Part 1 Giovanni
My first parish, how those words excite me. I must remind myself to remain calm and collected, I’m young enough as it is. The local elders are more than a little disgusted with their replacement for Father Benezio. But still, I will show them, I have not worked so hard to be discouraged by those who cannot see that sometimes youth is as good as experience. I am experienced in the church anyway, after all have I not also been going to church since I was baptised? Have I not studied to join the priesthood? And I studied hard, it is my only salvation. But oh Dear Lord, I am not prepared, no I am not, to wake up the first morning in my new home, look out of my window and be greeted by such a vision of loveliness. He is standing in my garden. A youth with golden hair and golden skin, stripped to the waist to reveal hard muscles coated in a sheen of sweat glistening in the sunlight as he digs the soil. I could almost swear that the Lord had sent an angel to visit me. Except I’m not sure an angel would provoke such base reactions that are threatening me now. I stagger back to my bed, sitting before I faint. Why, Lord? Why me? Have I not shown myself worthy? I have struggled for so long to conquer these unnatural feelings. I have not surrendered to them for years, I have dedicated myself to your worship, why do you tempt me now? I shake my head and take a deep breath. It is not my place to question the ways of our Lord, I must prove myself worthy, I must prevail. I take a second to regain control before I hurry to wash myself. The housekeeper is a dear old lady and she will surely be waiting to serve breakfast. I do not want to appear slothful on my first day. Mrs del Vede is waiting for me in the tiny dining room when I descend the stairs. I can smell something delicious and I smile at her. She looks a little flustered, but smiles back. “Welcome, Father, how was your first night?” she asks me kindly. “Very pleasant, thank you. Will you be joining me?” I ask her. “Oh, thank you Father. I wasn’t sure, with Father Benezio we were very informal, both myself and Alberto ate with him,” she replies, serving me some breakfast. I take a moment to say Grace. “Alberto? Would that be the young man I saw in the garden?” I ask, biting my tongue for my curiosity. “Yes, Father. He lives here and works in the garden and around the house. Anything that needs fixing, Alberto takes care of it. Father Benezio practically adopted him when he was orphaned and he has lived here ever since,” she sighs and sits down. “He was very upset when Father Benezio left, he’s a sweet boy, but he can be, um, spirited.” I could tell she was searching for a word that fit without criticising. “Boy? How old is he?” Dear Lord, what am I doing? “Oh, he’s eighteen now, Father. Father, he is a little worried that he may no longer be required, and he has nowhere else to go…” I interrupt her, “No, it’s fine, he is welcome to stay and work as he did with Father Benezio. Is he joining us this morning?” Am I setting myself up for failure? Of course, I’m sure I will have nothing to worry about. He may be lovely, but I can control myself and surely he will not have such unnatural inclinations anyway. “I expect so, he is probably washing up. He always works in the garden in the morning,” she replies. I merely nod and continue to eat, until we are interrupted Alberto skidding into the room. Part 2 Alberto “Sorry I’m late,” I run into the dining room, forgetting for a second that our new priest arrived yesterday. I didn’t spot him when he arrived, but I can’t say I am looking forward to it. Mama del Vede stares reprovingly at me, “Manners, Alberto.” “Sorry, may I sit?” I ask quietly. She nods and I sit down opposite the new priest. Oh Lord! I was not expecting such a young man. I am used to priests being elderly, fatherly. The thoughts that fill my head as I stare at him are far from filial. He is so beautiful, surely he is not old enough to be a priest? “Alberto, this is Father Santini. Father, this is Alberto,” Mama introduces us and I hold out my hand. He is staring at me, but I can’t quite read his expression. Then he blinks and smiles, shaking my hand. My mouth goes dry from the smile and my heart starts pounding from his warm, firm grasp. “N-nice to meet you,” he stutters. His voice is a warm, rich baritone that sends small shivers down my spine. I nod, I’m not sure I trust my voice enough to speak, and start to eat. “Alberto!” I look up in confusion at Mama, swallowing before I answer, “What?” “You did not say Grace before eating.” I resist the urge to snort because she’s glaring at me. It reminds me, that while Father Bene was tolerant of my religious shortcomings, they may get me kicked out of my home with Father Santini. So instead, I bend my head for a moment to pretend to pray, rolling my eyes in disgust. Then I look up at her defiantly and start to eat. She knows that I did not say Grace, but the priest doesn’t. He’s still staring at me though, which is a little unnerving. So I look up and meet his gaze. He looks as though he’s trying to figure me out. Our eyes meet for a second, then he flushes and looks down at his plate. For some reason, that just makes me smile. A shy priest, how adorable. He’s going to get eaten alive! I can just imagine the village’s reaction to such a young, innocent looking priest. I shake my head and laugh quietly to myself. He glances at me from under his lashes, and it suddenly gets very hot. I finish my food as quickly as I can, so that I can get out of there. I get up and look down at Father Santini. “I, uh, if you need me for anything, just call, I’m usually around.” He looks up and smiles, looking nervous, “Thank you, Alberto, I will remember.” Damn, he’s beautiful. I nearly run out of the room. Part 3 Giovanni Oh Lord! I have escaped to the study to be alone, with my thoughts. Maybe that wasn’t such a good idea though, as my thoughts keep turning to matters that are completely inappropriate. How wrong I was! He is more than lovely; close up, he is ethereal. His golden hair hangs in waves around a delicately wrought face, all fine bones and smooth skin. His eyes are amazingly green, I have never seen such a colour before. And his mouth… No, I will not think of such matters. I’m being tested, and I must prevail, I must. If I fail again, I will be lost for always, I know it. I have to smile as I think back though. Mrs del Vede said he was spirited. From the expression on his face when she insisted he say Grace, I’d say he was more than spirited. He’s certainly not shy either. I know I was being rude, staring at him, but I did not expect him to stare back so boldly. I certainly didn’t expect to stutter though, or feel so flustered, just from shaking his hand. Give me strength Lord, please. I pick up my bible and force myself to start planning my sermon. Tomorrow, I will be meeting most of the village. Strangely, that thought doesn’t make me half as nervous as the thought of seeing Alberto at lunch. Part 4 Alberto He’s been here three days now. I expected it to get easier, but it hasn’t. Every time I see him, my stomach ties in knots, my chest clenches and I have trouble breathing. I’m not sure I like it. It makes me feel like I have no control. Besides the fact that it is simply ridiculous, he is a man of the cloth. I look up at his window, he should be up soon. No, I’m wrong, he’s already up and he’s watching me. I smile and wave and he waves back quickly before ducking out of sight. I continue to smile as I weed. Apparently, he’s only shy around me, which makes me feel a little better about the way he flusters me. I think back to the other day, and I can’t help but feel proud about the confident manner in which he dealt with the villagers. He is obviously well educated and was easily able to hold his own among the older members of the village who seemed to have expected a callow youth. He’s thirty. I couldn’t believe it at first, when he told me. He doesn’t say much about himself, but I gather he was in some trouble when he was even younger than I am now. He was looked after by a priest in much the same way Father Bene looked after me. The difference being, he joined the church and I have no use for it. My parents, from what I remember, were not very religious. I’m not even sure I was baptised, something that would shock the whole village. But then most of the things I do would shock the whole village. Well, it’s almost time for breakfast, I suppose I should wash up. I try to ignore my heart pounding at the thought of seeing Giovanni. Part 5 Giovanni He caught me watching him. I knew it was a bad idea, but I found I couldn’t help it. Every morning when I open my shutters, he is out there, working. I think maybe I was right first time. He is an angel, a fallen angel, but an angel nonetheless. In the few days that I’ve been here, I realised quickly that Alberto is not religious in the slightest. But he still came to the village meeting. I felt oddly bolstered by his presence and I think I presented myself quite well. I don’t think it stopped the local mamas being highly suspicious of me though. If only they knew, even if I wasn’t a priest, I would never be interested in their daughters. I got some strange looks from some of the young men too. Maybe they were wondering how a man around their age was going to give them spiritual guidance. Or maybe they were suspicious too. I just have to get through my first Mass tomorrow and then I’m sure things will settle down. It’s time for breakfast, time to face Alberto again. I find myself having to pray for strength every mealtime. I almost live in my study to avoid him. It’s ridiculous really, but every time I see him I start to wonder if he tastes the way he smells, spicy and earthy. Oh God, please, I cannot think these things! I must control myself better. Letting him call me Giovanni was enough of a slip. I think Mrs del Vede was a little shocked, but it *is* nice to have at least one person who doesn’t call me Father, who doesn’t expect anything but friendship. Or at least that is what I like to think, hope. I wonder if he will be in church tomorrow. Part 6 Alberto It’s time for church. Giovanni didn’t seem too nervous and I’m glad. I want him to do well. I must admit, it’s the first time I can remember looking forward to Mass. I sit next to Mama and her family. She has a grown up son and three grandchildren of whom she is very proud. They are sweet children, but I cannot stand their mother. I’ve had to repel her advances on more than one occasion. I have to smile as I wonder what her reaction would be if I told her I’d be more interested in her husband. Not that I am anymore; no one has interested me since Giovanni’s arrival, or maybe I should say no one else. Damn. I may not believe in their God, but it is not a good idea to start thinking about him in church. The church falls silent suddenly and I look up at the pulpit. He is quietly looking round, taking in the sea of faces. His gaze falls on me and I smile, hoping to encourage him. He smiles back briefly and I notice several people turning to look in my direction. I shift uncomfortably, but then Giovanni starts to speak and all attention turns to him. I just let myself drift, and listen to his beautiful voice. Part 7 Giovanni Well, Sunday is over at last. I can’t help thanking God that it is. The sermon went well, I think, I hope. Certainly Alberto didn’t fall asleep, which according to Mrs del Vede is compliment indeed. I feel a little guilty though. I took confession all afternoon and I can’t remember ever being so bored. What petty little lives these people live. I kept finding myself wondering if Alberto would come to confess, I should have known better. I smile a little at the thought though. It would be strange I think, to take his confession. Although, I think I would like a little insight into his thoughts. He is very quiet. But he always smiles at me. I must confess, his smile this morning at Mass helped me a great deal. Oh this is bad, this is very bad. I hurry back to the front of the church and take a pew, bowing my head to pray. Dear Lord, please give me strength. When I finally leave the church, I’m a little shocked to find Alberto waiting for me outside. “Hi,” he says, with that wonderful smile. “Oh, Alberto, h-hello,” I reply. I’m annoyed that I stutter yet again. “I hope you haven’t been waiting all day.” He smiles again, “No, I had some work to do for Mama. But I thought I’d come and see if you wanted a little company on the walk home.” “I, yes, th-thank you,” I say, trying to keep my breathing calm. “That was thoughtful of you.” He grins at me and stands up, and to my annoyance, my heart starts beating faster. We start to walk and I try not to watch him out of the corner of my eye. “Giovanni?” I realise he’s asked me something, but I was so distracted, I didn’t hear him. Part 8 Alberto Damn it. Maybe coming to meet Giovanni wasn’t such a good idea. He looks a combination of confused and pleased when he sees me waiting for him. Yet again I think how adorable he is. Yet again my stomach flips and my chest tightens. We start to walk and I ask him what he thought of his first Sunday. He doesn’t answer and I look at him. He’s staring determinedly at the road, he obviously didn’t hear me. “Giovanni?” I say gently, not wanting to startle him out of his thoughts. He looks a little shocked. “Oh, I’m terribly s-sorry, Alberto,” he stutters, “I’m afraid I was a little distracted.” I smile. He only stutters when he talks to me and I have to wonder why. It is too much to hope that I affect him as much as he affects me. “I was just asking how everything went,” I say again. “Oh,” he looks at the road again, “Yes, I think it went well.” He glances up at me, smiling briefly before turning his gaze forward. “You didn’t fall asleep, so it can’t have been too bad,” he says, grinning. I laugh loudly, and he looks pleased at my reaction. “Well, Father Bene had a very monotonous voice. It would have been a struggle not to fall asleep even if I were interested in what he was saying,” I say, still laughing. “Were, were you interested in what I was saying?” he asks, glancing at me shyly. I smile again. He is so sweet. “Actually, yes I was. I think your style of sermon will take a bit of getting used to for the rest of the village though,” I tell him honestly. He nods, “Yes, that is to be expected.” “I suppose so.” I sigh, knowing that he is bound to have visitors about the sermon. “You’ll probably encounter some resistance. Don’t let it discourage you though, it’s the first time I can remember enjoying Mass.” He looks surprised and pleased and smiles that sweet, shy smile again. “Thank you, I’ll remember that.” We reach the house and I make my excuses, heading straight to my room to sit down, alone. Each time we talk, I fall a little further. I’ve known him less than a week and already I want him so much it scares me. Maybe they’re all right and God is punishing me for my sins, by making me want a man I can never have. Part 9 Giovanni We reach the house and I am a cross between relieved and disappointed. Relieved, both because it is a strain to act normally around him, and also because the more time I spend in his company, the more feelings other than lust are engaged. Disappointed, because of the way he hurries away and despite it all, I want to spend time with him. Oh Lord, why are you testing me this way? I’m becoming less and less certain that I will successfully pass this test. Indeed, in my thoughts and dreams, I have already failed. I chide myself vehemently, it has been just under a week after all. I’m sure, with time, this ridiculous phase will pass. And maybe if I keep telling myself that, I’ll believe it. I keep trying though, trying to rationalise my feelings. That it is merely a symptom of being alone for so long. That I have simply missed friendship. That I do not yearn for closer company, a warm embrace at night, a strong body on top of mine… No! I squeeze my eyes shut and drop to my knees, forcing myself to stop thinking of such things, bowing my head to pray again. Please Lord, was Carlito’s death not punishment enough? I feel the tears start to trickle down my face. It is not often I allow myself to think of Carlito. It was wrong to love him, but sometimes, even after thirteen years, I cannot help but feel the ache of his loss. I was lucky not to have died myself, maybe unlucky, I don’t know. I still have the scars from the mob who beat us, who killed him. It was Father Gradizi who saved me, took me in, taught me and finally sponsored me through the seminary. I am trying, Lord, I am trying to live up to his expectations, to his trust, please. I cannot stop the tears as I start to cry in earnest. Part 10 Alberto Giovanni is strangely subdued. Normally he is quiet, but attentive as Mama and I talk. But this is different, he’s just not here. He looks fragile and haunted, and I would swear he has been crying. I wonder what could have happened in the last hour to affect him in such a way. It doesn’t help matters that I want to take him in my arms and ask him what’s wrong, try to help if I can. After dinner I have to get out of there. I’m surprised at how much his desolate mood has disturbed me and I decide to go for a walk, walking always helps. But tonight even that falls short as I find I can’t stop worrying about Giovanni. I walk back to the meadow at the base of the garden and lie down, staring up at the stars and the thin sliver of the new moon. I know I won’t find any answers in the night sky, but it is soothing nonetheless. I only hope Giovanni will be able to deal with tomorrow. I wonder to myself why it is I feel so protective of a man twelve years my senior, but then I laugh at myself. I know exactly why. It’s the way he looks at me, so shy, the sweet smile that makes him look so young. I sigh, telling myself, yet again, not be so ridiculous. I try to stop thinking about him before my thoughts turn to imagining more than just taking him into my arms. I don’t know how much longer I can resist the urge to touch myself while thinking about him. I wonder sometimes why I haven’t yet, but I’m not sure if it would only make things worse, make my feelings more tangible. I sigh again and force myself to go to bed. Part 11 Giovanni I am tired, but I feel a little better this morning. The night was not as bad as I’d anticipated, thankfully. I open the shutters, looking automatically for Alberto; then I frown. He is sitting on the ground, arms tucked in between his bent legs, head bowed. My own worries vanish as I wonder what could be wrong. I berate myself as selfish as I find I miss his normal cheery smile that has greeted me every morning this last week. The urge to rush down and ask him what’s wrong is strong, but I fight it. It maybe he is just thinking, I do not want to disturb him. I ready myself for breakfast and join Mrs del Vede with a smile. I’m sure, sweet lady that she is, that she was worried about me last night, but she is too polite to want to pry and of that I’m glad. I am more than a little disappointed though, when Alberto does not appear for breakfast and I am more than a little concerned too. Mrs del Vede doesn’t seem worried though. She assures me that Alberto will most likely grab something to eat a bit later, that he is probably busy. I don’t find it particularly reassuring somehow, but I smile and nod. I retire to my study to start looking for inspiration for next week’s sermon. I am expecting visitors today and I want to take my mind off that. And Alberto. Somehow, today, my bible is less than inspirational and I’m too distracted to work. All my usual tricks to help my focus are useless this morning. I wander to the kitchen, Mrs del Vede is doing laundry today so I know I won’t be disturbing her. I am not expecting to see Alberto though, so the sight of him sitting at the bench, still half dressed from working in the garden, is somewhat of a shock. I steel myself and force myself to join him when he looks up and smiles at me. Somehow, that smile brightens my day immeasurably. Part 12 Alberto I missed breakfast. After a hard night of tossing and turning, refusing to think about Giovanni, I spent an equally hard morning trying to focus on the garden. I gave up in the end and just sat there staring into space. I missed Giovanni getting up, I wonder if he noticed. In the end, hunger drove me to the kitchen. I’m sitting eating when Giovanni comes in. I look up and have to bite back a gasp. He really is so very beautiful. I wonder if he has any idea. I smile at him and his answering smile lights up his face. He sits opposite me. “I missed you at breakfast,” he says, then he flushes, “I mean, w-we missed you at breakfast,” he stammers. My lips part slightly in shock and I notice his gaze drop to my mouth. I lick my suddenly dry lips and his eyes widen, then he looks away flushing a deeper red. His words and his reaction confuse me. I realise I haven’t spoken yet and reply hurriedly. “I wasn’t hungry earlier.” He nods and clears his throat, but doesn’t speak further. But I want to hear his voice, reassure myself that he’s better than last night. “Taking a break?” I ask. “Huh?” he looks up at me, startled, then flushes yet again. “Oh, yes, I find I am uninspired this morning.” “Oh,” I say, somewhat unhelpfully. He looks away again and I want desperately to lighten the mood, he seems so tense. “Would you like to go for a walk? I find it helps when I’m distracted,” I offer. “With you?” he asks, smiling that sweet smile that I just know is going to be my downfall. I return the smile, “Yes, with me.” He nods. “I’d like that,” he says quietly. “Good, let me just go and get changed and I’ll show you some of the most beautiful countryside in Italy.” Part 13 Giovanni I sit in the kitchen waiting for Alberto to return, wondering what possessed me to agree. But I know why, and, apart from everything else, I enjoy his company. It’s still early and I doubt I will have any visitors until after lunch, so I will not be neglecting my duties. He comes back in and for a brief moment, I have second thoughts. He is wearing a neat white shirt and black pants, almost his Sunday best compared with his normal work clothes. I swallow hard because I’m unnerved by the strength of my physical reaction to him. But he is smiling, waiting expectantly and I cannot resist a couple of hours in his company. He has a small bag with him and I raise an eyebrow inquiringly. “We’ll need to take water, it’s pretty hot out there,” he says. Then he cocks his head and frowns at me contemplatively. “Maybe you should change, you’ll be too warm in those.” I find I have to lick my lips before I can reply. “Um, yes, good idea.” “Uh,” he starts, then he stops and flushes slightly, looking away. I frown, wondering what’s wrong. “What is it?” I ask. “I was just thinking,” he says, “There’s a lake not far from here, I swim there quite a lot. Do you swim? I mean, would you like to go swimming?” Oh God, no. Lord, please, stop testing me, I don’t want to fail you. Spending time with him will be hard enough. I am trying to get used to his company, hoping that my feelings will ease, or at least become easier to bear. And, besides that, I don’t want him to see the scars, I don’t want to have to answer the questions that always come. I don’t think I could lie to him. “It doesn’t matter,” he says hurriedly, and I realise I’ve been silent a long time. “It was just a thought.” “I,” I start to speak, but I don’t know what to say, “Maybe another time.” He smiles, but it is not his usual open, happy smile. I almost have the feeling he’s disappointed, although why, I cannot fathom. I suppose he must be quite lonely, I know he doesn’t have any friends in the village, and he spends all his time here. It makes me feel happy that he seems to count me as a friend. “Another time,” he says, “Why don’t you change then, and I’ll get some water from the well.” I nod and hurry to my bedroom. It’s ridiculous that the prospect of spending some time in Alberto’s company should make me feel so nervous. I am thirty years old, he is eighteen, yet sometimes I feel as if he is so much older than me. For someone who has lived most of his life in a small village with a priest, he seems very self confident and assured. I don’t know how he manages to find such peace of mind without the comfort of faith. Part 14 Alberto To occupy my mind while I wait, I fetch some water from the well and fill a flask to take with us. What possessed me to ask him if he wanted to swim? It certainly wouldn’t help my peace of mind to be around him naked. Maybe I should be happy that he refused, but I find that I am oddly disappointed. He was silent so long after I asked him, I wondered if I’d said something wrong and made hurried excuses. Especially as for a brief second, his eyes had that haunted look from last night. I don’t want to cause him any hurt. It’s hard to admit, but I care about him deeply. Even in such a short time. There’s just something so vulnerable, so fragile about him, and I find I have to force myself not to try to look after him.