Section Twenty Nine

"learn to look in the opposite direction"

A slow stagger.
A waggle and a wobble and she found herself in Piazza Dante. Almost by accident. -Ah! -This is where we're going to meet! -Me and my American friend! -What's his name? -Don't know. -You get off HERE so I'll meet you HERE then we'll go to HERE and we'll eat some fish you into fish hey great sense of humour for a blonde welcome to the male principle you into male principle or vice versa well no actually I think I'll pass on that one. -God, yes, I've got that to look forward to!
She went up to the statue. Dante. Prince of poets. Creator of the Italian language. Up to his toes in graffiti. But no further. Only to the top of the plinth, his body and mind still retaining some form of immunity, be it aesthetic or superstitious.
She looked around the square. -Come on! -Concentrate! -Let's get this sorted! She picked out details of geography: park-benches, the lie of the street; checked her map for stations, entrance, alleyways; kept glancing around for a scooter, any scooter, that scooter. -I'll kill the little fucker, if I get my hands on him!
"Why, hello there."
"Wha... Oh, hello."
"Remember me? Giles."
"Yes, of course I remember you. And I remember your name as well. I don't need a prompt."
"Ooh, sorry I'm sure."
"No, I'm sorry. I'm sorry; I didn't mean to snap. I'm sorry. I've just had a bit of hassle."
"What happened?"
"Some little shit on a scooter tried to snatch my - my things. Sorry, 'scuse my language."
"Oh dear, I'm sorry to hear that. Are you all right? That's absolutely terrible!" So was his breath as he leaned towards her.
She recoiled as decorously as possible. "Yeah, I was a bit shaken, but I'm OK now."
"You weren't hurt?"
"No. Not really. I think."
"Did they get anything?"
"No. I managed to hold on."
"Good."
"Why did you say 'they'? I only mentioned one."
"I'm sorry. I just assumed... They normally hunt in pairs. So I'm told."
"As they did on this occasion. I'm sorry. I seem to be getting really paranoid. I think I'm still a bit dizzy."
"Do you want to sit down?"
"Er, no. In fact, I could use some air. What I could really do with is a bit of height. Get above the city for a bit. Get my head cleared. I'd really like to go to somewhere with a view. I'm sorry. Is that possible? Is it a weird thing to ask for?
He laughed. "No, not at all. Let's go up to San Martino. I was thinking of going there anyway."
"That's the big place on the top of the hill, isn't it? Next to that fort place that looks like it's been carved out of rock?"
"Yes, that's the one. Is that alright?"
"Yeah, lead on MacGiles. Which way?"
He gestured with a stiff right arm. They moved off. "Did you report the incident?"
"No, should I have? I wasn't really up to it. And I didn't know how to go about it. Mind you, there were enough police around a bit earlier to fill a prison. Would it have done any good, though?"
"Well, I don't know this city that well, but there seems to be so much of that sort of thing going on that I doubt it."
"Yeah, that's what I figured." They trotted along silently side-by-side for a few seconds. She paused. "How are we getting there?"
"I thought it would be nice to take the funicular."
"Funicular? I didn't know there was one."
"Oh, yes, Naples is absolutely riddled with them. Here; you can see them on your map." He stopped to show her. A whisper of moth-balls curled from his gums. "They're really useful in a place as hilly as this. There's four in all - see? - but they tend not to be working at the same time, from what I understand. I'm surprised you haven't heard of them. You must know the song." They started to walk again, and he treated her to a few bars of 'Funiculee Funicular' as they did so.
"Yes, but that's about the funicular railway at Vesuvius. It says so in my guidebook." She patted the rucksack on her shoulder.
"Oh well, I stand corrected. Turn right here." They pushed against the crowd up a side-street. A scooter roared past. Two girls. "Keep your elbows tucked in. And in future, I think it would be better if you kept your rucksack leeside of the road."
-Smart thinking, Batman. She kept pace with him. His breath was less strong perpendicularly. For something to say, she said, "I've just been to the museum."
"So have I. Oh, that's a shame. We've just missed each other. I didn't think that you'd be going yet."
"Yes, well, no, I just went on impulse. I didn't think you were going yet, either."
"Well, I suddenly had the old hankering, you know. And you didn't seem that keen, so I thought that if by any chance you did get in touch, I certainly wouldn't mind going again, anyway. Careful with that bag!"
"Whoops, sorry!"
"Doesn't matter now. We're here."
They entered an extensive waiting-room, whereupon Giles left her standing near the entrance and strolled over to the ticket-booth, embarked upon protracted negotiations with its irascible, whiskered inhabitant, and came back with two tickets protruding between the two gaps - index finger and ring finger - either side of the middle finger of his left hand. "Pick a card, any card," he invited.
She pulled one out. Index finger.
"The next train's in five minutes. Neapolitan time!"
They turned and gazed in the direction of the street, washed-out in brightness against the gloom of where they stood. A whirring and a clanking behind her made her start. A train had descended into the depths, like the giant head of a caterpillar re-emerging into a slanted subterranean hole. Giles subtly nudged her forward. They stepped down the passageway at the side of the train;
step
step
step.
Simultaneously, all the doors opened, and they were swamped by a panoply of people, seemingly ranging from dwarves to giants, until her eyes adjusted and they all moved down the steps and all became the same size.
Giles pulled her in. "You've got to be quick," he hissed. They had their own little passage, like their own little trough, in the train.
She stared around; almost fainted backwards. Everything was all wrong. It was all aslant, like some demented mirror-chamber at the fairground. There were no right-angles. the train seemed to be heading diagonally from the Centre of the Earth to Outer Space.
The doors slid shut. She suddenly felt closed-in. She glanced at Giles. He smiled quizzically. His breath was - miraculously - daisy-fresh again.
A compressor hummed beneath her feet, vibrating the rucksack so it slid inches across the floor. Instinctively, she reached down and put it on her shoulder.
A lurch and a judder, and the train rattled off, leaving them staring at an assemblage of vibrating heads; bald, be-hatted or with hair flowing with the side-shake of the train.
She clapped a hand to her mouth and giggled. She rubbed the back of her other hand against the inside of the window. It came away covered in sticky dust. The train growled and purred its way at almost negative miles per hour. She looked at the back of her hand again. More grey-knuckle than white-knuckle, this ride. She giggled some more.
Giles picked up on her mood. "Having fun?"
"You could say that. It's certainly - different. When were these things built?"
"Oh, way back when. And they show it. Some of the others have been updated, but not this one. But it does a job."
"Must be quite difficult to make these things. I mean - aren't they weird? Nothing straight - they must be all specifically built for the slope of the track."
"Er, yes - you've got a point there."
"Quite a feat of engineering."
"Yes, I suppose so."
"People must get quite a lot of job satisfaction, producing something unique like this."
"Yes. Alright. Alright. There's no need to go on so much. If you're not enjoying yourself, just say so, instead of trying to feign interest, making all these bright-eyed and bushy-tailed remarks."
"Oh, but bright-eyed and bushy-tailed remarks are what I'm about. Why do you keep going dark?"
"It's the tunnel lights. And the pillars. You get this regular effect."
"Hm. Good job I'm not epileptic. You wouldn't want me sprawling at your feet now, would you?"
"No, ma'am."
"'No, ma'am'. What a chivalrous mode of expression. Where did you learn that? Eton? Oxford? The Guards?"
"The Guards? Good Lord, no! How old do you think I am? Anyway, I told you I was at University."
"So you did. I'm sorry. I'm showing my ignorance here. Does one go to the Guards after Eton and Oxford or between Eton and Oxford or between prep school and Eton or between prep school and Oxford or..."
"To save you trying out all the possible permutations, I know next to nothing about the Guards, I'm attending a red-brick University and I didn't go to prep school. I did, however, if it affords you any satisfaction, go to a minor public school."
"Aha! So that's where you get your rich vocabulary from."
"Yes, ma'am."
All of a sudden it was too much. Waves of hysterical laughter engulfed her. -Oh, Lord, locked with this halitotic Minor Public School Boy in a rattling train from the centre of nowhere to the edge of nowhere else. -What a lark, Jeeves!
Straight-faced and strait-laced citizens turned to gaze in her direction. She continued to sob almost uncontrollably with laughter. Giles looked tolerantly bemused, trying to distance himself from her yet still picking up on the rapport. This meant that he spent all his time grinning conspiratorially to her and gesturing equally conspiratorially to the other occupants of the carriage in rapidly interleaving succession.
The drama was interrupted as the train halted with a ferocity that belied its previous apparently sedate speed. Her laughter ceased abruptly as she was thrown forward from her crouch, cracking her head on a chromium rail.
"Are you alright?"
"Yeah - fine." Clutching her head, but still grinning.
The doors opened. "Come on, let's go, before we get squashed in the rush."
She tottered out of the door, clattered down the slope and was at the threshold on the fringe of daylight before she knew which town she was in.
Giles loomed beside her. She tried to stand upright, but fell against him. "Hello, sailor. Whoops. Haven't found my land-legs yet."
He grinned. Almost imperceptibly. "Are you alright now?"
"Yes. Let's go. Now where is this place you're taking me to?"

"stay calm"

next...