One Step to You (The Rome Novels #1)(18)

Then, in the dim light of the bedroom, she saw the school uniform draped over the chair. Babi had prepared her attire for the following day before leaving. She’d expected to be home early. What a good girl she was, poor Babi.

But this time, Babi was definitely in deep shit—literally.





Chapter 6



Step raced down Via Gregorio VII at top speed. He shot past the Samoto dealership, the same place he’d bought his Honda. He shot past Gregory’s Jazz Club. The different sound of his tires gave him some information. He’d left the asphalt and was now running on cobblestones.

He downshifted without touching his brakes. He quickly checked the traffic light. He looked right and then left. He shot into the tunnel.

Right after him came the city traffic cops’ squad car. The siren howled louder as it echoed off the tiles, a prisoner of the rounded walls. The light blue flashing lights spread, alternating, across those horrible yellow walls.

Step came hurtling out of the tunnel, practically leaping. He downshifted and hit the brakes before veering off to the right, along the Lungotevere riverfront. He accelerated and slalomed past two or three cars. Then he put the bike into third gear, accelerating and gaining speed.

If Step could make it to Piazza Trilussa, he’d be safe. In his side mirror he could see the police car getting dangerously close.

Two cars were ahead of him. He upshifted and poured on the gas. Third gear. The motorcycle lunged forward. He just managed to squeeze between the car doors. One of the two vehicles veered away from the other, frightened. The other just sailed along down the middle of the road. The driver, in a daze, hadn’t noticed a thing.

The city traffic cops passed on the far right. Their cars rose, thumping and springy, on the low curb of the sidewalk.

Step saw Piazza Trilussa straight ahead. He shifted again. He veered across the road, from right to left. The dazed driver slammed on the brakes. Step shot straight down the narrow street across from the fountain that joined the two riverfront roads, the two Lungoteveres. He raced between the low marble traffic barriers. The city police were forced to brake, marooned there by the barriers. They couldn’t get through.

Step accelerated. He’d made it. The two cops got out of their car. They only had time to glimpse a pair of young lovers and a group of panicked youngsters hopping onto the narrow sidewalk of that side street to let the lunatic on the motorcycle with his headlights off roar past. Step appeared at top speed in their midst and then shot away to the far side of the Lungotevere. He curved to the left. He continued to race along for another short while. Then he looked into his side mirror. Behind him, all was clear. Only a few cars in the distance. The usual traffic at this time of night.

No one was following him anymore. He turned on his headlights. That would be the one thing he needed: to be stopped for riding without his lights on. Then he took a deep breath. He’d done it.

He just prayed that they hadn’t managed to read his license plate. But he didn’t think so. He’d almost never used his brakes for that exact reason. The brake lights would have lit up the license plate too.

He upshifted again and twisted the throttle. Now he needed to turn around and go pick up Babi. He’d take the long way around. He didn’t want to run into that squad car full of city traffic cops again.

After all, Babi could wait. She was safe.

*



Babi’s father, Claudio, opened the refrigerator and poured himself a glass of water. Her mother, Raffaella, went down the hall, to the girls’ bedrooms. Before going to sleep, she always kissed her daughters good night, in part because it was a habit and in part because it was a good way of checking up to make sure they’d returned home.

That evening, they weren’t supposed to have gone out at all. But you never knew. Better to check.

She went into Daniela’s room. She walked soundlessly, taking great care not to trip over the edge of the carpet. She put one hand on the nightstand by the bed. She put her other hand against the wall. Then she leaned forward slowly and let her lips brush that cheek. She was asleep.

Raffaella tiptoed out of the room. She softly shut the door. Daniela slowly turned over. She sat up, her weight on one side. Here comes the good part, she thought.

Raffaella silently turned the handle and opened Babi’s door. Pallina was in the bed. She saw the wedge of light from the hallway that slowly projected itself across the wall, spreading wider. Her heart began to race. And what am I going to tell them now, if they catch me?

Pallina lay there on her side, trying not to breathe. She heard a sound of necklaces, pieces of jewelry hitting each other. This had to be Babi’s mother. Raffaella went over to the bed, bent slightly forward. Pallina recognized her perfume. It was her all right. She held her breath and then felt the kiss brush her cheek. It was a mother’s soft and affectionate kiss. It’s true. Mothers are all the same. Worried and kindhearted.

But are their daughters the same to them too? She hoped so. At that moment, the one thing she hoped against hope was to resemble Babi as much as possible. To have her hair, her build. Raffaella tidied the covers, delicately tucking the edge of the sheets up around her. Then she smoothed them lovingly, eliminating even the faintest creases and wrinkles. But suddenly she stopped. Pallina lay there, motionless, waiting. Could Babi’s mother have detected something out of place? Had she recognized her? She narrowed her eyes, her ears pricked up, straining to detect every last tiny sound, even the smallest imaginable movement.