If You Could Go Anywhere

by Paige Toon

  ‘They have a bit of gold in them,’ he maintains, turning my face towards him. We’re about four inches away from each other, staring into each other’s eyes. Oddly, I don’t feel uncomfortable.

  It’s about then that I decide I could never fancy Stefano.

  Alessandro gets up and collects a few empties from the table before disappearing inside.

  ‘Let me go, I need the loo,’ I tell Stefano.

  I’m a little unsteady on my feet as I stand and gather some empty bottles. I take them to the kitchen where Alessandro is sorting out the recycling.

  ‘I’m going to call it a night,’ he tells me.

  ‘Don’t leave me with him!’ I protest, jokily.

  ‘You’re not interested?’

  I shake my head and pull a face. ‘No! I’m still convinced he’s gay.’

  ‘I think you’ll discover tonight that he’s not.’

  ‘What?’ I wave my hand dismissively. ‘I need the loo,’ I mutter, zigzagging into my bedroom.

  When I come out again, Alessandro is reading the postcard I received yesterday – I left it out on the dresser in the hall.

  ‘Do you mind?’ he asks, glancing up at me.

  ‘Not at all. I doubt it’ll be very interesting if you don’t know him, though.’

  ‘You say that, but what on earth is your “old spaceship”?’

  I laugh and tipsily lean against the wall. ‘If you hadn’t disappeared when we were with your family in Tivoli, then you’d know that they filmed a movie in Coober Pedy called Pitch Black. Have you heard of it?’

  ‘It rings a bell.’

  ‘It’s a space movie. The film crew left behind a spaceship in the town centre. I had my first kiss inside it,’ I tell him with a cheeky grin.

  ‘With…’ he studies the name on the postcard. ‘Pieter?’

  ‘Exactly.’ Aussie-born son of German immigrants. ‘He was my first love.’

  ‘And he’s a photographer now?’

  Pieter says in his card that he’s recently done a fashion shoot in Coober Pedy, using ‘our’ old spaceship as a backdrop for a couple of shots.

  ‘Yes, quite a good one,’ I reply to Alessandro. ‘It’s what he always wanted to do.’

  What are you good at? What are you passionate about?

  Those were the questions I’d ask friends who were struggling to decide what they wanted to do with their lives – that’s if I didn’t already know the answers, which more often than not, I did.

  ‘Why does he say, “And all because of you”?’ Alessandro asks.

  I shrug. ‘I encouraged him to do it, helped him to line up work experience with some photographers. Wrote a few letters and urged him to chase his dream.’

  English was never Pieter’s best subject, whereas I was quite good at it – and school generally.

  ‘You mean so much to the people you’ve left behind,’ he muses thoughtfully, turning the postcard over and placing it on the dresser.

  ‘I didn’t leave Pieter,’ I correct him. ‘He left when he was eighteen. He lives in Sydney and is a fashion photographer now. His pictures are often featured in magazines.’

  ‘So you encouraged your first love to leave you behind to follow his dreams. Who encouraged you to leave and follow your dreams?’

  ‘Everyone did,’ I reply, sobering.

  He cocks his head to one side, his brows pulling together quizzically.

  ‘They all knew I wouldn’t abandon Nan, but when she passed away, everyone gave me opals to fund my trip. I sold all but one of them. It was so special, I couldn’t part with it.’

  He looks taken aback. ‘Can I see it?’

  ‘Sure. It’s in my bedroom.’

  I flick on the overhead light and get the opal out of the bedside table.

  ‘Who gave this to you?’ he asks with wonder, tilting it one way and then the other.

  ‘I don’t know. It’s a mystery. They were all donated anonymously.’

  ‘Amazing,’ he murmurs.

  ‘Some people think opal is gaudy, but I think it’s beautiful.’

  ‘It reminds me of the Northern Lights,’ he says. ‘The greens and blues, at least.’

  ‘I would love to see them. Have you?’ I ask.

  He nods. ‘A few years ago.’

  ‘Wait. Check this out.’ Hunting out my special UV torch, I turn it on and switch off the main bedroom light. The opal glows like something out of a science fiction film. ‘People use these when they go noodling.’

  ‘Noodling?’

  ‘Fossicking, but specific to opal.’ I explain how people sift through the rock piles, searching for opal the miners have missed. ‘Other things also glow in the dark. You have to be really careful after it’s been raining as all of the scorpions come out.’

  ‘The scorpions light up?’

  ‘Yes,’ I reply as his arm brushes against mine, the warm heat of him colliding with my skin. I didn’t realise how close we were standing in the darkness.

  Stefano bursts into the room and stumbles towards the en suite, slamming the door shut behind him.

  We both laugh and I walk across the room to turn on the bedside lamp.

  ‘I think Cristina has been without a flatmate for too long,’ I say drily. ‘I don’t mind you using my bathroom,’ I add hastily as he hands me the opal.

  ‘I was about to take the hint,’ Alessandro replies.

  Stefano opens the bathroom door and looks at us both. His face breaks into a wide drunken smile and then he cries, ‘Amigos!’ and rushes us.

  It happens so quickly that neither of us is capable of reacting. Stefano bundles us both onto my bed, an arm hooked around each of our waists. We’re flat out on our backs, our feet still on the floor, and Stefano is sprawled out on his front, two thirds of him on the bed, his bottom third off.

  Alessandro and I look at each other and laugh. I give Stefano a shove, but he’s motionless.

  ‘Is he okay?’ I ask, struggling to remove his heavy arm from my waist.

  ‘He’s passed out,’ Alessandro replies drily. Stefano’s face is turned towards him.

  He rolls out from under him and I do the same, then we stand at the foot of the bed and survey the situation. Alessandro grabs Stefano’s arm and prepares to heave him from the bed.

  ‘Can you give me a hand?’

  ‘Wait!’ I say.

  ‘What?’

  ‘He’ll end up on the floor.’

  ‘Yes, and then we can drag him out of your room.’

  ‘But then he’ll be passed out in the living room while there’s a party going on.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘Don’t be mean,’ I chide. ‘Leave him there. The bed’s big enough.’

  Alessandro looks puzzled. ‘But where will you go?’

  ‘I’ll stay here,’ I reply with a shrug. ‘He’s out cold. Anyway, if I’m under the covers, his hands won’t be able to get to me.’

  He hesitates.

  ‘Are you concerned for my virtue?’

  ‘I am a bit. You’re a little naïve, Angel. I’m not sure you know what you’re doing.’

  My mouth falls open with indignation, but then I shrug. ‘Yeah, you’re right. It’s been a while since I had a boyfriend. I’m a bit out of practice. You can crash there if you want to protect me.’ I point at the space to the left of Stefano. ‘It’s that or sleeping on the hill,’ I remind him, sensing his reluctance. ‘You can move to the sofa when the party’s over, if you want.’

  I’ve done enough drinking for one night so I brush my teeth and change into my PJs in the bathroom. When I come out, Alessandro is sitting on the bed, leaning against the wall, still seemingly unconvinced about this plan. I climb under the covers and edge down until my head is on the pillow. Once I’m settled, he gets into a sleeping position as well, but he stays on top of the bedcovers. It’s still warm and he’s fully dressed in black jeans and a black T-shirt.

  I turn on my side to face him. Stefano is a bit further down the bed so his head is not
blocking our view of each other.

  ‘Do you mind if I leave the light on for a while? The room is spinning.’

  ‘Sure.’ He seems concerned. ‘Too much to drink?’

  ‘Way too much. Again. You?’

  ‘I’m okay. I stuck to beer.’

  ‘Giulio seems to drink quite a lot,’ I muse.

  Alessandro nods. ‘He always has. Not always,’ he corrects himself. ‘But he has done for years.’

  ‘Why did you come back nine years ago?’

  His eyes widen at my direct question – alcohol has well and truly loosened my tongue.

  ‘Please tell me. We shared a sister! That means we’re family.’

  He breathes in deeply and heavily exhales.

  ‘Talk to me,’ I implore.

  Seconds tick by, but he does answer. ‘I bumped into an old school friend in America who told me that my grandparents were ill. I wanted to see them before they died.’

  My heart clenches. ‘What was wrong with them?’

  ‘Cancer.’

  ‘Both of them?’

  ‘Yes. They passed away within three weeks of each other.’

  ‘Did you make it home in time?’

  He nods. ‘I had four weeks with my grandmother and seven with my grandfather. I think we made peace.’

  ‘Why weren’t you at peace with each other before that?’ I ask with confusion.

  He sighs again. ‘I had been away a long, long time. An unforgivable absence.’

  I’m amazed he’s answering my questions, considering how reticent he normally is.

  ‘How long were you away?’

  ‘I left the year after my mother committed suicide.’

  I’m stunned. ‘You left when you were fifteen?’

  He nods.

  ‘Where did you go?’

  ‘I slept rough for a bit, hooked up with a bad crowd.’ He swallows. ‘And then I got lost.’

  ‘Metaphorically or literally?’

  ‘Both.’

  ‘Do you still get lost?’ I whisper.

  For a while we just look at each other, and then he replies, ‘Sometimes.’

  The expression on his face makes me feel so sick and sad.

  ‘Is that what happens when you leave? Every six months, you go off and get “lost”?’

  ‘Not in the same way as I used to,’ he explains. ‘I no longer poison myself with drugs, but I drink and sometimes too much. Mostly I roam, hoping to see as few people as possible.’

  There are voices out in the hall. We wait and listen as Cristina and Rebecca say goodbye to the last of their friends and then head into Cristina’s bedroom.

  Stefano lets out a noise that sounds like a pig snorting and we both start with surprise.

  ‘I forgot he was there.’

  ‘I didn’t,’ Alessandro replies drily, propping himself up on one arm and regarding the wayward waiter.

  I sit up and lean over to peer at Stefano’s face. ‘He is so good looking, but I just don’t fancy him one bit.’

  Alessandro’s eyes cut to mine, his lips curving into an amused smile. He’s taken his hair tie out and his hair is falling down around his face, brushing against his stubble.

  I pull my gaze away from him and notice that his T-shirt has ridden up, his scar shimmering under the lamplight. He follows the line of my sight and tugs his T-shirt down, returning his head to the pillow.

  ‘Was it an accident?’ I ask seriously. Did he hurt himself on purpose while he was abusing his body in other ways?

  He looks disappointed at the question. ‘Yes, it was an accident,’ he replies firmly.

  ‘Then what happened?’

  He sighs and stares at me for a long moment, his pupils dilated in the low light so his eyes are more black than green. ‘Don’t tell Giulio,’ he warns at last. ‘Or, God forbid, Serafina. I’d never hear the end of it. They thought I did it mountain biking.’

  I’m alarmed. What on earth is he going to say?

  ‘How did you do it?’

  ‘Wingsuit proximity flying.’

  Eh?

  ‘It’s when you jump off a mountain, wearing a special wingsuit, and glide down.’

  My eyes widen. ‘That sounds dangerous.’

  ‘It is a bit.’ He lifts up his shirt and studies his scar. ‘This one almost took me out.’

  I’m too distracted by what he’s saying to even appreciate his six-pack. ‘Why do you do it?’

  ‘Because it’s fun.’ He gives me a slightly sheepish, wholly adorable smile. ‘You get to fly, Angel.’

  ‘But you could die,’ I point out.

  ‘At least I’d die doing something I love.’

  Jesus! ‘How often do you do it?’

  ‘Don’t make me regret telling you,’ he cautions. ‘Not often. A few times a year.’

  ‘What are you doing the rest of the time, just driving around, or are there other ways you try to—’

  I manage to stop myself, but he finishes my sentence for me.

  ‘Other ways I try to kill myself?’ His expression grows dark.

  I said it flippantly, but there is nothing flippant about suicide, and after what happened to his mother… My face burns.

  ‘I don’t do it to die,’ he tells me seriously. ‘I do it to survive.’

  That makes no sense to me at all, but I decide to let it go.

  His expression softens. ‘How are you feeling now?’

  ‘Okay, I think. You want me to turn off the lamp?’

  He yawns. ‘Give it a try.’

  I reach behind me and glance across at him for a second. He looks so gorgeous, his face lit by the warm light.

  My eyes dart to Stefano’s lumbering, snoozing body between us and I have to shake my head. What a completely bizarre sight.

  Click. The room falls dark and the air is filled with the sound of Stefano’s gentle snoring.

  ‘I’ll take you to Pompeii on Monday if you want to go,’ Alessandro whispers.

  ‘Will you?’ I almost sit up again in my excitement.

  ‘I haven’t been since I was a boy. I’d like to see it again.’

  ‘I’d love that.’

  ‘It’s settled then. Night, night, Angel.’

  ‘Goodnight, Alessandro.’

  Chapter 28

  ‘You’ve got very varied music tastes,’ I decide, picking up Alessandro’s phone once again to check what’s blaring through his van’s speakers. We’re on our way to Pompeii and he has his substantial music collection on shuffle. So far we’ve had ‘Vienna’ by Ultravox, ‘Suntoucher’ by Groove Armada, ‘Run’ by Yonaka, ‘Just Dropped In (To See What Condition My Condition Was In)’ by Kenny Rogers & The First Edition, and now the shouty, sweary rock of ‘Killing in the Name’ by Rage Against the Machine has morphed into Frente’s slow, sweet ‘Bizarre Love Triangle’.

  ‘Not that I know,’ I add. ‘I haven’t listened to music properly in years. The piano was the only thing Nan could bear.’

  ‘And that’s why you learned to play so well.’

  ‘I’ve promised Valentina I’ll go to Tivoli next week to teach her,’ I tell him casually, fighting the urge to ask if he’ll also come.

  Giulio has said he’ll take me when the restaurant is closed on Monday and I know it’ll do us good to spend some time alone together, even if it is only for the journey there and back.

  ‘She’ll love that,’ he replies.

  Valentina came to help out at Serafina’s again yesterday, although apparently Alessandro has recruited two more servers, one of whom starts tomorrow.

  My cousin was disappointed to see that I wasn’t wearing my headscarf – she had brought me an emerald-green one. I haven’t had the confidence to run with the look since I left Tivoli, but I’m wearing the new one today.

  ‘Toy Soldiers’ by Martika starts up.

  I glance at Alessandro and laugh.

  ‘I’d get bored if all my music sounded the same,’ he says with a smile. ‘My songs are the only thing that keep me comp
any when I’m roaming.’

  ‘Where else do you go when you roam?’ I ask.

  ‘No one place,’ he says. ‘That’s the point of roaming.’

  I look over my shoulder. ‘Does the bench seat fold down into a bed as well?’

  ‘Yes. I sometimes use it if I want to store stuff up above.’

  ‘I’m not sure I could live in such a small space for months on end.’

  ‘You don’t live in the van. You live out there.’ He looks across the fields, drenched in sunshine. ‘You only sleep in the van.’

  I smile at him, but his eyes are on the road. It’s just as well, with all the crazy drivers. Luckily I’m too consumed with what he’s saying to pay them much notice.

  *

  Cristina gave me grief when she realised Alessandro had slept in my bed on Friday night. It was ridiculous, considering we had a great, big, drunken lump sprawled out between us the whole time.

  Stefano woke us in the early hours of the morning when he heaved up his guts in my bathroom. Afterwards, he stumbled out of the front door and we haven’t seen him since.

  Alessandro, bless him, took it upon himself to clean up the mess. Then he showered and emerged wearing only his black jeans.

  With his damp hair and bare chest… Honestly, it was like somebody had fed my butterflies speed.

  ‘And that was a good idea, how?’ Cristina asked when Alessandro had left.

  ‘Hey, my night was innocent. How was yours?’

  Rebecca was still in her bed. Cristina had only come out to the kitchen to get her a coffee.

  ‘She’s seeing someone, Cristina,’ I pointed out, as the tips of her ears turned pink.

  I’d heard Rebecca talking about her boyfriend the night before.

  ‘They’re going to break up,’ she snapped.

  ‘Sure they are.’

  I like that we’re able to be upfront with each other, but I also kind of wish she’d butt out where Alessandro is concerned.

  She no doubt wishes I’d do the same with Rebecca.

  *

  Pompeii is located near Naples and the modern suburban town of Pompei, nowadays written with one ‘i’. It was buried under a layer of ash and pumice in the eruption of Mount Vesuvius in AD 79 and because of the lack of air and moisture, the objects that lay beneath the city were well-preserved for centuries. There are mosaics on floors, fountains and statues, paintings on walls, and even clay pots lining the walls of taverns.