Authors: Shirley Hughes

Hero on a Bicycle (18 page)

“We managed” was all Rosemary said. But then she added, “By the grace of God.” She was holding her husband’s hand very tightly.
I’ll tell him all about it, bit by bit,
she thought.
Now, at last, maybe there will be time for us to be together, to get to know each other again.
She knew it wasn’t going to be easy. She had been without him for so long. But slowly, like a warm patch of sunlight spreading and gaining strength, the wonderful realization that at last they were going to be a family again was dawning on her.

“Your husband is a brave man,” Colonel Fergusson said when he took his leave. “He has risked his life over and over again to help the Allies in this area, and we’re profoundly grateful.”

“There were many others who did the same,” said Franco. He was looking at Rosemary and Constanza. “And there are many different ways of being brave. But where’s Paolo? Will he be back soon? I’m so longing to see him — my hero on a bicycle!”

Paolo was pushing his bicycle up the hill toward home. The need for lunch was drawing him back. He hoped there was something decent to eat for once. He had given up his night rides. Midnight sorties into the city were out of the question now, with all the bridges blown up and so many Allied military checkpoints around. And besides, what had been a thrilling adventure earlier that summer seemed like kids’ stuff after what he’d been through. Bike rides now simply offered him a chance to be on his own, to try to get his thoughts in order. He felt his life was being held in some sort of limbo, free from immediate danger but still waiting for the real stuff to begin. He had no illusions about being a hero, on or off a bicycle. He had seen enough of war to know that he wanted no part in it. Well, not for the time being, anyway. He paused, realizing that he was in about the same place as he had been when he’d first encountered Il Volpe and his fellow Partisans. It seemed like a very long time ago.

When he arrived home, he wheeled his bicycle to the shed, carefully avoiding Guido’s old kennel. It made him sad to look at it. The house was very quiet. There seemed to be nobody around. He wandered to the empty veranda, which looked out onto the pitted grass of the backyard. Over in the shade of the cypress trees, his mother and Constanza were looking at the bomb crater with a man whom, for a moment, he didn’t recognize. A bearded man, rather tall and gaunt. He had his arms around both of them. When he saw Paolo, he disengaged himself and raised both his hands in a joyous salute.

Paolo stood still a moment, then took a few steps forward, and then broke into a run.

“Babbo! Oh, Babbo! You’re back!” he yelled as he threw himself into his father’s open arms.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or, if real, are used fictitiously.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in an information retrieval system in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, taping, and recording, without prior written permission from the publisher.

First U.S. electronic edition 2013

Library of Congress Catalog Card Number 2012943650
ISBN 978-0-7636-6037-6 (hardcover)
ISBN 978-0-7636-6359-9 (electronic)

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