Part 8 (1/2)

Yes. But we're going on an adventure. It's a secret. Just you and I.

He stared at her with interest, eyes widening. Can I take my bear?

She nodded, smiling, hoping he couldn't hear the rapid trip-hammer of her heart. I packed some of your toys and your games in a suitcase. Come on, sweetheart. Get up. He sat up sleepily, rubbing his eyes, and she swung him up into her arms. I'll carry you. She walked softly to the doorway, locked the door behind them, and hurried to her room, whispering to him that they mustn't talk, then sat him on her bed, removing his sleepers and dressing him in warm clothes.

Where are we going? He held out a foot as she put on his sock.

It's a surprise.

To Africa? He looked delighted. On with the other sock. A blue T-s.h.i.+rt, blue corduroy overalls. A red sweater. His shoes. To Africa, Mamma?

No, silly. Some place better than that.

I'm hungry. I want a gla.s.s of milk.

Uncle Bernardo will have milk and cookies for you in the car.

Is he coming too? Alessandro looked intrigued.

Only part of the way. The only people going all the way on our adventure are you and I.

Not Mamma Teresa? He pulled away from her, and Isabella stopped. She looked him in the eye and slowly shook her head.

No, darling, she can't come with us. We can't even say good-bye.

Won't she be very mad at us and hate us when we come back?

No. She'll understand. At least she hoped so.

Okay. He sat down on the bed again, picking up his teddy bear with one hand. I like going places better with you anyway. They were whispering, and Isabella smiled.

I like going places with you too. Now are we ready? She looked around. Everything was put away or packed. Only his sleepers lay forlornly on her bed. On her desk was a note explaining to Mamma Teresa and the housekeeper that Mr. Franco had decided it would be wiser for her and the child to go out of town. They could contact Mr. Franco immediately with any problems in the house. They were not to report her disappearance or speak to the press. Oh, we almost forgot something. She smiled at him as he stifled a yawn. Got your teddy bear? He picked up the bear as she helped him into his coat. All ready? He nodded again and took a firm grip of her hand. Suddenly, at the door, she stiffened. She could hear the grinding of the electric gates, a slow churning of gravel, and then the hushed voices of Bernardo and the two men. A moment later there was a soft knock.

Isabella, it's me. It was Bernardo. Alessandro let out a giggle.

This is fun.

She opened the door to him and saw one of the guards at his side. Are you ready?

She nodded, looking at him, her eyes very wide.

I'll carry Alessandro. Giovanni will take the bags. This is it?

That's everything.

Fine. They were speaking in whispers. She turned off the light. The headlights of the Fiat cast a shadowed glow in the hall. Silently he picked up Alessandro as the other man took the bags. Isabella was last. She closed the door. It was over. Her good-byes had been said. She was leaving her home.

Bernardo took the wheel with one of the guards next to him. The other sat next to Isabella and Alessandro in the backseat. She glanced over her shoulder once as they pulled away. The house looked as it always had. But it was only a house now. An empty house.

Chapter ELEVEN.

Va b+?ne? Isabella glanced over at Bernardo. They had been driving for hours, racing through the night. Aren't you tired?

He shook his head. He was too nervous to think of his own weariness. The sun would be up in an hour, and he wanted to cross the border before daybreak. For the first time he regretted taking his Fiat and longed for Amadeo's Ferrari. As it was, he had been going ninety-five miles an hour, but he could have used some extra speed now. In normal hours the customs men might connect the name on her pa.s.sport with her face and call the newspapers.

How much longer? Isabella said.

Another hour. Maybe two. The guard said nothing. Alessandro was sound asleep on her lap. Bernardo had pa.s.sed him some milk and the cookies; he had munched them happily, had two sips of milk, and pa.s.sed out.

It was almost sun-up when Bernardo finally ground to a halt. Two customs booths sat stolidly on either side of the border. One Italian, the other French. They inched to the gate on the Italian side and honked.

Buon giorno. Bernardo looked pleasantly at the uniformed guard and handed him five pa.s.sports. The man in uniform stared disinterestedly at the car. He held the pa.s.sports in his hand and then motioned to Bernardo to open the trunk. He hopped out of the car, unlocked it, revealing Isabella's four bags, two filled with papers, the other two with clothes.

Just your belongings? Bernardo nodded. You're going to France?

Yes.

For how long?

A couple of days.

The official nodded, still holding the pa.s.sports in one hand. He began to open the first one, which belonged to one of the guards, as Bernardo prayed fervently that he wasn't a man who was abreast of the news. The name of San Gregorio was more familiar now than it had ever been. But they were both startled by a sudden honking as two trucks pulled up right behind the car. The customs man made an impatient gesture, and the first truck driver used an arm and a fist to express something crude. With that the officer slapped shut the pa.s.sport, shoved them all at Bernardo, and waved them back into his car. +ecco. Have a good trip. He marched off toward the truck driver with a look of repressed fury. Gratefully Bernardo started the car.

What happened? What did he say? Isabella was looking at him anxiously from the backseat. He smiled. He said have a good trip.

Did he say anything about my pa.s.sport?

Nope. That jerk behind us did us a big favor. I'm so happy, I'd give him a kiss. The two guards smiled in spite of themselves as they rolled quietly across the border and once again stopped. He made a rude gesture at the customs guy, and he lost interest in us, Bernardo explained.

Now what? Isabella looked nervously at the man walking toward them in dark blue.

The French customs man stamps our pa.s.sports, and we're off. Bernardo rolled down the window and once again smiled.

Bonjour, messieurs, madame. He smiled benignly at them, glanced appreciatively at Isabella and briefly at the child. Isabella found herself staring at the red trim on his uniform and wis.h.i.+ng herself miles away. A holiday? Or business?

A little of both. There was no other way to explain the two suitcases crammed with papers, in case they were inspected. My sister, our cousins, and my nephew. Family business.

I see.

He took the pa.s.sports from Bernardo. Isabella held Alessandro very tight.

You will be staying long in France?

Only a few days. It didn't matter what he told him; they would all be returning by different ways and Isabella and Alessandro not at all.