A blanket of silence fell over everyone.
Elena met his gaze and placed her hand over her heart. She flicked away a tiny tear, a sad smile playing across her lips.
Martina gently rubbed Matteo’s shoulder as he sat down.
Lucy lowered her head, sensitive to this moment of solemn reflection.
After allowing a little time to pass, she then cleared her throat and said, ‘I’ve always wanted to visit Pompeii. Can anyone tell me what I can expect to find there?’
Her question was met with a row of eager hands, and the atmosphere lifted.
‘The lady at the back, please.’
‘Hi. My name is Valentina.’
‘Nice to meet you, Valentina.’
‘I am from Napoli… I am the sister… no, sister-in-law of Elena.’
‘Do you work here, at the mozzarella factory, Valentina?’
‘Sì. I am a cheesemaker and administrator for the school and factory, and now Head of Marketing since my brother…’ She drew a wobbly breath. ‘Some years before I work as a tour guide at Pompeii then Herculaneum.’
‘Pompeii then… where?’
‘Herculaneum. Is like Pompeii, but smaller, and there is more to see because the ash from Vesuvio cover the town and preserve it better.’
‘And Pompeii?’
‘Because of the direction of the wind, the rain of pumice, it hit Pompeii harder.’
‘Thank you, Valentina. I must add Herculaneum to my long list of places to visit.’
‘Hello, sir,’ Lucy nodded in response to a bearded gentleman, who had tentatively raised his hand. ‘What is your name please?’
‘My name is Giuseppe and I amun postino– a postman.’
‘Welcome, Giuseppe.’
‘I deliver the post in this area since many years.’
‘I see. So, you must know Torre Annunziata very well.’
‘Of course,’ he grunted. ‘Giuseppe, the postman. That is all.’
Lucy pressed her lips together, stifling a giggle. ‘Nice to meet you, Giuseppe.’ She turned to another man. ‘Hello, sir. What is your name?’
‘I am Pierre,’ said a dashing silver fox, ‘From Paris.’
‘What brought you to Naples?’
He shrugged then sighed. ‘L’amour.’
Placing the back of her hand on her forehead, Lucy pretended to swoon. ‘How romantic!’
‘You are the Frenchstereotipo,Pierre!’ quipped Matteo.
Pierre grinned. ‘I am not only a romantic hero, but I am also the maître d’ at a French restaurant here, in Torre Annunziata. I speak French, of course, and Italian. Now I wish to improve my English.’
