Chapter 19 Rosie – Day 5
Rosie tries to listen to the tour guide’s voice filtering through her headphones.
They are in the Duomo di Siena. Theo insisted that visiting the beautiful cathedral was a bucket list activity, ‘We can’t come to Siena and miss this.
’ She didn’t want to tell him that she wasn’t particularly interested.
It’s packed with clammy tourists craning their necks to gaze up in bewilderment at the majestic dome that soars overhead.
The looming Gothic architecture gives her the creeps.
Statues of long-dead philosophers and prophets are tucked into alcoves beside towering black and white striped marble pillars like huge sticks of liquorice.
She would have preferred to wander around the city’s vibrant streets, which looked to be filled with artisan boutiques, heaving pavement cafes, and clouds of sugar from the many patisseries, but she didn’t want to appear uncultured.
She hasn’t stepped inside a church in years.
Not since the funeral, her subconscious mind reminds her.
She blinks that horrible day away. The tightness in her chest is an unwanted memory of the pain that she once was in.
It’s amazing how it lessens over time like everyone says it will, but the guilt and grief never fade completely.
Theo keeps giving her the thumbs up. He somehow manages to pull off the black plastic headset they were handed by the tour guide.
She didn’t realise he was so into architecture.
Despite her grumbles, he went out for another run this morning.
His training is starting to become a bone of contention.
When she asked him to skip today’s run, he insisted he would be quick but was still gone for forty-five minutes.
He’s going to get an injury if he keeps pushing himself so hard.
She tries to listen to the voice of the guide sharing details of the Baroque sculptures created in the thirteenth century, but her mind is elsewhere. After Giovanni’s visit this morning, it’s hard to relax.
Another girl has disappeared.
Rosie tells herself that it’s a coincidence, nothing more.
Yet something in her gut refuses to believe this.
Another girl is missing in the same town.
And not any girl. Carla. The one she saw kissing Luke.
He didn’t flinch when Giovanni spoke. And everyone else carried on eating as if they’d been told the weather forecast. She wonders if Gerry handed over the footage from the CCTV cameras.
He seemed reluctant, but why would he not want to help the investigation?
That’s not the only thing playing on her mind. Should she have told Giovanni about Luke and Carla? What if it’s relevant?
‘Rosie?’ Theo is giving her a funny look. His headset round his neck. The tour guide has finished speaking.
She realises she’s completely tuned out.
‘I said, are you ok?’ he repeats.
She decides she’ll talk to Theo about her concerns as soon as they get out of here. They can find a nice cafe, preferably with air-conditioning, and come up with a plan.
‘Great!’ she replies.
He looks baffled at her over-exuberant reply but is pulled away to follow the group as they move on to the next room.
It’s much smaller but still breathtaking, decorated with five-hundred-year-old frescos dedicated to the Virgin Mary.
Rosie tries to appreciate the painstaking hours each piece took to complete, but she can’t concentrate.
Is she being watched? She glances around at the rest of the group. About ten or so other tourists are also on the midday tour. All are wearing headsets, and most have cameras around their necks or their phones in their hands. No one is looking at her.
Theo has his hands in his pockets, tapping his feet on the intricately laid tiles.
‘Are you bored?’ she asks.
‘No.’ He breaks into a wide smile. ‘I’m with you, so of course I’m not.’
She smiles at the cheesy line.
Another tour group has joined them. A steady gush of people fills the small room.
Bodies all around her. A nervous itch starts at the back of her mouth.
A warning sign for a panic attack. She wants to pull Theo aside and ask if they can leave but he’s wandered to the far side of the room, in his own world.
A man with sharp sideburns and a mop of brown curls gives her a polite smile as she fans her face with a pamphlet.
Saints and gargoyles peer down from the walls and ceiling. She’s spooking herself out for no reason. She takes a deep breath, pressing her fingernails into her palms to remain centred.
Thankfully their tour guide tells them to follow her through a brick archway for the ‘pièce de résistance’.
Rosie has no idea what this might be but excitable chatter breaks out.
Theo glances down at his phone and looks up again.
He’s swallowed up at the front of the room, trying to fight the tide to rejoin her.
They move en masse to an entrance to a circular stone staircase.
‘I hope you’ve saved your energy,’ the tour guide says. ‘Only three hundred and fifty steps to go.’
Everyone else bustles to push to the front. Theo manages to make his way over to her. She clasps his hand, surprised by how clammy it is, and holds on tightly.
‘Three hundred and fifty steps?’ she groans. ‘Are you kidding me? This is supposed to be a holiday!’
‘You’ll be fine. The view is meant to be amazing. After you.’
She reluctantly enters the narrow staircase, muttering under her breath.
Huge blocks of bricks surround her. Like a tomb.
She blinks away the thought and focuses on putting one foot in front of another to climb the worn stairs.
Theo follows her, playfully giving her bum a tap every few steps.
This might not be how she would choose to spend her free time, but he’s organised this visit for her.
None of her other boyfriends ever went out of their way to plan things.
It’s romantic. Or at least it would be if her mind didn’t keep wandering back to Carla.
And Danielle Dixon.
She’s not seen any appeal posters for the schoolgirl in this city. The further away they drove from Laprezia, the more her youthful face disappeared.
‘Not too much further to go,’ Theo says.
She prays that he’s right.
‘I hope it’s worth it,’ she mumbles, sweat puddling in her bra. Before long, it becomes too hard to keep a conversation going.
The stairs are never-ending.
‘It will be,’ he promises her.
Eventually, the light in the stairwell changes. Excited voices and shrieks of delight filter down to them. They’ve reached the top.
‘Wow.’
She momentarily forgets everything else and takes in the impressive landscape before her, suddenly feeling very small and insignificant.
The slate grey roofs, the red terracotta tiles, the doll-house-like buildings that stretch into the distance.
Theo was right. It was worth the effort.
She wipes the sweat from her brow and drinks in the hustle and bustle of Siena spread out before them.
A warm breeze licks her flushed cheeks. There is a flash of light.
A camera startles her. It’s a man from the tour group, the one with the sideburns.
But he’s not taking a photo of the view.
He’s taking one of her.
What’s going on?
She spins to find Theo but she can’t see him anywhere. She’s about to call his name when suddenly there’s another flash.
People are clapping. She realises why she can’t spot Theo in the crowd. Because he’s kneeling on the ground.
On a bended knee.
‘Rosie, will you marry me?’