be much more than twenty-five.’
‘Twenty-nine,’ he said with wounded dignity.
‘I’m sorry, twenty-nine. So tell me,
‘No, no, only four-no, five,’ he assured her quickly. ‘It’s not so bad,
A giggle from the door told them Nikki had been eavesdropping.
‘Five’s all right, isn’t it Mummy.’
‘I suppose we can overlook five,’ she agreed, laughing.
‘But when I said you should know about me, that’s not when I meant,’ he told her. ‘I must tell you that I have hardly any money at the moment. I was-er-’ he struck his forehead while he fought for the English word ‘
‘Goodness, when?’
‘In London. I don’t like London. It’s too big and noisy. Three of them jumped me, grabbed my bags and ran. I didn’t even get a good look at them.
‘Luckily I had my passport and a little money in my back pocket, but my wallet with credit cards was in one of the bags. So were my decent clothes.’
‘Did you go to the police?’
‘Sure, but what can they do? I’ve cancelled the credit cards, but now I must get some more money. I bought some old clothes in a charity shop, also an old suitcase. Now I wear the old clothes so that my good suit stays in the bag.
‘I had just enough money to get a train out of London, to anywhere. I just got off here because it looked nice, a small town, some countryside. But I don’t know where I am. The station board said Elverham, but where is Elverham? What is Elverham? Is it real, or did I imagine it?’
He saw her looking at him and came down to earth.
‘I’m sorry. I warned you I’m a little crazy.’
‘I guess you’re entitled to be. Elverham is about sixty miles north of London, and it’s a market town, surrounded by country. It’s a quiet place. Nothing very dramatic ever happens here. So you got off the train and did what?’
‘I wandered about and found the park. It looked nice so I lay down under a bush and stayed the night. That’s why I look a bit-well-’ His gesture indicated his dishevelled appearance.
Nikki beamed, evidently not liking him less for looking like a tramp.
‘Tomorrow I’ll try to open a bank account and get some money sent from Italy,’ he said. ‘Until then I have almost nothing, so if you want a deposit for the room I can’t do it today, I’m afraid.’
‘There’s no rush. You should try the room out first. You may not like it.’
‘After the way I slept last night, I’ll like it,’ he assured her, and they all laughed.
‘I’ve done Italy in geography,’ Nikki said proudly. ‘It looks like a boot. Which bit do you come from?’
She thought he hesitated a moment before replying, ‘Tuscany.’
Nikki frowned. ‘Where’s that?’
‘When you look at the map, it’s the bit on the left, near the top,’ he explained.
‘And that’s where your home is?’ Nikki persisted.
The question seemed to trouble him. His expression became a little vague, and he murmured, ‘My home,’ in an almost inaudible voice.
‘Yes, you know, a place where they have to let you in, even if they don’t like you.’
‘Nikki,’ Laura groaned again.
‘It’s not a bad description,’ Gino said with a faint smile. ‘Yes, there’s a place where they’d have to let me in.’
‘Is it like this?’ Nikki wanted to know.
He laughed outright. ‘No, it’s a farm.’
‘Is it big?’
‘Too big. Too much work. I just ran away. Something smells good.’
‘It’s only a cup of tea,’ Laura pointed out. ‘I’ll pour you one.’
Laura did so, appreciating the neat way he’d slid away from the subject of his home. She wondered exactly what he was running from. Not hard work, as he’d implied. But he was escaping something. There had been an odd look on his face, that hinted at troubled currents beneath.
She wasn’t sure how much of this robbery story she believed. It might just be his way of saying that he wasn’t really a vagrant, no matter how things looked.
An instinctive clown, she thought, but one who clowned as a way of hiding himself.
If it came to that, she supposed it was true that she knew nothing about him. He might be all kinds of a weirdo.
But then she looked at him, and calculations fell away. This was a good man. All her instincts told her so.
‘I’ll get your room ready,’ she said.
He followed her up the stairs to the next floor where three of the rented rooms were located, the other two being on the floor above. She led him to the one at the far end of the corridor, with Nikki bringing up the rear.
As Laura had warned him, it was tiny. The bed was narrow and only just long enough for his tall figure. There was a wardrobe, a chest of drawers, a chair and a small washbasin attached to the wall.
Even so, he had space enough for his meagre possessions.
Laura fetched sheets and blankets and began making up the bed with Nikki’s help, so that Gino had to hop out of the way in that narrow space.
‘Can’t I do anything useful?’ he asked.
‘You could put the pillow in its case,’ Nikki told him kindly.
‘Thank you ma’am.’
As they worked Laura said, ‘I have five other guests. Sadie and Claudia are sisters, and they both work at making computers in a local factory. Bert is a night-watchman, Fred is a bouncer at a nightclub, and Mrs Baxter is a widow and retired teacher. She keeps an eye on Nikki when I have to work in the evening.’
‘You work, as well as running this place?’ he asked, startled.
‘I do a few hours as a barmaid. The pub’s not far away.’
When it was all finished they stood back and regarded the result.
‘I’m afraid it’s a bit bare,’ Laura said.
‘I know what we can do,’ Nikki said. She disappeared and returned a moment later, clutching something that she laid triumphantly on the little chest of drawers by the bed.
It was a small soft toy in the shape of a dog.
‘His name’s Simon,’ she said. ‘And he’ll keep you company.’
Gino sat down on the bed so that his eyes were on a level with hers.
‘Thank you,’ he said gravely. ‘That was very kind. Now I shall have a friend.’
‘Three friends,’ Nikki said at once. ‘’Cos you’ve got us too.’
He raised his eyes to Laura, signalling a question.
‘Yes, you’ve got three friends now,’ she agreed. ‘I’ve got to go and start the supper. Come along Nikki. If Gino slept on the ground last night he’s probably longing to get some sleep now.’
He smiled and didn’t deny it.
When they had left he threw himself back on the bed and lay looking at the ceiling, waiting for sleep to come. After the uncomfortable night he’d had, it should happen easily.
But, as he’d feared, there was only restless wakefulness. By now he was drearily used to that happening. Once he’d been a man who slept easily, like a contented animal, living through his happy physical instincts.
But in the six months since he’d left Italy that had all changed. Now it seemed that he rested properly only one night out of two. The others were spent in chasing wretched dreams and visions, wrestling with regrets and ‘if onlys’.
The child’s mention of ‘home’ had caught him off guard, as so many things seemed to do these days.
Home was Belluna, the great farm in Tuscany. If he knocked on the door, his brother and Alex, his brother’s wife-for so he must force himself to call her now-would let him in. They would have to, since he owned half the property.
