Chapter 22

Chapter 22 - The Departure

Angela crept out of her house early that morning, unbelievably early. She had never woken up this early in all of her life. Everyone in Girotondo was fast asleep and the air was even cool. The moon was small so everything was cloaked in darkness. But not Angela, not this morning.

As she closed the front door behind her and placed the note on it, she sped quietly from the Piazza carrying only one bag and she silently slipped into her car. No one saw her. It was only once she was in the safety of her car that she realized that she had forgotten to say goodbye to her house and to her Piazza. But she didn’t forget to look up at her mountain one more time. She stared up at Monte Amiato like a child staring up at it’s wise old grandfather. And a tear welled in her eye as she whispered the word, “Thank you.”

She calmly waited until Michael joined her. She hardly noticed him open the car door. And he was carrying the smallest of bags.

“My housekeeper misses nothing. So I took as little as possible.” He gingerly pointed out.

Angela smiled and then fretted.

“You left her the note?”

“Yep, She will soon know that I have had to return to England perhaps for good to tend to my family and my estate.”

Angela smiled. He really had done it. He hadn’t let her down. She couldn’t believe her good fortune. She gave him a peck on the cheek. He hardly noticed, he was like a young schoolboy on the ultimate adventure with his closest buddies.

The car crept unnoticed through the streets of Girotondo, tires not even squealing on the parched flag stones. Then it drew up next to Angela’s parents house and hid in the shadows. Angela ran in.

Her parents were both up giving Giuseppe breakfast. They wore their pajama’s and nightgowns and robes. Giuseppe was fully dressed. Angela’s mother fussed around her and insisted she drank a cup of coffee. Then she opened the bag she had packed for Giuseppe to reveal to her daughter its contents. It was the only way she knew to stall the goodbye. For this was almost the worse goodbye she could ever have conceived of. This might well be a goodbye for ever to both her daughter and her little grandson. But she knew it was right. She knew she had to be strong. So she kept fretting and mumbling.

Then the moment came. The moment finally arrived for them all to say goodbye. First her parents hugged Giuseppe and then they turned to Angela. They turned to their daughter and they looked old again. Old and tired and wonderful. She hugged them both harder than ever. Then she turned. She only looked back once more as she closed the front door behind her. And they all smiled to each other one last time. They smiled smiles that hung in the air for ever. And then she was gone.

Michael steered the car out of Girotondo and they both looked up at their mountain.

They only had one more task to perform before they could disappear. At 8.30am Angela rang il Comandante and asked him to meet with her half an hour before the gathering in the square with the neighbors. She asked him to bring il Dottore and to come to her house. Il Comandante eagerly agreed.

Il Comandante left his beloved police station at 9.25am with il Dottore trotting along beside him. They were both dressed smartly, for this was an important meeting. And they were the officials. Il Comandante was rarely nervous. They arrived punctually at Piazza Rimazza. It felt strange being so punctual, but he dared not be late. As he entered the Piazza il Comandante straightened the peacock on his head.

As they marched up to Angela and Bruno’s house they spotted a note pinned to the front door. Il Comandante stepped forward and read it. It told them the door was open and to go on up to the living room. They did as they were told.

They both walked slowly and anxiously up the stairs. They were right to be afraid, for once they walked into the living room all they could do was to gasp. Spread all around them were the photographs of il Comandante and il Dottore with Angela. They looked at each other in shock.

“You too!” Il Comandante attacked the poor little doctor.

Then they gathered up their lewd photographs. Each careful to collect his own and each trying not to look at the others. They were rarely prude. Then they both saw her at once. They spotted the mannequin sitting on the sofa and deep, deep down they knew. They knew and there was nothing they could do. They walked slowly toward the mannequin and somberly read the note pinned to her front. The note was from Angela and was very clear. They were to inform everyone in Girotondo that Bruno and Angela had left Girotondo so that he could live his last years in solitude and peace, for he would not recover from his illness. Then she told them that they both had one more task to fulfill. They had to take the mannequin from her house without being seen and they had to destroy it. She ended by reminding them that she retained the negatives of their despicable photographs and would be happy to use them at any time were they not to carry out her instructions exactly as written. Then she thanked them and said goodbye.

Il Comandante and il Dottore stood in silence, staring at the mannequin. They were speechless. Then they looked at each other. Il Comandante spoke first.

“We do exactly as she says and that is that. After all, she will one day be the Contessa.”

Il Dottore nervously nodded and they went into action.

At 10am il Comandante and il Dottore met the crowd in the Piazza. They stood side by side and they told the crowd exactly what Angela had ordered them to say. After much discussion and deliberation il Comandante and his lieutenants dispersed the crowd. Everyone went back to their homes on Piazza Rimazza and life returned to normal.

And no one in Piazza Rimazza noticed il Comandante and il Dottore quietly sneaking into the Piazza in the middle of the night. It would have been hard to spot them given that they were dressed all in black. Il Comandante even wore a balaclava. The two of them hugged the shadows and the pillars like professional cat burglars. And no one saw them exit Angela’s house carrying a mannequin wrapped in a blanket. Not even Signora Malaventa.

And no one spotted the two of them driving through Girotondo in il Dottore’s car, with il Comandante and the mannequin lying in a final embrace on the back seat so as not to be seen. And certainly no one ever saw the two of them high up on Monte Amiato burying the mannequin where no one would ever find her, a mere handful of meters away from where Bruno lay.

copyright ©Philip L Letts 2007