Transient Desires (Commissario Brunetti #30)(43)

If Brunetti were to say the same thing to Vianello, he realized, or indeed to any of the men who were familiar with boats, proposing that someone would not be allowed to drive a boat bigger than permitted by his licence, they would fall about laughing. A licence was a suggestion, not a limitation; it was a kind of non-restrictive formality, and some people piloted any boat they chose to, regardless of the power of its engine. Not the really big transport boats, Brunetti admitted to himself, but certainly the smaller ones.

‘At the Questura,’ Brunetti began, ‘you said your licence was good for all of your uncle’s boats.

Vio’s face still registered pride in his own capacities when he continued, ‘Yes. My uncle made me get them all: he said he didn’t want any trouble with the water police.’ He paused, as if uncertain whether to say what he was thinking, and then added, ‘I got them all with no trouble. First try.’ Vio’s smiled broadened as he said this, it made him look younger.

‘Good for you,’ Brunetti congratulated him. ‘How long have you worked for your uncle?’

‘Oh, I started when I was a kid. Just loading and unloading the boats.’

‘How old were you?’ Brunetti asked.

‘Fifteen. He wouldn’t take me until then.’

‘Because of school?’

Vio laughed at this, then gasped in a low breath as though the act had hurt him. ‘Oh, no. To work as an apprentice, I had to be at least fifteen. He didn’t care about the school.’ Vio’s mouth fell open after he said that. ‘I shouldn’t tell you something like that, should I?’

This time it was Brunetti who laughed. ‘I was helping my father unload boats when I was fifteen, so don’t think about it.’

‘He paid me,’ Vio said earnestly, as though this private honesty would make up for taking his nephew out of school.

Brunetti laughed again, even longer this time. ‘That’s more than my father’s boss did for me.’

‘Where did you work?’ Vio asked, his curiosity real.

‘Anywhere. Everywhere. My father got hired by the day, or maybe by the week. Usually at Marghera, but sometimes at Rialto. I guess I went along to make up for what he couldn’t do.’

‘I don’t understand,’ Vio said.

‘My father’s lungs were no good, so he really couldn’t do a day’s work, but he had a good reputation: everyone knew he wouldn’t steal anything. So the boat owners called him, and he brought me along to make sure a full day’s work got done.’ Vio seemed fascinated by what Brunetti was telling him, perhaps surprised that a policeman could also be a real person.

‘I guess my father was a bit like your uncle,’ Brunetti said, smiling.

Vio looked puzzled. After a long time and with something approaching melancholy in his voice, he said, ‘Oh, no, not at all.’ A few seconds passed and Vio raised his hand, as if to cover his mouth or push back what he’d said.

Before Brunetti could ask anything else, they were interrupted by the arrival of a nurse, who entered after knocking only once. She was old enough to be Vio’s mother, heavy-bodied and round-faced. She nodded towards Brunetti but did not speak to him.

‘I’ve brought it, Marcello, I had to look for the right size for you.’ Smiling, she held up what looked like a bulletproof vest, dark brown and apparently stiff. ‘Wear this during the day, and I guarantee you can go back to work.’ She smiled again, obviously proud of having found the vest for him. She opened it as she approached the motionless Vio and said, ‘Here it is. Why don’t you try it on and see if it helps?’ She turned to Brunetti to explain: ‘It’s stiff, Signore, so it’ll hold him straight and keep his ribs away from his lungs.’ Turning back to Vio, she held the vest up higher and shook it, as if some surprise were going to jump out.

Vio made no move to do what she said and barely glanced at the vest.

‘Come on, Marcello; try it on. I’m sure the fit is perfect: I had to keep asking to see different ones in the rehab, and I’d almost given up when they found this one.’ She waved it again, smiling at Vio encouragingly.

The young man sat up straighter and slid his legs to the side of the bed. Gingerly, he lowered one foot to the floor, then the other until finally, hands braced on the bed behind him, he stood upright.

‘Turn around and put out your right arm.’ Vio obeyed, and she slipped the vest over it. Lured by the momentum of getting dressed, he turned slightly and slipped his other arm into the vest, then turned back to show her the result. Seeing this, Brunetti found himself thinking of a similar scene, the arming of Achilles with a ‘breastplate brighter than the flame of fire’.

The nurse stepped around Vio and checked the fit at the back. ‘As I said: perfect.’ She helped Vio seal the Velcro tabs that ran up the front of the vest and could be adjusted to the body of the wearer.

She made a sudden move and pulled a handkerchief from her pocket, waving it in the air.

‘Try to take this from me,’ she said.

Brunetti winced when he saw how low she suddenly held it and what that would require Vio to do, but the young man bent obediently forward and down. As he reached out, she bent with him and lowered the handkerchief even more. Vio continued towards it and grabbed it from her hand, laughing. He held it above his head and then passed it back to her, saying, ‘It’s magic, this thing. Nothing hurts.’