Page 32 of The Tuscan Child
“I will do my best for you,” she said. “Let us try this and see if it can disinfect the wound.” She took the small bottle of grappa. “Good. You have not drunk it all.”
She ripped a strip from the old sheet, then soaked it in the grappa. He screamed in pain as she washed the wound, then was ashamed of himself and bit into his lip to stop from screaming again.
“I have done my best,” she said. “It seems to be clean. Of course I do not know what it is like inside or if the bullet has damaged some blood vessel. We can only hope.”
He watched as she made a pad of clean linen then bound it to his leg.
“You have no more morphine?” she asked.
“I’m afraid not. Just the one syringe, and I used that.”
“No more medicines?”
He examined the first aid kit. There were a couple of small sticking plasters, big enough for a cut on the finger, and a strip of aspirins.
“I have these.”
“Aspirin. They will help take your fever down. That is good. But you should not become too cold.” She reached up inside his jacket. “Your shirt is quite wet, too, but I do not think we should try to remove it. Let us pull up your trousers quickly and then I will wrap you in your blanket and the parachute.”
She eased his trousers over the wound with great care, then up over his hips in a businesslike manner. Then she went to get water and held his head as he sipped it and swallowed four aspirin.
“And I have brought you more of the bean soup,” she said. “You need nourishment. Can you eat a little?”
She took the covering from the basin and held him propped up against her as she fed him. He tried a few mouthfuls, then fell back against her, exhausted.
“You must eat. You must stay strong,” she said.
“I can’t. I’m sorry.”
She got up then, easing him back against his pillow. “I will go back to the village and see what medicines they have at the pharmacy that I can ask for without causing suspicion. Alcohol for your wound, that will be no problem. I have used all the grappa. I do not think they will give me a sulpha drug without a prescription, but I can try. I’ll tell them that Renzo has a sore throat. It is true that he does, but only with a cold. Nothing serious. Then I will try to come back tonight.”
“You are so good to me,” he said. “If this stupid war is ever over and I reach my home, I will try to make it up to you. I will send your son to a good school. Buy you more goats. Whatever you want.”
“Let us not talk of the future,” she said, giving him a sad smile. “Who knows what it may bring. We are all in the hands of God and the holy saints.”
Then she tucked him in as if he was a little child, wrapping the parachute around him. “Rest now.” She stood up. “See. I leave you water to drink, and the rest of the soup, if you can try to eat it. I think you should try.” She wagged a finger at him, making him smile.
“Very well. I will try.”
As she walked away, he wondered if it would be the last time he would see her.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
JOANNA
June 1973
Paola had clearly been waiting for me. She looked relieved when she opened the front door. “Oh, Signorina Langley,mia cara. There you are. I was worried that something had happened to you. I said to Angelina that you surely would not want to be out alone in the dark. What would you be doing?”
“I am so sorry, Signora,” I said. “I talked to the men who sit in the piazza, and they insisted that I join them for a glass of wine. Then they ordered bruschetta and it would have been rude to refuse. I told them I was eating dinner at your house, but they said you would not eat until very late.”
Paola laughed. “It is no problem, my little one. I was merely concerned for your safety. Not that I think you run the risk of being unsafe in this village, but there are dark alleyways where you can trip and hurt yourself. Now come, sit. The dinner awaits us.”
I followed her down the hall and was ushered into a dining room, this time with a table elegantly set with candles on it. Angelina was already there. The baby slept in its cradle at her feet.
“You see, Mamma, I told you she would be safe,” Angelina said. “She is a girl from London, from a big city. She knows how to take care of herself and watch out for danger.”
I laughed. “I did have to say no when the man called Gianni offered to take me home,” I said. “I thought he was a little too friendly.”
