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Georgia just gave him a withering look. But later she heard him go out and she raced back to the airing cupboard. She had to choose a new pair, so that the elastic would be tight, because Russell was much chunkier than the slender Falco. Her heart was thumping hard as she whisked her choice out of the cupboard and went back to hide them with the sticks. What on earth would Russell say if he ever found her with a pair of his boxers?
Fortunately, she had no time to speculate since a glimpse of her clock told her that she was going to be late for her music lesson. She ran down the street with her violin and music case.
When she got near the Mulhollands' house, she slowed. Such a lot had happened since her last lesson a week ago. It hadn't occurred to her till now how awkward it was going to be facing Luciano's mother. Vicky Mulholland opened the door to her with her usual friendly greeting, but this time Georgia scanned her face for evidence of sadness behind her smile.
When the lesson was over, to her surprise, Vicky offered her a cup of tea. 'You're my last lesson today,' she said. 'All my other Friday regulars are off on holiday as soon as their families can manage.'
Georgia was happy to stay; surely they would talk about Luciano? She was looking at his photo when Vicky brought in a tray of mugs and some shortbread.
'You knew my son a bit, didn't you?' said Vicky.
'Yes,' said Georgia. 'From orchestra.' She sipped her tea gratefully, thinking how much older Luciano already looked than the Lucien of the photo. 'I'm sorry about what happened.'
There was silence. Georgia thought about what Luciano had told her: that he sometimes managed to stravagate back to his old world for a few moments. He said his parents had seen him and Georgia wondered what on earth Vicky must have made of her dead son's unexplained appearances; surely she must have thought she was going mad when she first saw him? Had it made it better or worse for the grieving mother? But Georgia knew she was unlikely ever to find out. It wasn't the kind of thing her violin teacher was going to mention.
'Do you think it's silly of me to keep his picture out?' Vicky suddenly asked.
'No, of course not,' said Georgia. 'I think he'd like it.'
Vicky looked at her a little oddly. 'I think so too,' she said quietly. 'I miss him so much.'
Luciano was progressing with his riding. He was learning to rise to the trot, though it left him aching and tired. Dondola was a gentle horse and Dethridge a patient teacher. But Luciano was nowhere near Cesare's standard. The young Talian was riding bareback round the racetrack on Arcangelo and Luciano wasn't the only one watching him with a mixture of admiration and misgiving. The Horsemasters of the other Twelfths were all down there watching their own likely jockeys and weighing up the opposition.
Luciano stayed down at the track watching for so long after his lesson that he was still there when Georgia came and found him.
'He's amazing, isn't he?' he said.
'Fantastic,' agreed Georgia. 'And he makes a good pairing with Arcangelo. They'll be hard to beat.'
Cesare dismounted and came over to them. He was sweating and smiling.
'You want to try now, Georgia?' he asked.
Luciano watched while Georgia took a turn on the big chestnut. She was good, no doubt about it. She didn't go faster than a canter bareback, but her seat was secure and she got up a good speed. When she came back to Luciano, she was glowing and triumphant.
'Let's go somewhere and talk,' he said.
They sat on a gra.s.sy bank overlooking the racetrack. Beyond, they could see the fields Cesare had told them were for growing the autumn crocuses that yielded up the saffron Remora was famous for. They were already beginning to show green with the shoots of the flowers. Cesare had told them that in a few weeks the city would be surrounded by a sea of gold and purple.
'Do you want to go through with this test tonight?' Luciano asked Georgia.
'I think it's the only way to find out if Falco's "translation" is going to work,' she said. 'I've made some plans.'
'It'll be dangerous for you, won't it?' he asked. 'I mean, what if someone finds him in your room?'
'I know,' she said. 'But I can't think of any other way, can you?'
Luciano shook his head. 'I just can't see Falco adapting to life as a twenty-first-century boy,' he said.
'You seem to have managed all right, turning yourself into a sixteenth-century one,' said Georgia quietly.
Luciano thought for a bit, then said, 'Can I ask you something?'
Georgia nodded.
'Do you still go for violin lessons with, you know, my mum?'
'Yes,' said Georgia. 'I had one there today.'
'And ... does she ever talk about me?' he asked.
'Not usually,' she said. 'But she did today.'
Luciano could not say any more for a few minutes. He ran both hands through his hair. 'Can we do this to Falco's family?' he asked after a while. 'I mean, I had no choice, but he's calmly planning to leave his father, sister, brothers. What's it going to do to them? And to him? You know I've been back a few times to see my parents. And it's really hard.'
'I know,' said Georgia. 'In his place I don't think I could go through with it. But he's an extraordinary person. And it's what he wants.'
For Falco, the hours till nightfall crawled by. He was expecting Luciano and Georgia to arrive just before dusk. In his highly excited state, he couldn't settle to reading. He toiled out to the stables to talk to Nello, who was surprised and not a little alarmed to see the young n.o.ble.
But it calmed Falco now to be around horses. It was his dearest wish to be able to ride again, and not just as a useless pa.s.senger. He was willing to give up everything in Talia to achieve it.
He hobbled round the stalls, talking to each animal and stroking their muzzles. He still knew them all by name Fiordiligi, Amato, Caramella and they remembered him and whickered greetings as he pa.s.sed by.
'What's that horse over there?' he asked Nello, s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g his eyes up in the dark stable to see a black shape in the shadows he didn't recognise. It had a blanket over it.
'Oh, that's just a new mare we're breaking in for your father,' said Nello nervously, trying to get Falco out of the stables. 'I wouldn't go near her. She's very nervous.'
Falco let the groom guide him back out into the sunlight, but as he left he heard the strange mare whinny a mournful and carrying note that stayed with him the rest of the day.
In the Twelfth of the Lioness the blind Manoush lifted his head as if listening to something far off.
'What is it?' asked Raffaella.
'Something is not right in the city,' said Aurelio. 'It is beyond the normal dealing and conniving of the race. If someone has taken the zhou volou from the Ram, then that someone is trying to steal the luck. And the G.o.ddess is angry.'
'What will she do?' asked Raffaella.
Aurelio turned his dark and sightless eyes to her. 'We shall see,' he said. 'But it will turn out very ill for the luck stealer.'
It was nearing the time for Falco's experiment. He had informed the servants that his two friends would be staying the night. Rooms were prepared next to his and the three of them ate dinner in the family dining room. It was not a great hall like the one where Gaetano's birthday celebrations had been held, but it was enough to overawe Georgia. What would Falco, used to palaces of endless rooms, make of her house?
She and Luciano had tried to explain twenty-first-century life to him but had given it up as a bad job. Falco simply could not grasp the concept of cars without horses. 'If they do not pull from in front, then do they push from behind?' he asked incredulously. In the end, it seemed better, on this dry run, just to show him.
Georgia ate little and all three of them were anxious to get on with the business in hand. Once it got dark in Talia they would have only a few hours to make the journey. Falco dismissed the servants and Georgia and Luciano went with him into his bedroom where Georgia took the silver ring out of her eyebrow. She handed it to the boy, who turned it wonderingly before slipping it on to his little finger.
He went to get changed behind a screen and returned looking absurdly young and small in a white nightshirt. He sat on the end of his huge bed.
'What shall I do?' he asked.
Georgia went and sat beside him. 'It's simple but hard too. You must go to sleep, thinking about my home in England, where the ring came from. I shall tell you about it so you can imagine it. Here, get into bed and I'll lie down beside you.'
The boy climbed with some difficulty into the high bed and Georgia lay beside him on top of the brocade cover.
'It'll be like a bedtime story,' she said. 'I'll describe my house and bedroom to you. Only remember what I told you about when you wake up in my world. If everything works out properly, I'll be there. If I still seem asleep, just wake me.'
She took her own talisman out of her pocket.
'Luciano,' said Falco. 'Don't leave us.'
'No,' said Luciano, settling himself into a chair beside the bed. 'I won't.' He knew he was in for a long night.
The sun streamed into Georgia's room and on to her face. She was lying on her bed, in her top and pants, spooned round the bony back of the young di Chimici. For a moment, she couldn't believe it had worked. Then, 'Falco,' she whispered. 'Are you all right?'
He turned to her, his huge eyes darting round the unfamiliar room.
'We have done it!' he said. Carefully, he took the ring off his finger and Georgia fixed it back in her eyebrow.
Then she leapt off the bed, anxious to get him dressed in his English clothes. She showed him everything, including the underwear, which puzzled him very much. Then she gave him the sticks.
'I'll go and get dressed in the bathroom,' she said, 'and while I'm away, you put these things on and hide your nightshirt in my bed. I'll lock the door after me.'
Falco just nodded and she caught up her clothes and crept out of the room.
It was early on Sat.u.r.day and no one else was awake yet. Quickly she showered and dressed and went back to her room. She couldn't risk knocking so she just unlocked the door and went in, hoping that Falco was decent.
To her astonishment, she saw an ordinary boy sitting on her bed. True, he looked bemused and he had put the T-shirt on back to front. And he was unusually pretty for a modern boy. But he didn't look as if he came from another dimension.
'You look great, Falco,' she whispered.
He tried to smile.
'I'm sorry,' he said, 'but I must relieve myself.'
'Of course,' said Georgia. 'The bathroom's the first door on the right. But you must be very quiet.'
The thought of Russell b.u.mping into Falco on the landing didn't bear thinking of. She handed Falco the sticks and he stood up, but hesitated.
'It is not a bath that I need,' he said.
Georgia cursed herself for not having explained something so basic to him the night before. Carefully and trying not to embarra.s.s him or herself, she gave him a quick description of modern plumbing. His eyes widened.
She accompanied him to the door and kept watch while he manoeuvred himself to the bathroom and inside. She had explained the lock, but the whole time he was in there, her body was tense with fear. The enterprise was beginning to seem enormous, and this was just the trial run.
She heard the loo flush and a little while later, Falco came out and limped back to Georgia's room. They had pa.s.sed the first hurdle.
Much to his surprise, Luciano managed to doze a bit in the chair. He woke to see moonlight flooding the room and he had a crick in his neck. He got up and stretched, then peered at the bed. Falco appeared to be asleep, his dark curls on the pillow. Of Georgia there was no sign.
Luciano stared at the sleeping boy. He looked perfectly normal but the Stravagante knew that he was looking at someone who was no longer there. It made him feel terribly homesick.
'What are you going to do today, Georgia?' asked Maura. 'I was wondering if you needed to do any shopping for your trip away?'
'No thanks, Mum,' she replied. 'I've got everything I need. In fact I'm practically packed. I wanted to go to the British Museum today.'
There was a snorting noise from Russell.
'What was that, Russell?' asked Ralph.
'Nothing; cereal went down the wrong way,' Russell explained.
'Is it schoolwork?' asked Maura.
'Yes,' lied Georgia. 'It's for my Cla.s.sical Civilisations coursework. I wanted to get some notes done before I go away.'
'Geek,' whispered Russell under cover of the noise of breakfast being cleared away.
At least he won't offer to go with me, thought Georgia, even to torment me. There was no way that Russell would go into a museum. Still, she needed to know what he and their parents would be doing. Getting Falco out of the house was going to be the hardest thing.
But she was in luck. Russell and Ralph were both in their sports gear and were going to the gym. Maura said she would shut herself up in the little room that she and Ralph used as an office and sort through all the bills.
'I've been putting it off for ages,' she said guiltily.
Georgia waited till the men had left, then made her mother a cup of coffee and took it to the office. Maura's hair was sticking up and she was biting the end of her pen as she fiddled with a calculator.
'I'm just off, Mum,' said Georgia. 'I won't be back till after lunch.'
Maura smiled gratefully. 'Thanks for the coffee, Georgia. And let me give you some money.' She took a twenty-pound note from her purse. 'This should buy you some lunch as well as your fare,' she said.
Georgia knew that Maura wouldn't be coming out of the office for a while, so she took her chance to smuggle Falco downstairs. He was surprisingly agile. After the grand sweeping staircases of Santa Fina, he was not likely to be defeated by a couple of flights in an Islington terrace.
She had told him the plan they were going to look for an Etruscan horse like her talisman. But the subplot was to give Falco a taste of central London. And he very nearly freaked before they were even out of the front gate. A couple of perfectly ordinary cars pa.s.sed and he jumped, terrified. All Georgia's attempts to explain about cars and traffic were nothing compared to the reality; it was more than he could cope with. However, he was not too disturbed by his absence of shadow when Georgia pointed it out to him.
It took ages to walk to Caledonian Road tube. Georgia had checked that it had a lift, so that Falco wouldn't have to cope with escalators, but she hadn't reckoned with the slowness of his walking and the many times he had to stop, alarmed by the traffic. In the end, Georgia took him into a cafe.
'You need some breakfast, anyway,' she said.
She bought them tea and fried egg sandwiches. Falco, who had never tasted either before, wolfed it all down. It seemed to do him good. The rest of the journey was easier, though Falco cowered back from the platform when the tube train came rushing in. Georgia realised how much of her ordinary daily life was remarkable now she was seeing it through sixteenth-century eyes.
The change at Leicester Square did involve an escalator, but not a big one and Falco managed it without problems. But he was already flagging when they got into the lift at Goodge Street, and it was quite a walk from there.
When they reached the corner of Gower Street and Great Russell Street, Falco heaved a sigh of relief.
'We are here good! I don't think I could walk much further.'