She nodded her agreement and accepted his proffered hand.
‘Stella, come with me.’ Marco lead them to the head of the piazza, right by the Fontana del Nettuno. Taking her by the hand, he said, ‘Allora, do you know what’s so special about where we are?’
‘Piazza del Pop—’
‘No. Nothing to do with the piazza. I mean, here. This very spot.’ He pointed to the high bricked wall which stood at her shoulders.
She shrugged and winced. ‘No. Should I?’
His eyes suddenly widened. ‘Ottimo! You are about to learn.’ Guiding her into position, Stella now stood with her left shoulder flush against the bricks. ‘Rest your weight here, and bring your ear to the wall.Così.’ He demonstrated and she copied.
‘What is it with us and walls? I’mnotgoing to paint this one for you.’
He chuckled. ‘No, no. Nothing like that.’ He adjusted her stance. ‘Now, I am going to walk over there.’ He indicated forty metres or so further along the wall. ‘When I am in position I want you to answer my call.’
‘Ok, sure.’ Stella reached for her satchel to retrieve her phone.
‘No, Stella. Not that kind of call.’ He waved her hand from her bag.
Brow furrowed, she asked, ‘What call are you talking about?’
‘Aspetta.’
His cheeky smile caused her to retreat and return to her position. She watched him jog the distance to the other end, then turn to face her.
With a wave of salute, Marco leaned into the wall.
Stella couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. How must they have looked?
Then, all of a sudden, Stella heard the unmistakable sound of Marco’s voice, clear as day. ‘Drin. Drin . . . Drin. Drin . . .’
‘What?’ She laughed, dropping her hands to her knees and doubling over.
His voice came again. ‘Drin. Drin . . .’
She stood tall and pressed her ear to the wall. Looking along its expanse, she saw him gesture to his coat pocket. With a giggle, Stella cleared her throat and pretended to retrieve a phone from her own front pocket, and mimed a swipe to answer the call. ‘Pronto?’ she answered. ‘How are you doing that?’
‘Stella, it’s just the acoustics of the wall.Shh! Back into character.’
‘Ok.Scusami.’ She straightened herself.
‘Drin. Dri—’
‘Pronto?’
‘Ah,sì. Is that Stella Chiaro?L’artista?’
‘Speaking. And this is?’
Marco responded, ‘I amyourPrincipe Azzurro. Here to protect you and save you from returning home.’
‘You have a job for me?’
‘No. Just a message.’
Her free hand dropped resolutely to her hip. ‘I’m listening.’
‘Destinowill keep you in Roma. Relax and let the magic do its work. Else you will spend the next few months miserable. And you will miss all the special memories Roma wants you to make.’
