The Other Language(9)



“Can I come with you?”

“No, you stay here.”

“I don’t want to.”

“You are going to be fine. Just stay here and read until I come back.”

Monica gave her a sullen look, but Emma didn’t relent.

“If you need anything just go into the kitchen and ask Maria, okay?”

When Emma turned around she saw that Luca had left as well and Monica was sitting alone, elbows on the table, holding her round face between her hands. Luca had Nadia, their father had Mirella, and Emma had the English boy as a distraction to cling to. But Monica was still too much of a child to be interested in anybody outside her own family. Emma knew her little sister was probably on the verge of tears again and she felt a pang of guilt for leaving her behind. But she didn’t turn back. She had only a few hours of freedom and knew she needed to take advantage of them.



The door to the villa was open, so Emma peeked inside. The kitchen was silent, on the big table the usual array of rusty spanners and bolts next to half-eaten plates of congealed scrambled eggs, magazines and sandy towels strewn over chairs. Then she heard footsteps and Penny appeared, a towel wrapped around her head, wearing nothing but a tiny acid green bikini bottom with two minuscule strings tied on the hip bone. Her small breasts were just as tanned as the rest of her slim body. She welcomed Emma.

“Hallo, darling!”

She didn’t bother to cover her breasts but grabbed a pack of cigarettes from the table and lit one.

“Are you looking for the boys? Sorry for the clutter, dear, we are terribly disorganized, as you can see.”

Penny sat down at the kitchen table, crossed her legs and blew out the smoke. She looked around the room and sighed.

“God only knows why, no matter how hard I try, it always looks like a pigsty in here.”

Emma wasn’t sure it was okay to keep staring at her breasts but Penny seemed fine with that because she smiled and gestured for her to sit down.

“Jack is with Peter, they went to the hardware store in town. Let me call David for you.”

She called out his name a couple of times, in a prolonged lilt, then whistled as if calling a puppy.

“He’s still asleep, I’m afraid. I’d better wake him up, he needs to get out in the sun and breathe some fresh air before he positively rots up there.”

Penny got up and left the kitchen.

Emma felt her disappointment rise into her face and settle there; she had hoped to be alone with Jack today and to seize this opportunity to try and touch him. She had envisioned their fingers brushing by accident at first and then their hands clasping. Imagining the feeling of his palm against hers had stirred something in her stomach. She didn’t dare imagine anything further although she knew the next step would have to be kissing. It was still too big a step for her, but it was inevitable they would get there. But now Jack was at the “hardware store” (Emma didn’t know yet what the word hardware meant, but it sounded important and she gathered he must be on a serious mission) and she was going to get David instead. But perhaps David, being his big brother, would at least carry a bit of Jack-ness with him while at the same time giving her the opportunity to practice her English. Then—barefoot, slightly puffy and dazed—David appeared in his swimsuit, as if he had just been dragged out of his bed.

“Hallo, Emma,” he said and smiled so sweetly that Emma felt instantly much happier than she expected. Penny reentered the room, still topless and still perfectly at ease. She ran her fingers through David’s blond, matted hair.

“Darling, do you want to have a piece of toast before you go? Otherwise get a cheese pie at the bakery on your way, that’s much easier, here’s some change, luv. Get one for Emma as well. Now off you go, you two, it’s such a glorious day, I don’t want you hanging around the house!”

Penny kissed David on the cheek and puffed out the smoke of her cigarette from the other side of her mouth. David grunted something inaudible and Emma followed him outside into the bright midmorning light.



They walked along the main road, nibbling their fragrant cheese pies without exchanging a word. It was very hot, there was no wind. Nobody was around at that time of day. David took a turn toward the beach, and stopped in front of the jetty.

“Should we go to the island?” he asked her.

Emma had feared this moment all summer long, though she had prepared for it. Yet when the time had finally come, the task seemed colossal. She looked at the island in the shimmering light. It had never looked so far away.

“I don’t have my flippers,” she said, hoping that David might change his mind and come up with a different plan. But he pulled his hair behind his ear and smiled at her again.

“Okay, we’ll take it slow getting there, then.”



Emma prayed as she slowly advanced in her imperfect crawl. She prayed for her breath not to run out, for her legs not to get a cramp, for the water to keep still, for the wind not to rise, for the panic not to overwhelm her. There were so many elements—natural, physical and psychological—that had to be controlled and synchronized in order to avoid her drowning. The island loomed in the distance, looking hopelessly far, each time she opened her eyes. She prayed and prayed to an unknown God to keep her afloat and breathing. David was always slightly ahead of her; every now and then he turned to check that she was still behind him and raised an arm from the water to signal his presence. Emma tried to wave back, but the movement caused her to drop down, lose her rhythm and drink. The bitter taste of the sea in her mouth felt like the taste of her death and she decided to spare any extra movement. Her heart rate was speeding and her breath was shortening. Just past what seemed the midpoint, she felt a mix of desperation and rage building inside her chest. This would be the end of her, she knew. Just then she opened her eyes again and suddenly the island seemed much closer, almost reachable. She could see David, this time on terra firma, on top of a rock he had just climbed. She could hear him whistling a tune. Then, after only a few more strokes, her feet touched the rocky bottom.

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