Valentina sat down heavily in the chair beside mine with an ‘oof’. Her bump was straining at the fabric of her dress.

Francesco stayed distant, finishing his snack.

Valentina turned to Joe. ‘I’m sorry for what Vito did. If I could have stopped him, I would have, only he gets in such rages over nothing and—’

‘Don’t do that,’ Joe said. ‘Don’t ever apologise for anything Vito says or does. You’re not his keeper.’

‘But your eye… it’s still bruised.’

‘It’s nothing.’

Valentina looked down at her lap. She looked dreadful, as if she hadn’t slept for a week.

‘Where’s Vito today?’ I asked.

‘He’s looking after the pizzeria. I had to come to the antenatal clinic for a check-up.’ She put a hand on her belly. ‘The baby’s been a bit quiet lately. I was worried. I thought maybe the stress, you know, I thought it might have affected her – the baby, it’s a girl. But she’s okay. I’m okay. Even my blood pressure’s low. The midwife said: “Whatever you’re doing, keep on doing it, because the baby’s doing great.” Ha!’ She pushed the hair out of her eyes. ‘Francesco hates me talking about pregnancy stuff, he finds it excruciatingly embarrassing, don’t you, Ciccio?’ She smiled at her son, who rolled his eyes, put the rest of the hot dog into his mouth and then shook the crumbs from its wrapper.

Valentina watched him and smiled. She rubbed her temples with her fingertips.

‘Are you really okay?’ I asked her.

‘Tired. There was a long wait at the clinic and then I had to find Ciccio, and by the time we got to the bus station, we’d missed our bus. We’re going to be late back. Vito won’t be happy.’

‘We can give you a lift back,’ said Joe.

‘Oh no, I don’t want to put you to any trouble.’

‘We’re heading back to Porta Sarina now anyway.’

‘We are,’ I confirmed.

Francesco balled up the hot dog wrapper and tossed it into a bin. ‘Getting a lift will be better than telling him he’s got to open the pizzeria on his own,’ he said.

Valentina bit anxiously at the side of a fingernail.

‘He’ll go mental if we’re late,’ said Francesco.

‘Yes,’ said Valentina, ‘you’re right. Thank you. We’ll accept the lift.’

45

We returned to Fiat Two. Francesco and I squashed together into the back so Valentina could have the passenger seat. She laughed as she attempted to make the seat belt cross her body.

‘Oh mio dio!’ she laughed. ‘I’m like a whale!’

Francesco was embarrassed again and put his earbuds into his ears to listen to his music. He stared away, out of the window.