Trafika Europe 6 - Arabesque

astragal

a few steps, looked at them and then across to the trees before retreating. ‘They were angry we didn’t call earlier,’ Stefano said. ‘They said there wasn’t much light left now. There was one who was quite vocal. I didn’t think it was necessary. I don’t want Frieda to know this.’ The young man bent down as he spoke, eyes fixed on the timber. ‘They said we should have alerted them first. Not the carabinieri . They said we were stupid for thinking she might have been kidnapped. Stupid, the guy said. It was your wife’s first thought, I’m sorry. Frieda and I just went along with it. They said we should have called them straightaway. Then there might have been more time to find her.’ He listened to his son-in-law,

but found he couldn’t talk. He had been asleep through all of this. He’d been dozing when the child had ceased playing, when her gaze had travelled away. What had called her from beyond the border of pine trees, down the savage incline? And all of this had been visible from his window. Her little steps, one after the other, her passage into the shadow, under the branches with their brown skirts and spiralling arms. He looked up in a rage to the first folds of the peak and the summit in a crust of white pleats. ‘I need to join Frieda now,’ Stefano continued. ‘And speak with the officers. Though it seems clear we did the wrong thing by her. Sir, I’m infinitely sorry. They didn’t seem to hold much hope.’ His son- in- law hoisted

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