Swept Away!: Accidentally Expecting! / Salzano's Captive Bride / Hawaiian Sunset, Dream Proposal
on her idea until everyone had a solo shot, down to the tiniest child.
To these she added pictures taken secretly, when people had been unaware of being photographed and were therefore more natural. The final result was a triumphant collection that made Hope weep with joy, and give a special dinner in Ferne’s honour.
‘That was a very kind thing you did,’ Dante said as they sipped wine together. ‘Hope’s family is everything to her.’
His praise made her slightly embarrassed.
‘I did it for myself, really. Taking pictures is a kind of compulsion, and when I can’t do it I get restless.’
‘Why do you put yourself down? Who are you hiding from?’
‘Since when were you an expert in psychoanalysis?’ she asked, amused. ‘I’m not hiding.’
‘Some people would say you were hiding behind the camera, getting everyone else into focus but staying safely concealed. I’m just playing with ideas. If you want some good pictures, let me take you into town and show you old Naples, where the historic buildings still exist. You’ll find all the pictures you want.’
She agreed eagerly and they went the next day, driving down into the centro storico, as historic Naples was called. As he’d guessed, she was enthusiastic and began clicking, enchanted by the narrow, winding streets with washing strung from side to side, and the stalls selling fish and fruit.
At last they collapsed into chairs at a roadside café, and revived themselves on cake and coffee.
‘I’m so glad you thought of this,’ she sighed blissfully. ‘It’s been wonderful. This place is almost too picturesque to be true.’
Dante nodded. ‘Naples has its modern districts, places full of soulless, efficient buildings. But it also has these corners where people can still be human instead of cogs in a wheel. People here don’t just know each other, they’re neighbours, practically family. A lot of them are family. You tend to get whole apartment-blocks populated by relatives. Let’s have some—’
He stopped as a wild scream came from somewhere nearby. Suddenly there was chaos. People were running down the little streets, waving their arms and indicating something behind them.
‘Incendio!’ they screamed. ‘Incendio!’
‘There’s a fire somewhere,’ Dante said.
Following the pointing hands, they began to run until they came to a five-storey building on one side of a narrow alley, where the ground was entirely made of steps. Smoke was billowing from the windows and people were streaming out, shouting to each other.
‘They’ve called the fire brigade,’ Dante said, picking up a few words. ‘But these lanes are too narrow for the machines. The nearest they’ll get is that corner, then they’ll have to carry the ladders into this street and set them on the ground. Let’s hope their ladders are long enough. Luckily, everyone seems to be escaping the buildings fast.’
Behind them a woman was screaming, ‘Piero, Marco, Ginetta, Enrico—mio dio!’
From the bags cast aside on the pavement, it seemed that she had been shopping when the news had reached her and had run back to her children. Now they were hurling themselves into her arms and she was sending up frantic prayers of relief.
‘Salvo,’ she wept. Safe. ‘Oh, dio! Salvo. Ma no! Dove Nico?’
Nico? People began to look around. Nico? Where was Nico?
One of the boys said something and recoiled as his mother slapped his cheek.
‘What is it?’ Ferne asked, horrified.
‘Nico was coming down with them, but they lost sight of him,’ Dante explained. ‘She’s blaming them for going on without him.’
‘Nico!’ the woman screamed, gazing up at the building. ‘Nico!’
Suddenly there was a mighty rumble followed by a crash from inside the building, and smoke billowed out of the windows.
‘The inside has collapsed,’ Dante said grimly. ‘Let’s hope Nico got out.’
But the next moment there was a shout of horror. Everyone looked up to see a little boy standing on a rickety wrought-iron balcony at the top, looking down.
‘Nico!’ his mother screamed again. ‘Come down.’
She was too hysterical to realise that this was impossible, but everyone else understood, and groans went up at what seemed inevitable.
People were running to fetch ladders which they leaned up against the wall, but the boy was five storeys up and nothing reached him. Another ominous rumble from within the building warned how close danger was.
‘Move that ladder!’ Dante yelled. ‘Push it over here.’
‘But it’s not long enough,’ someone protested.
‘Don’t argue,’ he roared. ‘Just do as I say.’
Impatiently he yanked the ladder from their hands and set it up against the wall.
‘Hold it,’ he snapped.
Recognising the voice of authority, they scurried to obey. This was a new Dante, one Ferne had never seen before, a man of grim determination; his eyes were hard, his attitude set, brooking no argument, and woe betide anyone who got in his way.
She ventured to say, ‘But what will you do when the ladder runs out?’
For a moment he looked at her as though he’d never seen her before.
Then recognition kicked in, and he said curtly, ‘I’ll climb.’
He turned away without waiting for her reply and the next moment was climbing the ladder swiftly, two rungs at a time, until he reached the base of the third balcony. Seizing the wrought iron, he managed to haul himself to the upper rim while the crowd below gasped. Ferne gazed in awe, thinking how strong his arms must be to manage that.
Having mounted the balcony, he climbed up onto the rail and leapt upwards. It was only a small distance, but it was enough to take him to the base of the next balcony where he did the same thing, managing to climb up there too.
One more to go. Thank goodness, Ferne thought, that he was so tall and so long in the leg. A shorter man could never have managed those leaps.
Now he was there, soothing the child. But how was he going to descend with him? Those watching below saw Dante take a hard, considering look down, then nod as though the decision was made. He turned and knelt down so that the child could climb onto his back; his arms wound tightly about Dante’s neck. The next moment he’d swung over the balcony, going down the iron railings inch by inch until he reached the bottom and hung there.
Everyone below held their breath, wondering what he could possibly do now. He soon showed them, swinging back and forth until he could risk releasing the rail, and taking a flying leap onto the balcony below. It seemed an impossible trick, yet he managed it, throwing himself forward at the last minute so that he landed on his knees, and that the child on his back was safe and unhurt.
Nearly done. One more leap before they reached the safety of the ladder. Could he make it, or would they both plunge to earth? Down below hands were raised up as if everyone feared the worst and would try to catch them.
Dante didn’t hesitate, swinging over the balcony, working his way down the railings, then taking the leap. A roar broke from the crowd as he landed safely.
A man had climbed the ladder and now reached out to take Nico, helping him down to safety while Dante remained on the balcony, breathing hard. Cheers and applause broke out as the child reached the ground, but nobody could relax until his rescuer was also safe. At last Dante reached for the ladder and climbed down to a deafening roar.
Ferne felt the tears pouring down her cheeks.