Stravaganza: City Of Stars Part 18

'But he's hideous!' said Georgia. Then she thought about it. She only ever saw Russell's face with a sneer on it, his features distorted by his hatred of her. Perhaps if he smiled, he wouldn't be so bad looking. He was tall and well built, with thick, brown hair and brown eyes. She had to concede that he wasn't physically ugly. But he would always seem so to her because of his warped personality. He was a complete contrast to Gaetano, who was quite ugly, but had such courteous manners and such a good heart that everyone who knew him loved him.

'I'll take your word for it about Russell,' said Alice. 'He sounds horrible. I couldn't fancy someone so cruel, even if he was really fit.'

In the late afternoon, the girls rode slowly back to the farm and then practised bareback riding in the paddock. Georgia was already better at it than Alice, thanks to her regular attempts in Remora. But Alice soon improved. They were both good riders, in tune with their horses. Within a few days, Georgia knew she was going to miss Conker when she left Devon. He was quite the biggest horse she had ever ridden, but with a lovely temperament. He reminded her more and more of Arcangelo, although she had hardly ever ridden him, because Cesare was usually practising for the Stellata.

Bareback riding was a completely different experience from riding with a saddle. It was uncomfortable to start with but you felt much more in tune with the horse because of the closer contact of knees and seat. (Russell would have a field day with that, thought Georgia.) She had seen it happen with Cesare, the complete union of horse and rider, what Doctor Dethridge called being like a centaur. Georgia was always going to want that now when riding at speed. She wondered what Jean would say if she suggested it at their fortnightly lessons.

In Talia, Luciano now spent a lot of his time visiting Falco. His days fell into a pattern, like Georgia's in Devon. He spent his early mornings on his secret riding lessons, then met Georgia in the Ram. Most days they took the carriage out to Santa Fina and spent time with Falco, preparing him for the great change in his life.

Their lessons would have been incomprehensible to any pa.s.sing Talian.

'You'll have to go to school,' said Georgia. 'And if you live near me, that will be my school, the one that Luciano went to as well.'

'You'll be in Year 9,' said Luciano, 'and you'll have a whole year before you have to choose your options. So you'll do all the subjects.'

Georgia counted them off on her fingers: 'English literature and language that shouldn't be too much of a problem, because you seemed to speak and understand English when you stravagated, just the way I do with Talian here, and you're always reading.'

Falco nodded. 'Go on,' he said.

'Then there's maths and science chemistry, physics and biology.'

'I have learned some mathematics and astronomy,' said Falco. 'And a little anatomy, but mainly for drawing.'

'Ah yes,' said Luciano. 'You can do art, and music too.'

'How about languages?' asked Georgia. 'Do you speak French? Come to think of it, is there even an equivalent of France in this world?' she asked Luciano.

'She means Gallia,' explained Luciano.

'I speak Gallian,' said Falco. 'Will that do?'

'It's much the same,' said Luciano, 'as far as I can gather. The way Talian is like Italian.'

'You can do Italian in Year 11,' said Georgia. 'That could be one of your options. It's ICT I'm worried about.'

'What is that?' asked Falco.

They spent the rest of that day trying to explain to the young Talian about computers. He just couldn't come to terms with it.

Then there was television, the way cars worked, mobile phones, football, fast food, electric lights, CDs, Game Boys, microwaves, aeroplanes. Falco's eyes just grew bigger and bigger. They realised that there were going to be huge differences in his understanding of history and geography too. They had had four centuries that he hadn't and were starting on a fifth. His knowledge of the world that Talia was in centred on what he called the Middle Sea and was learned from globes that he had at his home in Giglia, which sounded to Luciano like the ones in the Ducal palace in Bellezza.

On the other hand, he was very bright and quick to learn. PE and games would be out of the question till his leg was fixed, so he could spend extra hours in the library, working from books and using the computers. And wherever he lived, there would probably be a computer and access to the Internet too. That was also something he found difficult to understand. Like Rodolfo when Luciano had tried to explain it to him, Falco saw it as a big spider's web and couldn't believe that just anyone could tap into it for information.

'Isn't it reserved for the powerful?' he asked once. Both Georgia and Luciano thought that if there were ever the Talian equivalent of the World Wide Web, Niccol di Chimici would certainly want it under his control, but they didn't share this thought with Falco.

Another day they had to give him a lesson on twenty-first-century money.

'You remember the note I showed you in London?' asked Georgia. 'That was twenty pounds and people of our age don't often have them. But you'll need to know pound coins and fifty pences and twenties and tens and fives at least.'

It was frustrating not having the coins there to show him. But he liked the sound of the gold and silver coins though, being from Talia, where silver is valued above gold, he kept getting them the wrong way round.

On the way back to Remora one day Luciano broached the question that had been haunting him ever since Falco had asked for their help.

'You talk as if he'll be somewhere in Islington, but where on earth will he live?' he asked Georgia. 'What's going to happen to a handicapped Talian boy who turns up out of the blue?'

Georgia wondered how much of the plan she had been formulating to share with Luciano.

'You know my mum's a social worker?' she said. 'Actually she's a team leader in the section that deals with fostering and adoption. I'm going to try to work it so that she finds him a home. I think his best bet is to pretend that he's lost his memory. Then it won't matter if the authorities ask him questions he can't answer.'

Falco had begun to have strange dreams. He found himself over and over again in an underground tunnel with a thunderous dragon rushing towards him. He was in a tiny cell that travelled up and down with uncanny speed. He was at the top of a shining silver staircase that moved away from under his feet. His sticks clattered away from him and he fell headfirst. At this point he would wake, sweating and terrified.

Then he would sleep again and another dream would begin, this one full of new images. He would hear a high mournful cry and a rushing sound like huge wings beating. But he knew the sound was not made by a bird. Even though just before the dream ended he would catch a glimpse of black feathers.

The nights were long and troubled, particularly after one of his father's frequent visits. Then he missed Gaetano the most. The two brothers had shared their thoughts on their father many times. It was hard to be part of their family and doubly hard to be sons of a father whose deeds were well known and hard to ignore. But Falco loved his father and he knew that his father loved him. Now he never knew which visit would be the last time he saw the Duke and he had already said goodbye to his favourite brother.

In Bellezza, Gaetano was still leading a double life, spending most evenings with the young d.u.c.h.essa he was supposed to be courting and every day with the cousin he still loved as much as when they had played together as toddlers.

But his feelings for Arianna were changing. And so were hers for him. He was a charming and witty companion, very knowledgeable and entertaining. And the longer she spent with him, the less she thought he was ugly. In fact she found herself looking forward to their evenings together. And much as she missed Luciano, it was relaxing to be with a fellow-Talian from a Ducal family, who understood her duties and her role without explanation. She had to keep reminding herself that his father was supposed to have been responsible for killing her mother.

Gaetano had to keep remembering that too. He knew the rumour that Duke Niccol had authorised someone to blow Arianna's mother to pieces. It was that which made his father's plans for Gaetano's marriage both so outrageous and so typical.

'What do you think of this young sprig of our enemies?' asked a visitor of Rodolfo's at dinner one evening. She was dressed as Talian widows are in dark colours, with a light veil. But her cobalt dress was stylishly cut and she wore a bracelet of sapphires.

The Regent was on edge. 'You know you shouldn't visit me here, Silvia,' he said in a low voice. 'The risk is too great.'

'I've seen him on the Ca.n.a.l with that foolish young woman who put herself up against Arianna in the election,' said Silvia, ignoring his remark. 'But he seems attentive enough to the d.u.c.h.essa now.'

'He is a fine young man,' said Rodolfo. 'Not like his father or his cousin the amba.s.sador. But I think he is still following his orders rather than his heart.'

The widow inclined her head. 'Perhaps that is what people of his rank and Arianna's should do. There is more to think of here than puppy love.'

'Are you seriously suggesting she should accept him?' asked Rodolfo.

'I'm suggesting she, and you, should think carefully before turning him down,' replied Silvia. 'The di Chimici never offered marriage to me. It might be an interesting route to explore.'

On the Friday nearly two weeks after she had gone to Devon, Georgia took the train back to Paddington with Alice. She had a riding lesson booked at the stables the next day and didn't want to miss it; she'd already had to rearrange it from the week before. It was the first day of August and only days remained before Falco's proper stravagation.

It felt weird being back at home. Maura and Ralph and Russell were all still at work and the girls had taken the tube back to Islington, hugging goodbye outside the station. They were going to meet up again on Sunday.

Georgia let herself into the empty house. It felt terribly unfamiliar not Devon and not Remora. Georgia felt like a visitor, so she went up to her room and gazed at her posters and her picture of the black and white horses till she felt normality returning. She decided she would fix a date for Falco's stravagation with Luciano tonight.

Niccol di Chimici went to find Enrico in the palace stables at Santa Fina. He was usually to be found gossiping with Nello during the day.

'How is the new horse?' the Duke asked them both.

'Picking up nicely,' said Nello.

'Much better since I've been flying her at night,' said Enrico. 'She's off the lunge now. I just ride her. My, but that's an experience.'

'I've no doubt,' said the Duke. 'Perhaps I shall stay up here one night and try it myself.'

'Er,' said Enrico. 'She can't take much weight yet she's still growing. It's all very well for a scrawny runt like me but a fine well-set-up man like your Grace might be a bit much for her yet.'

'Never mind that now,' said Niccol. 'I came to talk to you about something else. My son has been receiving visitors here almost every day. I want you to find out what they are doing here and why he is so attached to their company.'

Enrico nodded. 'I know who they are, my Lord. They are two of the Ram but one at least is really from Bellezza. He is Luciano, the Regent's apprentice.'

'Ah yes,' said Niccol. 'I met him when my sons took me to the Ram to hear the Zinti play. His father is an elderly Anglian. The other is some stable-boy I think.'

'Ah,' said Enrico. 'They give out that the Bellezzan is the old doctor's son now. But he wasn't when he first came to the city. He was a distant cousin of the Regent's then. And I've had him in my hands and there is something odd about him, something your Grace's nephew was very interested in.'

'You know, that girl's got a real gift,' said Jean to her business partner Angela at the stables.

They were watching Georgia ride bareback round one of the paddocks.

'Where did she learn that?' asked Angela.

'She says she's been practising in Devon for a couple of weeks,' said Jean.

'But she looks as if she's been doing it a lot longer than that,' said Angela.

'Yes,' said Jean. 'She looks as if she's flying.'

It was D-Day, Monday 4th August. Georgia was quite confident that it would be the same date in Talia; the gateway between the two worlds had remained steady for nearly three weeks, in spite of Luciano's frequent warnings about its instability. Falco had had a visit from his father the day before and the Duke wasn't likely to ride out to the palace two days in a row.

Georgia had got the same clothes organised as before, this time with all the labels cut out. She was also lending Falco an old duffel bag and had bought him a pack of small-sized boxers from Marks and Spencer; she knew he had kept Russell's from before, as if they were a significant relic, but they really were much too big for him.

She had planned and planned and now she couldn't plan any more; it was time to act. Besides, it was becoming a strain to spend so much of her time in Talia up at the summer palace. She was under no illusions about what it would be like once she had got Falco here but at least then she would be able to enjoy her time in Remora. Now she had to squeeze in her bareback riding practice, and all the time she had alone with Luciano was spent talking about Falco.

Georgia couldn't remember what it was like not to feel responsible for someone else all the time. Now she decided to go and visit Mr Goldsmith at the antique shop.

He was pleased to see her but a little restrained.

'I had an unexpected visitor while you were away,' he said. 'Your mother dropped in for a chat.'

Georgia hid her face in her hands. She felt angry and embarra.s.sed at the same time. 'I can't believe she did that!' she mumbled.

'Don't worry about it,' said Mr Goldsmith. 'I think she was just checking up on me. She must have been rea.s.sured if you're here again.'

Georgia shook her head. 'She didn't say anything about it to me. I hope she wasn't rude to you.'

'Not at all she was very pleasant. But she did say she'd like to know when you were planning to visit me. I take it she doesn't know you're here today then?'

'No,' said Georgia. 'She can't tell me who I can and can't see or when. It would mean I couldn't just drop in on you on the spur of the moment, without telling her first.'

'She's just looking after you, Georgia,' said Mr Goldsmith gently. 'You have to be careful these days.'

Suddenly, Georgia spotted something in the corner of the shop, behind Mr Goldsmith's desk with the till.

'Crutches!' she exclaimed. 'I knew I'd seen a pair somewhere! Are they yours?'

'They were last year,' said the old man. 'I had to use them for six weeks, after my hip operation. 'I keep meaning to take them back to the hospital. Thanks for reminding me.'

'No, don't do that,' said Georgia quickly. 'I mean, could I borrow them for a short while? It's for a school project; I've been trying to get hold of a pair. And I could take them back to the hospital for you afterwards.'

'All right,' said Mr Goldsmith. 'It's a deal. Barts Orthopaedic Department.'

He handed them to Georgia, who now had all she needed for tonight's plan.

'Let me tell you about my visit to the British Museum,' she said.

Falco had been ready for hours. He had the mysterious undergarment on beneath his nightshirt, which he had changed into specially early. He had the bottle of poison which he had stolen from the gardener days before. He had carefully poured the contents away down a culvert but the bottle still smelled strongly and had a drop of liquid left in it.

Mentally he had said goodbye to the palace at Santa Fina, the Casa di Chimici, trailing round all his favourite rooms and up and down the avenues of the vast gardens. He stopped in the courtyard with the statue of the dying bull. 'Mithras,' he murmured, remembering the name Georgia had read out in the museum in her world. A quick death, he thought. A knife to the throat not like the slow uncertainty he would face. Would it hurt to die in this world if he was living in the other? He could not ask Luciano that.

It seemed an age until the two Stravaganti arrived. They went through what he should do in great detail. Georgia was looking tired, the strain of what she was trying to pull off showing on her face. Luciano's mood was sombre too. He had been thinking about the plans for so long that he no longer knew whether what they were going to do was wise.

The servants came up with fresh candles and the three friends knew it was time. Falco arranged himself in the bed with the empty bottle in one hand and Georgia's silver ring in the other. Again she curled around him and they waited for sleep to come.

But sleep was a long time coming. Luciano sat beside the bed with his eyes closed, absorbed in his own thoughts. But it was late in the night before Falco closed his eyes on his bedroom for the last time. Something changed in the atmosphere and Luciano looked up. Georgia had vanished. He went over to the bed and saw that Falco was asleep, the gla.s.s bottle fallen from his hand. That was how the servants must find him in the morning. Luciano retreated to his own room and thought he heard wings outside his window as he drifted off to sleep.

'That's it then,' said Falco, as soon as he awoke in Georgia's bedroom. She sat up and looked at him.

'Here, take the ring back,' he said, opening his hand. 'And don't give it back to me, even if I ask you for it.'

Chapter 18.

Rivals In some ways it was easier than last time. It was the holidays and Georgia wasn't really expected to come down to breakfast. When she did, everyone had gone to work and there was just a note asking her to start supper at six. She ran back upstairs and brought Falco down. He had added a baseball cap to his ensemble.

'Very fetching,' said Georgia. 'But you must wear it the other way round.'

They had a leisurely breakfast together. Falco was interested in all the machines in the kitchen and wanted Georgia to show him what they could all do. It was wonderful to be able to demonstrate microwave and kettle and toaster, rather than just explain them, though it did make for a larger breakfast than usual. Falco was fascinated by all the contents of the cupboards and wanted to taste as many as possible. He specially liked strawberry jam and orange juice and then he liked bacon and croissants.

Georgia was able to demonstrate the dishwasher too.

'Is this why you don't have servants?' asked Falco. 'Because your machines cook and make drinks and then wash the dishes for you?'