I TOLD GIOVANNI everything. What Mae had said about me, Manolo’s suspicions and threats, my personal situation and the fact that I thought I was in love with him too.
‘Get out of there at once,’ he shouted down the phone, desperately worried.
‘How am I supposed to do that? Besides, I’ve got my things there.’
‘Forget your things, and jump on the first plane. They might know where you live and go and try to beat you up. You need to come and spend some time in Italy. And when you return, change apartments. All right?’
I thought he was exaggerating a bit, but I could tell from his voice how nervous he was, so I agreed to everything.
Last night I dreamed of Granny. She was running through a dense forest, pushing a pram with rusty wheels. It must have been autumn, because the ground was strewn with leaves of all colours. Granny had put her hair up in a complicated chignon, doubtless to be more comfortable. She was disguised in a long black coat with buttons all the way down it, like a military greatcoat. She moved lightly and gracefully despite the thick piles of leaves under her feet. Then all at once she came to a halt, out of breath, and started to stroke the face of the baby in the pram.
Her caresses warmed my heart, and her sweet face comforted me. I felt as if she had always been there, that she had never been apart from me. She curled her fingers through the locks of my hair. I was overwhelmed by a sensation of infinite love, and when I turned to look up at her I could see her eyes were closed, but she was smiling because she knew I was looking at her. She seemed to be wearing pale pink lipstick, and her lips were moving all the time, as if she were trying to tell me something.
‘Rest now, little one.’
To emphasize his words, Giovanni clasped me to him even more tightly. We fell asleep again in each other’s arms, in this tiny hotel bedroom he has rented for me.