Angelo turned away, but Marco called after him.
“Don’t you want to watch, Papa?”
The Colonel raised his palms. “It’s just a game, Angelo.”
Angelo walked away before Marco could pour his third pail over the model reservoir, the soft splash of water on sand trailing him as he walked back to Chiara, dreading what he had to do.
“What’s wrong?” she asked from behind her sunglasses.
“My father. I have to keep an eye on him, Chiara.”
“What do you mean?”
“If you go down to the beach, you’ll see. He will go after that Reschen Valley reservoir as soon as possible, and it will be much too easy for him to succeed if I am no longer minister.”
“But you’ve put an end to that project.”
“Temporarily, Chiara. Mussolini is still very interested. I’ve only managed to buy some time.”
She sat up straight and faced him. “I want peace in my family, Angelo. I cannot and will not deal with your lies and your betrayals. What you did to my father is unforgivable.”
“Your father knew what was coming. I never intended to lie to you.”
She threw herself back into the chair.
He tried again. “My position requires being a member of the party. I didn’t have a choice, and I still don’t.” He could feel her glare even from behind her shades.
“We always have a choice. You have decided that gaining power over your father is more important than we are. If you want us to be close again, Angelo, then you will have to make a different decision. Either a life with me, or you can leave me—and your son—and go to war against the Colonel. But as long as your father has Mussolini’s ear, you can—”
“I have Mussolini’s ear, Chiara. The directives were initiated by me.”
He pointed to where the Colonel and Marco were still busy with their sand reservoir. He forced himself to speak gently. “You see that over there? He’s teaching Marco how to build dams. I have this reoccurring nightmare, Chiara. Ever since I left the Reschen Valley, it keeps coming to me.”
“And?”
“I remember it every time I wake up: I’m standing on a hill above the two lakes. I watch the valley flooding, the water sweeping the villages away, and I feel as if I am losing someone, that there is someone I need to help.” He realised he was in danger of revealing too much, and not just to her. It would change everything.
“Your conscience is a funny thing, Angelo. Maybe that someone is me. Have you ever thought of that?”
He had not.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me about this nightmare of yours?”
He reached for her hand, and she let him take it. “I don’t know. Can we let it be for now?” He squeezed her hand. “I need to stay on as minister, Chiara. And when the hearings are over, I promise everything will be different.”
She turned away from him, her hand slipping from his. “So you’ll do what the Colonel says and have Stefano take the blame?”
“Maybe I can manage something else.” He smiled at her.
Hers, in return, was still cautious but gave him some assurance.
“Let’s just leave it now.”
When he looked over to where the Colonel and his son were, he was surprised to see that Gina and the general were standing with them. She wasn’t looking in their direction, and he wished she would, for Angelo felt a sudden urge to tell Gina how he was succeeding at reconciling with his wife. And maybe Gina would have some ideas about the hearings, about Stefano. About his own political future. He could see that was where things would have to go now.
“Shall we turn in early tonight, Angelo?” Chiara asked. She had her eyes closed next to him.
He glanced back at Gina, who was moving towards the hotel. “I would, darling, but I thought we’d go to the casino again. I’ve arranged to play poker tonight.” It wasn’t quite a lie. He still had time to arrange it.
“I don’t care to go to the casino again.”
“Then wait for me? I won’t be long. Promise.” He stood up and kissed her cheek just as Gina disappeared from view. “I’ll get us some refreshments from the bar.”
Chiara’s eyes were still closed. “Fetch your sisters out of the sun before you go.”
In the hotel lobby, he looked for Gina but did not find her. He asked the clerk for a pen and paper and wrote, Must see you. Can you get away? He put it into an envelope and addressed it, his pulse unsteady.
That evening, before dinner, the concierge delivered a note to him. Hotel’s boathouse. 11 p.m. Putting in an appearance at the casino first.
As would he.
***
A ngelo exchanged his money for chips and jogged up the steps to the hall. Near the second roulette table, his eyes landed on a short dark-haired woman in a black-and-white gown, but it was not Gina. At the invitation of a politician, Angelo went to a poker table in one of the rooms behind the mirrors and made sure to lose the first few hands. After politely taking his leave, he looked for Gina again, but could not find her. She must be already waiting for him at the boathouse.
He hurried back to the Hotel Astoria and out onto the veranda, where he slipped off his Oxfords, then the garters and socks, and stuffed the latter two into the shoes. He carried them down to the boathouse. The wet sand was cool on his soles, though he did not enjoy the murky sponginess of it.
At the door, he knocked, ridiculous as it was, as if Gina might have arranged an earlier meeting with someone else. But nobody was there. Inside, and blinded by the dark, the only relief from the
