13

 13

GIOVANNA’S EMPTY DESK attracted glances and then repelled them. It was like an open trapdoor in the classroom. Sister Annangela placed her bun-shaped hand on the shoulder of the little girl who had sat next to Giovanna and now sat by herself; she gave a little snort and then began sobbing, her eyes meanwhile staring in surprise because she hadn’t expected to cry so soon, so suddenly and noisily. They all competed to console her, and the more comfort she got the more she cried, trails of shiny mucus running down the sleeves of her smock. When she calmed down, they went on to write letters to Giovanna’s family, embellished with hearts and flowers. The ones who were best at drawing labored over angels with suffering faces: “We’ll never forget you,” “Rest in peace,” “You’re in heaven now,” “Mother Mary, pray for Giovanna.”

The collars of the little girls’ smocks were wet with tears and they held fast to their handkerchiefs with their free hands. The children seemed bewildered and grim with embarrassment. They were on the alert, as if someone had suddenly handed them the leash of a big, unfamiliar dog.

They had permission to go to the loo in pairs to freshen up and there was a procession. Two girls, encouraging each other, started to wail so loudly that they had to sit on the floor tiles to calm down, never mind the brown shoeprints or scraps of wet toilet paper. In the heat of the moment, they apologized for old grievances and hugged each other.

“You must forgive me.”

“No, you must forgive me. You’re my best friend.”

A handful of journalists stood waiting at the school gates hoping to speak to the headmaster, maybe get some quotes to add to their pieces.

“You’re a pain in the neck!” One father lost it.

Sister Annangela remained seated in her Fiat Cinquecento until the driveway and road were free. The sight of children coming out of the gates alive, schoolbags thumping, pierced the hearts of the parents; it couldn’t be taken for granted, and it wouldn’t be for some time to come. Sister Annangela needed to feel that mixture of panic, bewilderment, and love surging around her, every last drop of it. It would be helpful when she went to see Giovanna’s mother and father.