had been nothing to do but leave.
‘ Il treno regionale 22485 proveniente da Paola viaggia con un ritardo di circa dieci minuti.’
A gust of wind stroked the platform with idle violence. Zen tried to visualise Lucca, and his life there with Gemma, but he couldn’t. Only this cradle-shaped tomb seemed real, all else an illusion.
‘ Buona sera, signore.’
An old lady and a boy of about fifteen stood looking at him.
‘ Signora Maria, buona sera.’
‘Allow me to present my grandson. We’re here to meet my sister. Go to the shop inside the station, Sabatino, and buy me a roll of mints. Here are five euros. You may spend the change on anything you like.’
The boy ran off.
‘Thank you,’ Maria said to Zen, once he was out of earshot.
Zen looked at her in astonishment.
‘For what?’
‘For killing that brute.’
‘But I — ’
‘It needed to be done. Now we can all rest easy.’
‘ Signora, I — ’
‘You’re a real man, the kind they don’t make any more. Your wife is a lucky woman. May God bless and keep you always.’
‘Look, I think you — ’
But Maria was no longer attending to him. Her face was averted and full of joyful expectation.
‘Ah, here comes the train!’ she said.
