Moon - Three Gold Coins

Josephine lives in the Noosa hinterland, Australia, with her husband, son and a tribe of animals that, despite her best intentions, seems to expand every year.

This edition published in 2019

First published in 2018

Copyright Josephine Moon 2018

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publisher. The Australian Copyright Act 1968 (the Act) allows a maximum of one chapter or 10 per cent of this book, whichever is the greater, to be photocopied by any educational institution for its educational purposes provided that the educational institution (or body that administers it) has given a remuneration notice to the Copyright Agency (Australia) under the Act.

Allen & Unwin

83 Alexander Street

Crows Nest NSW 2065

Australia

Phone: (61 2) 8425 0100

Email:

Web: www.allenandunwin.com

ISBN 978 1 76087 551 0

eISBN 978 1 92557 565 1

Set by Midland Typesetters, Australia

Cover design: Romina Panetta Edwards

Cover illustration: iStock

For Flynn, my world

CONTENTS

He mustnt know.

He mustnt know.

He mustnt know.

Lara Foxleigh felt the slight tremor in her legs with every step through the narrow cobblestoned street and knew it wasnt just from the jet-lag; every moment since shed arrived here yesterday had tested her confidence. Of the many times in her life she had imagined herself in Italy, it had never been for the reasons she was here now. She could only hope this had been the right thing to do.

She stumbled on the uneven ground and nearly fell. Cars with tinted windows beeped in frustration and a swell of people diverted around her and continued on their way, a human river gushing towards the mighty Trevi Fountain, whose splashing water she could already hear in the distance. She righted herself and hurried forward. As she did she caught sight of an old man ahead of her who also stumbled at that moment. She felt an instant wave of empathy for him.

His snow-white hair was brushed neatly to one side and he was stooped, a noticeable hunch between his shoulders. With his right hand he worked the end of his walking stick between the cobblestones. A young woman in flashy gym gear held on to his other arm, steadying him as he lurched through the push of tourists and the swift Vespas that wove impatiently through the cramped space. The man seemed so out of place here.

But then so was she.

He tripped again and his companion righted him. It wasnt done unkindly, but it wasnt loving either. Lara couldnt explain why, but there was something about him that made her want to stay close; perhaps it was just her affinity with someone who needed help to navigate this world.

The old man and his companion turned the corner around a tall building, a large family bustled their way in front of Lara, and the narrow street gave way to a wide space with the fountain commanding the arena. Blue sky stretched above her, and bright sunshine beat down on the Fontana di Trevi and the hundreds of people packed into the square.

All she could do was stare. Shed seen photos of it, but its sheer size was staggering. Corinthian pillarsthree storeys highwith a towering sculpture of the god Oceanus in the centre stood over imposing waves of sculpted water. Muscular, bearded tritons thrashed from the sea, taming winged horses. Clear water roared over shelves of white stone and plummeted into the pool below.

For a few moments she stood there, allowing herself to forget the reason she was here, on the other side of the world.

People squeezed past each other to get closer, the lucky ones sitting on the edge of the pool, smiling for pictures and tossing coins backwards over their shoulders. Lara felt a small, unexpected smile flutter to her lips. The fountain was mesmerising. The cacophony of pummelling water muffled the hum of her anxiety.

A flash of red caught her attention. It was the old mans shirt. He was leaning hard on his young attendant, lowering himself to the edge of the pool, wedged between a man sporting a Union Jack tee and a young Japanese girl with a Hello Kitty bag. His assistant said something to him and he waved her away. She melted into the crowd. He gazed around to the fountains pool behind, its light blue floor littered with silver and brass coins, and Lara did the same.

The water was beautifully clear, calling to her, a relief from the tenacious summer heat that was holding strong into September. Maybe it would wake her up, two espressos having had little impact on her jet-lag. She inched closer. At the very least, she could cup some water in her hand and wash her face or wet her hair as so many others were doing.

Mi scusi, she said, needling her way through and down the steps. Simply by chance, she found herself a few steps from the old man, who sat quietly, his head bent. She kept her eyes averted, conscious shed been staring at him.

At the edge of the pool, the water reflected the clouds in the sky above. She cupped her hands under the water then threw it over her hair. It trickled down the back of her neck. She breathed deeply.

I am in Rome.

It was ludicrous.

Lara splashed herself some more, then straightened and reached into her bag for three gold euro coins. She turned and threw them, one at a time, over her shoulder. The first to ensure her return. The second to bring new romance into her life. The third to guarantee marriage. She imagined that each landed in the water with a tiny plink. Undoubtedly the ritual shed read about online was all rubbish, but it did seem to be the thing to do.

Nearby, the old man rested his cane against his thin leg. He moved his veiny right hand over to join his left. With great gentleness, he touched the gold ring on his finger.

Lara watched, sadness welling, her emotions always just under the surface. He pulled the ring easily off his bony finger and lifted it to his eyes, studying it as though reading an inscription. Then he kissed the ring and flung it back over his shoulder. It made barely a splash before sinking to the bottom of the pool, just one more shiny object among hundreds of others.

Lara lurched forward, leaning over the edge, splashing into the water, trying to catch sight of the ring. But it was hopeless.

Your ring! She turned to him, bending to his level. He faced her, his eyes blue and bright, though he seemed to look right through her.

Why did you do that? She searched the water again, her eyes darting. Tourists with backpacks and bulky cameras jostled her and tried to wedge between them to pose for photos.

Leave it, the old man muttered.

She opened her mouth to argue but stopped; he had clearly done it deliberately and she had no right to tell him what to do. But, still. It seemed wrong.

Leave it, he repeated, with a British accent.

Youre English! She squatted down beside his knees, looking up into his face. Weve still got time to find someone who can help us get your ring back, if you want to.

No.

They collect the money every day. Someone will be able to get it. Theres a policeman over there. Hes busy right now but therell be another. We need to report it if youre going to get it back.