Lorenzo pulls his hand away as a woman comes out of the shop and steps up to the railing to take photos of the scenery. When she is done, she gives us a cursory once-over and a thin smile before heading back inside.
“What do you mean?” I ask when we’re alone again.
“To do ordinary things. Drive wherever we want, see places together. Go home, cook a meal and watch television on the sofa together. That kind of thing.”
“Until I came here, I thought I had that life. I’m not sure I would trust it now.”
While we lapse back into silence, enjoying the last of the day’s sunshine, my gaze takes in the seascape before snagging on a luxury yacht anchored off the coast. A sudden memory sparks—panicked voices and screams, flames and pain. I flinch away from the sight and tell Lorenzo we ought to go before the sun sets.
He leads us back to Pensione Galli, knowing a few regulars will be there that evening. Lorenzo has coached me on how to movedifferently, less upright and rigid, and to lower the tone of my spoken voice—not that anyone in the bar is likely to remember Gabriel.
The outing works beautifully. Lorenzo leaves me to order beers while he heads off to chat with people he knows.SignorGalli singles me out and asks me questions in English. I’m amused because on my last visit as Gabriel, he intimated that he couldn’t speak the language.
“And how do you find our beautiful country?” he asks.
As coached by Romano, I pause to consider his questions before answering in blunt, grammar-perfect English.
“I admire your fresh produce and pasta. But everything else I find old and decrepit,” I reply bluntly. “Art, statues, buildings. Even the music you play everywhere is old-fashioned. Nothing is new or innovative.”
Galli’s eyes widen, my dismissive assessment almost making him choke.
“How can you not love opera? Have you listened to the works of masters like Puccini or Verdi? Music written for the gods, music to touch the soul.”
“I prefer music that sears the skin from the bones.” The personal file for Aksel stated that he had somewhat eclectic musical tastes. “Have you ever listened to Doom Death Metal? Bands like Trippelgänger from Aalborg in my home country?”
Galli looks at me with a mix of confusion and disgust, shakes his head, then makes an excuse to attend to another customer.
On our way home, Lorenzo barks out a laugh when I tell him the story, and I ask what words were exchanged between him and Galli as we left. Galli told Lorenzo he was welcome in the bar any time, but to leave the uncultured punk at home. I guess I made an impression that night.
At night, Lorenzo and I make as little noise as possible. We wait until Mrs Bellacci switches off the light in the living area,closes her bedroom door, then spend a precautionary half an hour on quiet foreplay—kissing, touching and sucking—giving her time to fall asleep before the heavy session begins.
“This new look is good on you,” he says, breathing deeply after wiping the cum from my chest. He has developed a habit of running his hand over my cropped head when we’re in bed. “But I cannot call you Aksel, not when we are together. You will always be Gabriel to me, the angel that descended into my life.”
I try hard to dismiss comments like this, but my stomach twists in knots every time. Apart from Albert, I have never allowed anybody to get close to me, but Lorenzo has breached my defences. And now I worry that what we have may be fleeting.
Dr Romano visits the villa each weekend, and I’m beginning to learn more about him. He’s a master of intelligence. Within days of locating the file, he has not only found the name of the hospital where Leblanc was taken but the number and location of the secure ward where she is being treated.
“Mrs Bellacci tells me your training is going well,” he tells me at the end of my second week of instruction. Each of us has a private one-to-one session with him after he has finished speaking to us as a group. “You pick things up quickly. Another three weeks and I will send you to London for your first assignment, after which you will visit Leblanc. The job I have for you is fairly simple. Access the hotel suite of a specific businessman and place surveillance devices in all the living areas. We would normally do this in advance of a person’s stay once we know the booking details, but this man rents three or four identical suites for his entourage, and only allocates them on the day they arrive. You should be in and out in an hour,but you’ll need to carry out surveillance for two or three days beforehand to become familiar with his comings and goings. Now, let’s talk about you.”
“About me?”
“We need to make sure no stones are left unturned. Who in England might worry about Gabriel? You mentioned working for a charity—”
“I do. I did. They’ve given me—Gabriel—three weeks’ compassionate leave.”
“Which will end soon. What will happen when you don’t report back?”
Romano is good at grounding me. I have been so focused on training and moving forward that I’ve lost sight of these small but essential details.
“I’m not sure. My connection with them was through Albert. I suppose they might contact Edward, but even if they did, I’m not sure he would give a damn. But if he said anything to Alice, that might be another matter altogether.”
“What about this friend called Josh? The one who knows you’re here?”
“They don’t know Josh.”
“Have you kept in regular contact with him?”
“Irregular. With him and his partner, Nishan. Out of everyone, they might be the ones to worry if they try to contact me and get no response.”