He was almost shouting, very excited at the idea. Angela would just have been irritated by his speech if she hadn’t known that Ferruccio had a precise reason for saying these things. And it wasn’t that he preferred Teresa to her. In fact, he knew very well why it was that Angela sometimes left him with Teresa on Sundays. And because he didn’t much care for his brother-in-law, he was pleased that his
sister was enjoying herself a bit.
‘So you’ll tell your friend, yes?’
‘What?’
‘That I really like her. You’ve got to tell her.’
‘Fine, Fefe, I’ll tell her as soon as I see her.’
They sat there in silence for a few minutes. A dense group of people were chatting in front of the church of Santa Maria dei Servi, while others, beneath the portico, made their way to mass. Little boys were throwing snowballs under the skeletal lime-trees in Piazza Aldrovandi, while their parents laid siege to a patisserie. When they reached the towers, the taxi turned left into Via Castiglione.
Odoacre’s house was beyond the lower tower, where the road widened, allowing a glimpse of the keep of the old city walls. Beyond that boundary, the road climbed into the hills, a refuge for the very rich, in their luxury villas, and for unmarried couples, locked in their cars or lying in the grass.
Angela paid the driver and ran to the door, while Ferruccio was already blocking the path of their neighbour from the floor below to ask for his umpteenth cigarette.
The sun was peeping through the clouds, and it was less cold. She thought that she might still have time to change her shoes and take her brother to the Margherita Gardens. A Sunday without a stroll was not going to put him in the best of moods. And it wasn’t just that he needed to walk about and get some fresh air; for that, the park at Villa Azzurra would have done, and it was right on his doorstep. But without taking a nice walk among other people, how would Fefe ever collect the forty or fifty cigarettes he needed to hand out on Monday?
Chapter 11
Statement given on 25.1.1954 to Police Commissioner Pasquale Cinquegrana by Salvatore Pagano of unknown parents, suspected of the theft of an expensive television set of American manufacture from the military base of the Allied forces in Agnano, Naples
Fine, I get you. You’re saying someone saw me down at the base. Agnano, I mean. The Allied base in Agnano. But what does that mean? They might just have made a mistake, you know how it is in the dark, you think you’ve recognised a friend and instead it’s someone completely different. There, that’s what must have happened. What do you think? Loads of people can tell you I was at the party. I told you about the party last time, Epiphany party. At the Santa Teresa orphanage. Sure, giving presents to the little souls, why not? You can ask Sister Giuliana, if you want, it wasn’t dark there, she looked me right in the eyes, and we talked. And Sister Maddalena was there as well, you can ask her too. You’re not going to tell me that two nuns are going to lie to you, they’re the brides of Christ, you know the sisters, all prayers and good works, they don’t know what a lie is, or rather, don’t get me wrong, they do know, but they think that if someone lies the Madonna weeps, really, that’s what they used to say, you know what happens if you tell lies?
They brought me up. The nuns, I mean. Sister Giuliana and Sister Maddalena together. You can check, up until the age of thirteen I lived in the Santa Teresa Children’s Home, because in the end my mother had barely enough money to live, poor thing, and with her job, if you get me, a child was a heavy burden to carry. As to my father, well, I won’t say anything about him. Brothers and sisters? I expect I had a few of them as well, but no one’s ever told me.
So there you are, when you go to the nuns, ask them, ask them if I’m a criminal, as you put it. They’ll tell you no lies, you know that. Salvatore Pagano? He’s a good lad, that’s right, always around the horses, at the betting, but of course he is, he’s got a living to earn. Because the nuns aren’t so keen on betting either. If someone bets too much it makes St Teresa weep. That’s what they used to say. Every sin has its weeping saint, and the more serious the sin the more important the saint. But I’m sorry, I was talking to you about the nuns. Salvatore Pagano? He’s never stolen anything, that’s what they would tell you, apart from the odd sweet and, all right, maybe the odd cigarette and once, but just once, a bottle of wine from the cellar, but a television, that’s too much, and where would he put a television? No, no, Totore is a good lad, that’s what they would tell you.
And then, look, to prove to you that I really mean it, like in the confessional, apart from the sweets and the cigarettes and the bottle of wine, that time, but only that one time, ok, there was one other thing. And I don’t think the sisters would tell you this, because they were also, in this case, you know what I’m talking about, right? And this is really the most serious thing that I’ve ever done, my intentions were good, I can assure you of that, a decent thing, yes, sir, because the sisters would never have let me do it otherwise, I was still living half with them at the time. Yes, half, in the end, half in half out, in the daytime I was left to myself, and in the evening I went back to them to sleep. I was thirteen at the time.
I told you, didn’t I, that there are some friends, not many of them, and other ones as well who just know me as Totore ’a Maronna? No, no, don’t worry, I’m not changing the subject again. It has something to do with this serious but decent thing that I did a long time ago, that thing with the nuns. Right, so I was telling you, that’s what they called me, Totore ’a Maronna, because I, not on my own, right, but with other people, I made the Madonna weep. Because some lies were told, you say? That’s a manner of speaking. No, I’ve never made those Madonnas weep by telling lies. They really did weep. That is, not really, it wasn’t a real miracle, it was a lie, but they were weeping, goodness me, haven’t you worked it out? I’ll try and put it more clearly, ok: those people I was with, they used to help some other people, some very important people, big nobs. Those big nobs went around loads of different villages around Naples, places like Acerra, Marano, Afragola, they talked about their stuff, they did propaganda, they told people about their plans. And when these people, and almost everyone was still there, down below the stage, and those big nobs were talking up on the stage, then we would turn up. That is, the other people and me. And it’s not as if I had to do a lot, they would send me into the church in the village, along with the parish priest, he was with us as well, and after a while I had to run out like a madman saying I had seen the Madonna weeping, that it was a miracle, quick! an old woman who was with me had fainted with fear. And those other people who were with me had put a water pump inside the little statue of the Madonna, and she really was crying, that is, not really, it wasn’t a miracle, but in the end it looked as though she was crying. But other times you didn’t have to, it was enough for the people in the village to see the boy and the little old woman saying yes, the Madonna had wept, they had seen it with their own eyes, while that big nob was saying that we had to vote for him, put your cross on the cross, otherwise no Madonna, no Italy, people would come who ate babies and. Don’t you want to hear this story? Do you know it already? Fine, fine, that’s all I’m going to say, I told you it was pretty serious, but I wanted to tell you everything, like in the confessional, but it was those people who really introduced me to the nuns and told me that in the end there were lies and lies, and that was a lie for a good end, you must have told white lies yourself, this was one of those, and it was good because by telling them we saved Italy in ’48, me and those others. And fine, you’re not interested, I’d worked that out, I’ll stop in a minute, but that was why some of my friends, but not many, and others as well, call me Totore ’a Maronna — Salvatore of the Madonna. I kind of prefer Kociss.