She finds Pip in the bat room, curled up on the old sofa. His hair is messed and greasy; he’s still in his pyjamas. He has Peggy on his lap and the puppy sits up when Clare comes in, staring, perking her ears. Pip frowns at the puppy like she’s misbehaved in some way, and as Clare walks across to them she finds herself holding her breath. Her footsteps echo in the rafters; light pours in through the windows and dazzles her. From high on the wall, that one watching eye of the mural stares down, and Clare tries not to think about everything it has witnessed that summer. She comes to stand right in front of the couch and Pip still won’t look up, and fear makes her palms clammy. This is the moment when she’ll know if she’s lost him. This is the moment when she’ll know if their bond has survived, or has shattered under the strain.
‘All right there, Pip?’ she says, and can’t keep her voice even. Some emotion clenches his face, and his cheeks mottle with blood. She waits for a moment, in case he’ll speak, but when he doesn’t she turns her body slightly, towards the door. ‘It’s time to go, I think. Don’t you?’ She tries not to let the weight of everything sound in her voice; she doesn’t want him to feel it, or have to share it.
‘Home?’ he says hoarsely, almost whispering.
‘Home,’ she says. Then she holds out her hand to him, and they can both see it trembling. Pip looks away and opens his mouth, and seems afraid to speak.
‘I didn’t…’ His brows pinch together. ‘I didn’t mean to shoot him.’
‘I know you didn’t,’ Clare says at once. She waits a while, but Pip stays quiet. ‘Coming then?’ she says. She holds her breath again, until it burns and her heart lurches in protest. Then Pip gathers Peggy under one arm and takes Clare’s hand.
‘All right, Clare,’ he says.
Author’s Note
The Night Falling is a work of fiction. Though the town of Gioia del Colle is real enough, and much of the historical detail is as accurate as I can make it, some events have been omitted, altered or imagined to fit the story, while – I hope – remaining true to the era and to the social and political landscape. I trust that those in the know will forgive this use of artistic licence. While key historical figures including Di Vittorio, Di Vagno, Capozzi and De Bellis were real people, all characters with significant roles in the story are entirely fictitious, including Francesco Molino, the man Clare sees beaten by a fascist squad in Piazza Plebiscito.
In September 1921, the socialist political leader Giuseppe di Vagno was assassinated as he gave a speech in Mola di Bari. His killers were rumoured, though not proven, to have been hired by the landowners and proprietors of Gioia del Colle. By the early months of 1922, two years’ hard-won progress made by the peasants’ unions and by socialist local government had been almost completely undone by the rise of fascism and its use of violence and intimidation to weaken opposition, culminating in the fascist March on Rome and the commencement of Benito Mussolini’s dictatorship in October 1922.
The six workers killed at Natale Girardi’s masseria on 1 July 1920 were: Pasquale Capotorto, Rocco Orfino, Rocco Montenegro, Vincenzo Milano, Vito Falcone and Vito Antonio Resta. I placed Paola’s lover Davide amongst their number for the sake of the story. For a comprehensive account of the incident, I recommend L’Eccidio di Marzagaglia, an article by Ermando Ottani, available online. Historical works concerning this era of Puglian history are hard to come by in English. I have found Violence and Great Estates in the South of Italy by Frank M. Snowden (Cambridge, 1986) very useful for research purposes. For those who can read in Italian, La Memoria che Resta, edited by Giovanni Rinaldi and Paola Sobrero (Provincia di Foggia, 1981) is a moving collection of first-hand accounts of peasant life at the time.
Acknowledgements
I am hugely indebted to all the wonderful people I met during my stay in Gioia del Colle, who were so generous with their time and knowledge, and who, in several cases, let me snoop around their homes. Particular thanks to the endlessly enthusiastic and knowledgeable Angelo Coluccia; to Nicola Capurso, who arranged for me to be shown around several private masserie and shared some wonderful historical insights with me; ai Signori Bianco della Masseria Vallarta; ai Signori Mancino della Masseria Eramo; ai Signori Capurso della Masseria Capo Jazzo; a Valerio de Palma della Masseria La Signorella; al Prof. Pier Giorgio Castellana; e a Vito Santoiemma, for taking me around his incredible collection of historical artefacts linked to every sphere of town and peasant life in Puglia. The collection is available to view by appointment at his private museum, 117 Via Giuseppe di Vittorio, Gioia del Colle. Last but by no means least, my thanks to Bianca Alberelli, my wonderful Italian tutor – grazie mille per tutto!
My thanks to Genevieve Pegg at Orion for her knowledge, skill, and clear-sighted treatment of the manuscript; to my wonderful, wise, indispensable agent Nicola Barr; and to Susan Lamb and the whole team at Orion for their continued support, dedication and expertise. Thanks to my friends and family for always listening, for early reading and constant enthusiasm.
About the Author
KATHERINEWEBB was born in 1977 and grew up in ruralHampshire, England. She studied history at Durham University, has spent timeliving in London and Venice, and now lives in Berkshire, England. Having workedas a waitress, au pair, personal assistant, potter, bookbinder, libraryassistant, and formal housekeeper at a manor house, she now writesfull-time.
