Page 45 of Villa of Secrets

‘I do.’

He stared at me for a moment. ‘I’ve just realised who you are, the girl with perfect pitch, from the shop in town.’ I smiled, pleased he remembered me. ‘Sing something now,’ he said.

‘Can’t. I’m not in the mood. Will you teach me some choir things, voice exercises?’

He nodded, our eyes met and for a moment I forgot everything. I found his company calming one minute and exciting the next. ‘What did you want to talk about?’ he said.

‘About the bandits. Do you really know them?’

‘Sure. They rely on shepherds to pass information. Same on all the islands.’

‘Will you take me to meet them, the Andartes?’

‘They’d kill me.’

I tutted. ‘You’re lying about knowing them, aren’t you?’

His head snapped round. ‘No! But I’d get into trouble if I brought a group of girls to their hideout. Anyway, they wouldn’t want to speak to strangers, would they?’

‘Then they’d be stupid. I could give them information about what went on at L’Aeronautica. But if they’re not interested, fine!’

‘What happened?’

‘Do you think I’m that unwise, Shepherd Boy? Take me to meet them and I’ll tell the leader of the rebels, nobody else.’

After a long silence he said, ‘All right, I’ll talk to them later, ask if they’ll see you.’

‘Do that, and hey, guess what? I’m not a girl, I’m a woman, so get used to it!’ Sometimes, I got sick of having to shout about my age to be taken seriously.

He huffed. ‘We must get the sheep. Your flock’s on the other side of the woods; it’ll take all morning to fetch them uphill.’ He put his hands on his hips and stared at the sheering pens. ‘Got to repair that fence first. The shearers leave soon, so we’d better move ourselves.’

‘You’re not listening; I need to speak with the Andartes!’ I yelled, standing up.

‘You all right?’ Irini’s voice came from behind me.

‘No, I’m not! This stupid . . .’ I bit my lip. Childish behaviour wouldn’t get me anywhere. ‘Sorry, Giovanni,’ I said. ‘I am grateful, but I feel so helpless.’

He nodded. ‘Let’s go and eat. Don’t know about you, but I’m starved.’

We returned to the hut where Evangelisa sat at the table gazing at the hunk of boiled mutton.

‘Look, Giovanni,’ I continued, ‘I’m in charge of the sheep. They’re my responsibility, so don’t worry about them. Get me to the Andartes. That’s all I ask.’

Irini’s eyes flicked to mine and widened. I gave her a nod. She returned to preparing the food, breaking bread into chunks, adding a sprinkle of oregano and salt followed by a drizzle of olive oil.

My stomach growled. Giovanni reached for the bread.

‘Wait!’ Evangelisa cried. ‘We must say the Hamotzi.’

‘What?’ Giovanni said.

‘Wash your hands.’ She nodded at the bucket of water by the table.

He dropped the bread, looked at his hands and said, ‘They’s clean.’

‘You can’t eat with us if you don’t,’ she said, shocking us all with her authority. ‘Dora, please say the Hamotzi.’

I grinned at Irini. This was a new side of my sister, and I liked it. ‘Blessed are You, O Lord our God, King of the universe, who has sanctified us with his commandments and commanded us on the washing of hands.’