“It’s possible, but even if they do, Rome can veto just about any piece of legislation they put forth.”
We talked for a little while longer about how a communist win in Sardinia might or might not affect the central government. Teo was easy to talk to, and he never made me feel like I should be seen and not heard.
“Shall we sit?” said Francesca finally, and steered us toward the table, where Bernardo encouraged me to take the chair next to Teo’s.
“This is so lovely,” I said. “Thanks for having me.”
“How do you say it in Italian?” Francesca teased from the kitchen as she plated the culurgiones.
“Grazie per invitato.”
“Grazie per avermi invitato,” she said, and I repeated her version word for word.
The culurgiones were the first course, and they were every bit as good as Francesca had promised they would be. “Eileen made these,” she bragged.
“That’s why they look a little lopsided,” I said.
“They’re perfect,” said Teo before he’d even had a bite.
“Buonissimi!” said Bernardo.
Everyone agreed, then Francesca said, “Perhaps, along with learning Italian, you need to learn to make pasta.”
“Is it hard?”
“She’ll tell you it’s easy,” Teo warned. “But she makes everything look easy.”
“I can teach you,” Francesca offered, and I said I thought Paul would probably appreciate that, because thus far all I’d managed to make was a very average cacio e pepe.
“Has Paul said anything about the U.S.S.Mirfield?” Teo asked when Francesca had cleared our plates and returned to the table with the main course.
“Is this the sub you were telling me about?” I asked Francesca, and Teo shot her a look.
“What?” she said. “I just told her what you told me.”
“Paul hasn’t said anything,” I added. “But that’s why you’re here on the island? You’re reporting on theMirfield?”
“I’m trying to,” he said. “But nothing makes sense. The master-at-arms arrested eighteen men as they were coming out of the hatch in Santo Stefano. And there’s word that more arrests might be coming.”
“What’d they do?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” said Teo.
“What do you think they did? If you had to guess?”
He shrugged. “I’d say drugs. But eighteen men is a lot. And they’re not just sailors. They arrested the chief of the boat and the XO.”
“It can’t be drugs,” said Francesca, adamantly. “I refuse to believe that anyone—even Americans—could be that stupid.”
It did seem stupid, although Paul had told me a couple of stories from hisSand Lancedays that seemed to suggest American submariners knew how to have a good time.
“How’d you find out about all this?” I asked Teo.
He liked this question. I could tell by the way his lip curled up on one side. “Your brig isn’t big enough to hold eighteen men. Not by half. So the commodore had to make other arrangements.”
I waited for him to say what those arrangements were.
“Most of the men were transferred to the Italian navy’s barracks.”
