Someone to Love (19 page)

Lukas crept between us. “Mum, will you stop crying?” he asked in a strained voice. “Mia, will you teach us something new?”

Gemma leaned over to kiss him. “Of course, she's all yours.”

Bubu was lying on the grass, caressed by the many small hands.

“You're a tart!” I cried, watching him. He got up and slid to my side. “What would you like to learn? Some curiosity about the animal world?”

Lukas' hand came up first. “Why do dogs bite? I heard some bad news on the television.”

The question surprised me for its originality. I frowned and showed them Bubu's teeth. “Dogs have very sharp teeth. The size depends on the breed and age, a bit like us humans. You, for example, have smaller teeth than your parents.” I made sure I was expressing myself simply and clearly. “They are used mainly for eating… you see these? But a dog doesn't have any other means of defending itself. We can use our arms, hands, feet, but they only have their teeth.”

Lukas stared at me. “And why did the dog attack a child?” he rephrased the question.

I sighed. “Because often owners don't educate their dogs very well. They don't understand what they need, so often it happens that they use violence to make themselves heard.”

“Is Bubu bad?”

I shook my head. “Bubu is a good dog. He's loved and grew up in an environment where he's respected. We must learn to know our four-legged friends, to understand their characters and moods. There is always a reason behind their actions.”

“Is he always like this?” Martina asked.

“He's not always like this, but most of the time, yes. There are dogs that are born bad, but what happens to them can affect their behaviour.”

“May I ask you something?” Martina leaned against me. “Can Bubu have puppies?”

Lukas put his hand to his forehead, catching her eye. “Can't you see that he has a willy?” he cried, almost annoyed.

“I don't look at willies and neither should you!” cried the little girl, sticking her tongue out at him.

“You're too young to understand,” said Lukas, shrugging.

Those two were a force of nature.

Bubu lay down and waited, with his nose resting on his front paws.

“He's a boy, but certainly one day he'll become a daddy. I would like to keep one of his puppies.” I said, winking at Martina.

“Will you give me one?” she asked, excitedly.

Her grandfather protested. “Honey, I've already got one at home.”

“Grandpa, Birillo is really small, and I want a big one.” and she spread her arms dramatically.

The grandfather laughed. “We'll see, little one.”

“Will you bring Casper next time? I bought a present for him,” implored Martina.

“Of course, I'll bring both of them next time,” I promised, nodding.

Lukas's expression betrayed his emotion. He jumped up, running behind me.

A touch startled me. I turned round and saw Roberta, the nurse.

“Children! I didn't want to tell you, but it's time for dinner. Come on!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands. “Go back to your rooms.”

“Not yet, please,” crooned Martina pitifully.

“The rules are the rules, I'm sorry,” she re-iterated firmly.

“Okay…” complained Martina. “Will you come and visit us tomorrow?” she asked with a note of hope. “I'll wait for you here every day.”

“I'll try,” I said.

The children left with their families, and Roberta stayed behind for a moment. “Thank you, Mia, for what you do. The children are taking their medication more easily and I see they are happier.” She paused, sighing. “Unfortunately, I've heard that someone doesn't like these visits much. But don't worry, there's always someone that has to ruin good things. I'll keep you informed.”

A knot tightened in my throat. Maybe I could imagine who didn't like my visits to the hospital.

“Thank you, you'd do me a favour.” I waved, walking away with Bubu.

I lay down on the rocking chair on the entrance porch, arranged a soft pillow behind my back and closed my eyes. After all that had happened with Alberto, those children were the only thing that cheered me up. I raised my eyelids and a shadow detached itself from the wall and headed towards me.

“Feeling weak?” asked a man's voice.

“Lord, please don't disturb me,” I whispered softly, annoyed.

Diego moved my feet and sat down next to me. “You know you look great? I forgot to tell you that your new hair cut and colour really suit you,” he said with sincerity and a hint of admiration.

I put my hand around my neck: I always did it when I was embarrassed. “I wanted a change, but straight hair isn't for me. It won't last long,” I couldn't prevent my voice from trembling slightly. “I was just resting. I still have half an hour of freedom before I go back to work.”

Diego shook his head. “Today we're going somewhere. The boss just called and wants me to come with you. You know, to get acclimatized,” he said, tickling the sole of my foot.

I pulled it away nervously. “I don't know if I can, I have to speak to the others,” I said flatly.

“As you please, but it's all arranged.”

My eyes widened and I fished for the phone in my pocket to call Fiamma. Unfortunately, she confirmed Diego's assertion. I was stuck, I had to go with him.

“Where are we going?” I asked doubtfully.

“It is near the equestrian centre. They reported a dog on a chain inside a private property. It's in very bad condition. We have already left a notice, but they haven't responded. We must check that the dog is still there and, if we still can't get any feedback, we'll have to go in and get it, with or without the owner's permission,” he added finally.

“No problem. If I'm obliged to go with you, I want to use my car,” I said gravely.

“Ok, if it's just that…” he said, watching me. “Do you want to stay here for much longer or can we go?”

I snorted. “Yes, just a moment! I'll get the keys.”

Once in the car, Diego directed me without hesitation. Considering he had only recently arrived from Apulia, he seemed very familiar with the place, in fact, I could have sworn he knew the area better than I did.

“Has something serious happened?”

Receiving no answer, I turned to look at Diego. He was staring out of the window, looking enchanted, observing something.

“You okay?” I asked, worriedly.

He nodded. His eyes were bright.

I went down a side road on the left, tense because of the situation, until a green plain dotted with houses appeared before our eyes. They were low, mostly in red brick, with sloping roofs and rectangular windows. We passed a tiny town centre and Diego's voice, which until then had been silent, almost frightened me.

“Park here,” he said, pointing to a gravel courtyard on the left.

I pulled over and turned the engine off. I walked behind him, following quietly him to the wrought iron gate, on which the first warning was still posted.

Diego pulled a form from a folder and began to fill it out.

I began to look around the property.

I stopped and glanced inside the courtyard. A strong odour, coming from a waste pipe, hit my nostrils. I put my hand to my mouth to stifle the nausea.

Around the house ran a fence of iron railings, like those of a prison. Looking to my right I clearly saw a shabby kennel and part of a rusty chain. I called the dog, careful not to raise my voice too much, hoping it was inside and still alive.

A white muzzle with brown streaks emerged from the kennel. Bright eyes watched me from under a mop of matted hair.

I bent down and continued to call gently. The dog came out and tried to get closer, but the length of the chain prevented him from moving far. The chain was too short and the collar too tight, to the point where it was causing open sores. I feared that the wounds could become infected. However the things that worried me most were the filth and the dog's obvious malnutrition: I saw no bowl next to the kennel, just a battered aluminium pot containing stagnant water. All around there were muddy pools of water and excrement. The stench was intense.

The poor creature hadn't been brushed or washed for who knows how long. His coat was muddy and full of knots and parasites. I didn't dare imagine the fleas and ticks nestling in his most intimate parts.

The dog was young and apart from being in poor condition, appeared to be generally healthy, however he couldn't continue to live in those conditions. I noticed that in the adjacent house there was an elderly woman who might know something about the situation. I walked over to her, and when I was a few steps away, I asked: “Excuse me, do you know who the owner of the dog is?”

The old woman abandoned the laundry she was busy hanging out and turned towards me. “Vaguely. I don't even remember his face. I rarely leave the house, but I hear that dog cry every day. You should hear it…” For a few moments the woman couldn't seem to find the words to continue. “I wake up in the middle of the night and can't sleep for the constant howling.”

“We are leaving a second notice to the owner, because they must go to court,” I explained, trying to re-assure her. “If they don't reply within three days, we will be forced to take the dog away, although I doubt if he'll care. If you happen to meet him by any chance, please inform him of the possible legal consequences,” I concluded drily, making the contempt I felt for that man clear.

The old woman nodded and walked away after saluting me.

I went back to Diego, who in the meantime had posted the new warning on the gate.

“God knows how many parasites it must have… look at the unhygienic conditions: no food or clean water,” I snapped, barely containing my anger.

He bent down and looked through the fence. The more I looked at him, the more I read pain in his eyes and didn't know how to classify it. That image was incompatible with the impression I had of him at first. I knew little about Diego and still remembered all the reasons why I hadn't trusted him, but at that moment I felt I could.

“It's disgusting. He can't stay in this place much longer.”

I looked at the flat, grey sky above us. The weather threatened imminent rain and the air was damp and unbreathable.

“We should leave immediately,” I said, heading briskly towards the car.

Diego followed my advice and joined me a few metres from the vehicle.

“What?” I asked, once we were on board.

He placed a strand of hair behind my ear, a delicate and intimate gesture. “The humidity is ruining your hair,” he said, leaning back.

I moved the rear view mirror. My hair-do had already vanished, and some rebel locks were poking out mischievously. “Oh, come on, look here! Couldn't you have said something earlier?” I blurted out nervously, folding my arms across my chest.

Diego frowned. “I'm sorry? I didn't know I was also meant to be a meteorologist.”

I had another look and lost control. “You're only a source of trouble! It had to remain in place until tonight, and instead look. It sucks! I'm a mess!” I exploded.

“Hey, hey, lady, calm down a second. Let's get back to the city and you'll have all the time in the world to do your hair. Now think about your driving and be careful.” He turned to look out of the window.

I shrugged. “All right, your lordship Diego the Asshole,” I said, trying to keep control.

Diego didn't turn round, but looking at his reflection in the glass I noticed he had smiled. “So where did you want to go tonight?” he asked curiously. He looked in the glove box and put a CD in the player.

“I was supposed to go out. You know, you're not the only one to have a private life,” I informed him seriously.

Diego repeatedly pressed the controls, looking for a song he wanted to listen to. He didn't say a word. It was quite irritating to see him behave like that, he seemed angry with me.

The rain arrived and soon turned into a storm. I could hardly see the road ahead of us.

“What can I say?” said Diego softly, breaking our silence. “Good for you. Go out with people, have fun, but Alberto isn't right for you.”

Oh no. I was ready to listen to everything except a lecture from Diego.

“Sorry?” How dare he talk to me like that? “Look who's talking? You go out with the girl that…” I let the sentence drop unfinished.

Suddenly the car lost it's grip on the wet asphalt and in a split second I realized that we could end up in the canal that ran beside the road.

The car tilted to the left and the embankment appeared in front of us, only a few metres away. On instinct I swerved sharply the other way. I hit the brake pedal, the tyres skidded with a squeal and the car stopped sideways in the middle of the road.

“Just in time,” I managed to say, with my heart in my throat and my hands shaking heavily. Fear paralysed me for a moment.

Diego said nothing. He raised the collar of his jacket and got out to check the car.

“Kitten, we punctured a tyre.”

I glared at him. “Oh, fantastic!”

“I suppose you do have a spare tyre, don't you?” he said, staring at me.

My face instantly paled. A brief flashback passed before my eyes, faster and faster: the day when I removed the spare wheel to put the cage in.

Diego rolled his eyes and ran his hand through his hair. “No, I don't believe it. I can't believe it. You're really hopeless…” he accused me.

I grabbed my phone. “I'll call for help. They'll come and get us” I murmured, typing the emergency number.

Diego continued to stare at me angrily as I spoke to the assistance, constantly imitating my voice whilst talking to himself.

“So what did they say?” he asked, as soon as the call ended.

I shook my head. “It will take a few hours. The storm is creating havoc and they currently have no means of getting here. He reckons about two hours,” I said sulkily.