Page 18

W hen we turn into Via dei Serpenti, I spot a man in a smart navy suit pacing in front of the bar.

He looks familiar, but before I can fully place him, Giulio veers sharply left, taking us up a side street.

I grab his shoulders to keep my balance and find myself flattened against him, so close I feel the low vibration of his voice when he speaks.

‘Just need to make a quick detour!’

‘Giulio!’ I protest, but he accelerates harder, only stopping when we’re on a long avenue lined with ancient stone walls and broccoli-shaped trees, the rocks and ruins of the Roman Forum stretching out below us.

Tourists crowd in around tour guides holding up colourful umbrellas to make themselves stand out in the throng.

I’m surprised to see locals here, too – businesspeople on benches, talking loudly into their hands-free earpieces, families watching kids climbing on low walls.

I turn to Giulio. ‘Why—’

‘Nina wants you to see some of the sights, remember?’ he interrupts, tilting his chin towards the ruins, his voice casual, like he didn’t just swerve away from the bar and the man standing outside it.

I cross my arms, frustration boiling over. ‘You might think I’m some bumbling tourist, Giulio, but I’m not an idiot – that man back there...he was hanging around your Vespa the other day. Why are you avoiding him? And don’t tell me this is a sightseeing detour.’

Giulio runs a hand through his hair, the bright sun picking out the golden tones, especially in the tufts that are left sticking up.

I run a hand through my own to satisfy the strange urge to reach out and smooth his.

I’ve just taken my helmet off, but the frizzy mass is already hot to touch.

Maybe I’m overheating and that’s why my brain’s malfunctioning.

It’s like Nina says – I’m not used to the sun.

Giulio hoists himself on to a wall and kicks his heels against the stone. He’s obviously trying to think of a good excuse. I can tell the moment he gives up, because he lets out a long sigh and his feet go still.

‘That man...his name’s Bertolli. He works for the bank, but he’s got a thing for vintage Vespas and hinted he might accept the bike as a sort of down payment.’

‘Down payment?’ My confusion deepens. ‘For what?’

‘For the debts. To stop the bar being...’ Giulio pauses, his voice dropping to a whisper. ‘ Pignorato .’

‘Pignorato? What does that mean?’ For once, I don’t care that I’m showing my lack of Italian vocabulary.

‘The bank will take the bar away if the debt is not repaid in full,’ he explains, his expression grim.

Repossessed. It means repossessed. But the word still doesn’t make any sense. ‘How can the bank do that? Nina owns the bar outright, and the flat above. Ma told me.’

Giulio shakes his head. ‘Nina’s been borrowing against the property to keep the business afloat. But she’s fallen behind on the repayments. Far behind. I didn’t know anything about it until she went into hospital and I had to deal with the post.’

I press a hand to my chest to ease the painful squeeze of my heart. The bar that’s been in my family for generations is in danger of being taken away.

‘You can’t tell Nina the debt is being recalled...Not while she’s in hospital.’ Giulio’s voice is urgent, his eyes seeking mine...holding my gaze. ‘She needs to concentrate on getting better. I won’t have her worrying that there might not be anything to come back to.’

My mind races. All those times I thought Giulio was up to something shady – the letter, stealing money from the till, snooping in the paperwork – I had it completely wrong. He wasn’t taking from the bar; he was trying to save it. And I misjudged him. Completely.

Then there’s that call I overheard on the rooftop – he must have been talking to Bertolli, telling him not to send the letters to the bar in case Ma found out.

‘I get why you don’t want to worry Nina, but why hide it from us?’

Giulio’s lips twitch. ‘You and I haven’t exactly been friends.’

I squirm at his understatement. ‘True...but...what’s that got to do with Ma? If anything, she’s always on your side.’ I try to keep the bitterness from my voice.

‘The thing is...’ There’s a pause, and now it’s Giulio who’s uncomfortable. ‘Nina asked me to keep an eye on her, so I wasn’t—’

‘Wait.’ I cut him off, my voice rising. ‘You’ve been spying on Ma? For Nina? Are you kidding me?’

Giulio holds up his hands. ‘No! It’s not like that. Nina just asked me to report back on any...private meetings. That’s all. And if it makes you feel any better, I haven’t said anything.’

I narrow my eyes. ‘Not even about Ma and Signora Pedretti’s little chats?’ Although, as I say it, I remember Nina seeming to reprimand him about that very thing.

Giulio shakes his head. ‘If Caterina knew about the debt, she’d go straight to Nina. And I want to come up with a solution first...if I can. I want to offer Nina hope, not add to her worries.’

I press my fingers to my temples, torn between the guilt of keeping Ma in the dark and the fear of burdening Nina when she’s already vulnerable. ‘So, what...we say nothing?’

‘Buy some time with the Vespa, I suppose.’ Giulio looks at the sky, his expression pained. ‘Give Bertolli what he wants.’

‘But it belonged to your nonna! Your actual family.’ I surprise myself with the strength of my outburst. I mean, what do I care about his Vespa? Or him, for that matter.

Still, I don’t like how Giulio’s whole body shrinks away from me...or the challenge in his voice when he speaks. ‘Nina and I might not be related by blood, but I told you, she’s been there for me my whole life. I owe her.’

Sunshine gleams off the Vespa. ‘So, you’d actually give it up?’

Giulio folds forwards, elbows on his knees. He mumbles, but I can’t tell if it’s because his chin is cupped in his hands or if he’s reluctant to say the words. ‘If it saves the bar...if it buys Nina more time... allora sì , I’ll give it up.’

I believe him. He’d be willing to sacrifice something of his nonna’s to help Nina...for my nonna. And while my feelings are tangled up about that, surprise knotted with jealousy, I’m all too aware I’m only here for the summer and not sure I have any right to be part of this at all.

‘What if Ma already knows about the debts?’ I blurt, grasping at straws.

‘There’s nothing in the paperwork she’s been looking at, and I haven’t heard her mention anything to your dad...’ An uncharacteristic flush appears on Giulio’s neck. ‘I was trying to get information,’ he adds, hurriedly. ‘A way to help Nina – money I didn’t know about. Anything.’

I fold my arms across my chest. He’s been spying and eavesdropping, as I suspected all along. ‘Are you keeping any more secrets? Do you know what Ma and Signora Pedretti have been whispering about?’

‘I don’t, Scotland. I promise. But Nina’s right. Signora Pedretti loves to meddle. When you were in class, she had that new phone of hers out, asking me to video-call Flaminia. Then she remembered an “errand” and left us to it. Honestly, you’d think she bought that phone just to get us together.’

I swallow this information, but for some reason it sticks in my throat.

Unaware of my inner turmoil, Giulio slides off the wall.

‘Come on, Scotland. I can’t avoid Bertolli for ever. And now that you know, maybe you can help me.’