Giovanni pulled on the oars with a powerful and steady rhythm and with each stroke the little dinghy surged forward, the emerald and turquoise of the Tyrrhenian Sea glistening behind the wooden keel.
‘I thought you said you would rather be working on Professor Rosselli’s assignment?’
‘It’s a toss up, but this probably wins,’ Allegra said, half opening one eye. ‘Where are you taking me, Giovanni Donelli?’ she asked, feeling strangely mischievous. ‘Because I’m not sure Cardinal Petroni would approve.’
‘Well, I wasn’t planning on telling him, but there’s a little cove around the next point. Papa used to take us there for picnics when we were kids. You can only get to it from the sea so the whole family would get in the fishing boat and he would anchor it off the rocks and row us ashore.’
‘ Sei fortunato! You’re very lucky to have grown up here. Do you know this is the first time I’ve ever been in a boat?’
‘Really?’ For a moment Giovanni was surprised, then he laughed. ‘I don’t suppose they have many dinghies in Tricarico. We’ve been spoilt here. I miss the sea.’
The two fell into an easy silence, punctuated only by the rhythmic thud of the oars in the rowlocks. Allegra let her hand dangle over the side, watching the sandy bottom through the crystal water. At first she had been apprehensive and had thought about telling Giovanni her secret but the day had dawned so beautifully and the breeze was so light that the Gulf of Policastro held only the gentlest of swells, and fears. The Apennine promontory was covered in small pine trees and as they rounded the point and the little beach came into view, Allegra felt completely at peace with the world.
The keel grated gently on the grey stony sand and Giovanni shipped the oars and helped Allegra out of the dinghy. Together they carried the rug and the picnic basket up the beach onto a small tongue of grass under some pines.
‘Swim before lunch?’
Allegra’s peace was suddenly shattered. ‘Giovanni…’ She hung her head. ‘I’ve been meaning to tell you. I can’t…’
Giovanni was suddenly concerned and he took her gently by the shoulders. ‘Can’t what? Is something wrong?’
‘I can’t-’ she stammered. ‘I can’t swim,’ she blurted out and coloured with embarrassment.
Giovanni gently lifted her chin with his finger so their eyes met.
‘My fault. And I could kick myself. I should have realised that when you said this was your first time in a boat. Were you really saying this is your first time on the coast?’
Allegra nodded.
‘Hey,’ he said quietly. ‘Think of it as another one of life’s little adventures. If you feel up to it we’ll just wade in up to here.’ Giovanni measured his hand against Allegra’s slender waist. ‘And I’ll give you your first lesson, deal?’
Allegra nodded again, still miserable.
‘Only if you smile.’
‘Thank you,’ she said gratefully.
He took her hand and guided her down to the water’s edge. ‘It’s pretty natural to feel nervous but trust me, if you need to you can reach the bottom. The first thing I will show you is how to float. Watch this.’
Allegra followed him into the warm water and with Giovanni’s hands supporting her, she allowed herself to be coaxed onto her back. Then she panicked and flung her arms around him, coughing and spluttering.
‘I’ve got you. I’ve got you. Rilarssasi. Relax,’ he said softly, holding her.
‘You must think I’m such an idiot,’ she said, her head down, arms still around his neck.
‘You should have seen me on the end of a rope off the breakwater with Papa holding the other end. I was terrified.’
His voice was steady and reassuring but as Allegra raised her head her thoughts were thrown into confusion. Carlo had been a terrible transgression but somehow this was different. This seemed like a natural force that was overwhelmingly strong. How could something that felt this right be so wrong in the eyes of the Church.
‘Want to try again?’ Giovanni’s voice sounded strangely hoarse as Allegra laid back in his arms. At first he supported her and then he slowly let her sink until the only thing holding her up was the Tyrrhenian, and a trust in this man who seemed even more pleased than she was at her achievement.
Back on the beach the sun was warm on Allegra’s shoulders as she opened the picnic basket Giovanni’s mother had packed.
‘Olives, smoked fish, fresh bread, pickled onions – your mother must have thought we were coming for a week!’
‘Now that would start people talking,’ he said, handing her a plastic cup. Little rivulets of condensation dribbled down the sides of the bottle of Bianco Malvasia as Giovanni filled their glasses.
‘ Salute! ’
‘ Salute! And thank you for the swimming lesson,’ she said, conscious again of how close they were sitting.
‘You were a natural. Well, almost,’ he said, his blue eyes dancing as Allegra grinned sceptically. ‘Another couple of lessons and you’ll be swimming the bay from point to point.’
‘Can we come back here again one day?’ Allegra asked, handing Giovanni a roll with a little of everything from his mother’s hamper.
‘Probably, although it is hard on both of us, non e vero?’ Giovanni mused, for the first time putting his own inner struggle into words.
Allegra nodded, acknowledging her own feelings. ‘Why did you become a priest, Giovanni?’
‘That part wasn’t hard. A deep love for the Church. A need to give my best to those around me, and the fact that I would follow Christ wherever he sent me,’ he said, smiling warmly.
‘Do you know where he is going to send you?’
‘No. And I think that is only revealed bit by bit. Who knows where we will end up after university?’
‘It would be nice if we could finish up somewhere together,’ she responded, the wine dissolving her inhibitions.
Giovanni took Allegra’s cup and put it next to his on the sand. His lips were salty as she moulded herself against his body. Giovanni held her more tightly and she found herself responding, willingly. Allegra found herself searching out Giovanni’s tongue with her own.
‘Oh, Giovanni.’
Giovanni was torn.
‘Allegra,’ Giovanni whispered. He fumbled with the clip on her swimsuit and she reached around to help him. Her small breasts were wet with beads of saltwater, her nipples hard and erect. Allegra groaned as he licked them softly and gently took them in his mouth.
That night both had knelt for a long time asking forgiveness. Accettazione. Now they lay awake. Confused and uncertain. Allegra stared out of her window at the night sky. Her room was upstairs, next to Giovanni’s at the front of the house. The lights from the marina were subdued and a light breeze feathered the Tyrrhenian below.
Why? she asked her God for the hundredth time. Why was this so wrong? She knew the episode with Carlo had been wrong, but this was so different. Testarda. Brilliant, gentle Giovanni, and so much fun to be around. He was someone she felt she could spend the rest of her life with, helping him achieve whatever it was that God wished him to achieve. Someone from whom she had learned so much. Someone with whom she was now deeply in love. Yet the Church forbade it. Why? Allegra began to sob, silently. Sobs born of desperation and frustration, and an increasing questioning of her faith.
In his room Giovanni was on his knees again praying for forgiveness to a God who, tonight, seemed very, very distant, silent, immoveable. He had asked for forgiveness, but he felt alienated because his feelings for Allegra were stronger than ever. Alienation from his God was new territory for Giovanni. He tried to distance his heart from his head, but that didn’t help. As a young seminarian he had accepted celibacy without too much thought. It had not seemed an extreme price to pay to serve Christ, until now. Giovanni opened his eyes and stared up into the night sky and the galaxies that stretched for billions of light years. Years of study, as both a theologian and as a scientist, had caused him to think more deeply, and never more deeply than tonight, struggling with the Church’s hypocrisy on sex. A Church that taught one thing, yet often secretly practised another. Giovanni knew that many Catholics were unaware that for a thousand years after Christ, Catholic priests had been happily married and were more effective because of it. Then in 1074 Pope Gregory VII, while keeping a mistress himself, had decreed that priests could only owe allegiance to the Church. Thousands of married priests ‘were to be freed from the influence of their wives’ and divorced. Giovanni also knew there was a more sinister reasoning behind the damaging policy of celibacy; the early Church had moved to protect her vast holdings of property because there had been a danger at law that the children of priests might inherit that property and deprive the Church of an accumulation of wealth.