mass. The crowds will be so crazy, no one will even notice we’ve gone for hours.
We’ll need money, of course – for a taxi to the station and then train tickets – but I’ve got that covered.
I’ve still got whatever I came in with. I’ll just need to get down to the cellar tonight to get it back.
’ He drew breath, waiting for her response – something, anything.
He’d been plotting their getaway almost all night.
It was the best plan by far for getting away from here.
‘… Raf?’
A small silence drew out. ‘I can’t wait that long,’ she whispered.
‘Till tomorrow?’
‘I’m sorry.’
He frowned. ‘But … but why? We’ve gone this long – what’s one more night?’
She didn’t reply, and a seed of fear began to bloom inside him. ‘Rafa, what’s happened?’
‘I just have to go. Today. I can’t wait. I’m sorry. It’s not safe.’
‘Safe?’ His stomach plummeted to the floor.
Had they been seen yesterday – had word got back to her husband?
Had their moment of abandon hurled devastating consequences upon her?
Or was it even worse than that – Fon had seen him in the garden?
He had smelled Cosimo on her skin and just known?
He closed his eyes, feeling sick. ‘What did he do? Tell me, Rafa. Does Fon know?’
‘Not about you.’ He could hear in her shallow breaths, the strain flexing her voice, that she was frightened.
‘Then what? Did something happen when he got back last night?’ He saw her hand fly up to her mouth, suppressing sobs as her head bent forward. His mind was racing. ‘Did he hurt you?’
‘He tried to,’ she said in a small voice.
‘Tried to? What does that mean? What did he do?’ Urgency made his voice hard, but he had to know.
‘He tried to force himself—’
Cosimo threw his head back and scrunched his eyes shut as his mind filled with words, thoughts, images … He felt like he couldn’t breathe as anger, his old friend, pumped through his veins, as fresh and ready as ever.
‘But I managed to get away. He was so drunk, and … I locked myself in the bathroom and stayed in there all night. I didn’t come out till he’d gone.’
Cosimo could hardly speak. How could he have left her there with him?
‘He did this because you told him you were leaving him?’
‘No. He still doesn’t know about you.’
‘I’m going to kill him,’ he murmured, his voice breaking.
‘No. Please,’ she pleaded. ‘That won’t help … I just need to get away from here. I can’t go back there, not to an empty house. The children have left, and Flavia’s gone to Gina’s already. He’ll try it again, I know he will.’
Cosimo rubbed his face in his hands, his rage so great he felt the booth could scarcely contain him.
He needed to get out of here – this cathedral; this port.
But he also knew their departure wasn’t going to be as easy as walking through doors.
They needed time to make arrangements: find somewhere to stay, get some money together.
But he couldn’t, he wouldn’t, let her be alone with her husband again.
‘OK, look … Can you give me a few hours?’
‘What for?’
‘I’ll make a call. My brother will be able to help.’
‘… What?’
‘Fede. He’ll be able to help us. He’s in Rome, but he’ll work something out. He’s resourceful.’
There was a shocked silence.
‘Oh my God,’ she whispered. ‘You don’t know?’
He frowned. ‘… Know what?’
‘I can’t believe they didn’t tell you.’ She sounded stunned.
‘Tell me what? Rafa? What are you talking about?’
She hesitated, as if trying to find the words. ‘… Fede was snatched off the street outside his office in Rome last month.’
Cosimo felt the anchor drag, catching on rocks as the world jolted again and slowed once more.
‘He hasn’t been seen since. It’s believed there’s been a ransom demand, but no one really knows for sure – well, not outside your family circle. Fon’s been trying to find out more but he’s not had any luck. It seems to have been kept out of the papers … I can’t believe no one told you!’
But Cosimo could. This had his father’s fingerprints all over it.
Suppressing stories, behind-closed-doors negotiations …
He would be dealing with this ‘his way’.
No need to make a fuss. Reputation was everything, and the Franchettis’ was already in freefall.
A kidnapped son was the very last thing his father needed as he tried to claw his way back from disgrace.
Did his mother even know? She had lost a daughter; now a son too?
‘Cosi?’ Rafaella whispered. ‘Are you OK?’
No, he wasn’t. This was a world of stone where no hearts beat, and his brother needed him. But he had to be practical; for Fede’s sake, he had to act with logic, not rage. Until they had money, they were stranded. Rome was a day away from here.
‘It has to be tomorrow, Rafa – I can’t get the money until everyone’s asleep tonight,’ he whispered, seeing her shadow turn towards his voice. ‘I know you’re scared of going back to the house, but isn’t there somewhere you can go tonight? To Gina’s?’
She hesitated. ‘… Maybe.’
He heard the doubt in her voice. ‘Rafa? You know Gina would never let Fon get near you if she knew.’
There was another hesitation. ‘You’re right. Don’t worry about me,’ she said. ‘I’ll be fine. Where should we meet?’
‘Down by the traffic lights on Via Faccolli.’ They couldn’t chance being seen together in the old town, but they could get a taxi to the station from there. ‘After Mass, it will be easy to disappear in the parade.’
‘OK.’
‘We can do this. Go to Gina’s. It’s just one more night.’
‘One more night.’ Her hand went up to the grille again, blocking the light, and he pressed his fingers as hard as he could against it, touching her in fragments as if she was pieced together from mosaic tiles.
He wanted more, all of her, as he’d had last night …
but a moment later she was gone, the confession box door swinging open behind her.
Sunshine filled the place where she had been, a violent radiance assailing him so that he could see the sun shafts spearing the air before him.
He basked in her afterglow for several moments, giving her time to leave before he exited the booth too.
Savelli came and stood by him. ‘Well?’ he asked in a low voice.
‘We’re leaving here tomorrow after the service.’
Savelli nodded. He seemed unsettled by the speed at which this was all happening, but for Cosimo it was all too slow. He had to be patient.
Life would begin again tomorrow.