Chapter 42
Dafne was pouring her second glass when Basta returned. He looked out of breath as if he had rushed to wherever it was and rushed back.
"I said open it," was the first thing he said to her, eyeing the dwindling contents of the bottle reprovingly, "Not drink the whole thing while I'm gone."
Dafne smiled lazily, feeling quite relaxed now.
"I put some aside for you."
She indicated his untouched glass.
"How generous," Basta drawled, then smirked, "If I didn't know any better I'd say you were an alcoholic."
Dafne pouted,
"That's not a nice thing to say. Don't you want me to enjoy your ill-gotten wine?"
"Well I do want you to enjoy yourself," Basta said, dropping a stack of paper on the table, "So much I went all the way to the school to get you paper."
"Pens too?"
A handful of pens hit the table, scattering and rolling across it.
Dafne grinned,
"We only really needed two."
Basta glowered at her,
"Say thank you Basta," he demanded.
"Thank you Basta," Dafne chirped, "We can start the lesson now."
"Let me have a drink first," Basta told her moodily, slumping into his chair somewhat exhaustedly.
Dafne reached for a sheet of paper and a pen.
"What did I just tell you," Basta said, thinking she had ignored him.
Dafne had begun writing his name in capital letters. She didn't bother to look up, just waved for him to carry on.
"I'm just getting ready," she said, "Drink up."
He did, grumbling under his breath as he took the first sip.
Dafne found her light-headedness made her hand-writing sloppier. When she finished, she looked it over critically and decided to scratch it out.
She heard Basta chuckle,
"Are you sure you're in the right condition to be teaching me."
Dafne scowled,
"I'm perfectly capable," she said indignantly, "Your name only has five letters."
On her second attempt, she concentrated with all her might on each line, each curve.
"There," she said triumphantly, holding the paper out for him to inspect, "See. That's your name."
Basta set the paper down in front of him, tracing each letter with his finger.
"My name," he said with something like awe, "I've never seen it before."
He tore his eyes off the paper to smile at her.
Dafne smiled back, a little moved by his reaction.
"You'll be able to write it soon enough."
Basta's expression turned doubtful,
"I'm not so sure about that."
"Well you won't know until you try," Dafne said encouragingly.
Basta sighed, picking a pen off the table without enthusiasm.
A few moments later he was cursing at it.
"Stupid stupid thing. Who invented such a stupid thing? If I ever meet them I'll stab one of these things through their eyes."
"Basta," Dafne interrupted his rant queasily, "Don't say things like that. You're only frustrated."
"Of course I'm frustrated," Basta snapped, "It's too hard."
"It's not too hard," Dafne said, "You're just too critical when you make a mistake."
He had started out well enough. He'd had little difficulty with the B. But when he had gotten to putting the cross on the A, he had lost control of the pen. It had skidded across the paper and slashed through Dafne's reference. He seemed angrier about the latter part. He kept pawing at the line as though trying to erase it off his name.
"But I keep making mistakes," he complained.
"You're bound to when you're learning something for the first time," Dafne tried to reassure him, "Just keep going."
"I want to start again," Basta said, "Write my name for me."
"I've already done that."
"But it's got a big stupid line through it."
"Can't you look past that?"
Basta scrunched up the paper into a ball,
"No."
He threw the ball spitefully on the floor. He stared at it tensely, littering his nice clean floor and swooped down to pick it up. Dafne watched him with sympathetic amazement, wondering what had happened to make him behave in such an obsessive way.
"Alright I can write it again if that's what you want," she said, wanting to console him as he placed the paper ball back on the table unhappily.
"Well come around here if you're going to do that," Basta said as he resumed his seat, "I want to watch you up close."
Dafne didn't argue until she reached him and he patted his thigh expectantly,
"Sit."
"No I'll stand."
"But I want you to sit with me."
"I'll bring my chair around then," Dafne said, moving to do so.
But Basta caught hold of her and forced her down onto his lap, locking his arms around her waist. Dafne sat there uncomfortably for a moment as Basta buried his face on her shoulder. She felt like a human-size teddy bear.
"You're not going to be able to write properly with me sitting on you," she remarked finally.
"I'm not the one writing at the moment," Basta replied, his voice muffled due to his position, "You are."
Dafne sighed, reaching for a new sheet of paper. Before she began, she turned to address the top of his head.
"Just make sure you're watching me."
Basta lifted his face to look at her,
"I am."
Not fully convinced, Dafne nonetheless went about writing his name again. She had sobered a little by now so she had regained more fluency.
"There," she said, glancing to see if he had been paying attention. He looked like he had. He was peering down with his chin resting on her shoulder, "Now you try."
She went to get up but he held fast.
"Don't rush off," he said, "We have all night."
He brushed her hair off her neck and planted a kiss there. If his arms weren't latched around her, she would have jumped up in surprise. The sensation made her shudder but it wasn't unpleasant. But she scolded him anyway.
"Don't do that."
"Why?" Basta said, "Don't you like it?"
She didn't answer and he seemed to take this as invitation to do it again. Less surprise, same shudder. It wasn't just the press of his lips that provoked it. It was the feeling of his warm breath on her skin, making it tingle.
"Stop it," she said, feeling embarrassed by her involuntary reaction.
She put a hand over her neck as a barrier.
"If you don't want me to kiss your neck," Basta purred, "Turn around so I can kiss your lips."
Dafne blushed at the suggestion but then she pressed her lips together determinedly.
She whirled her upper body around to face him.
Basta smiled at her compliance, leaning forward.
Dafne smiled too, cupping her hand over his mouth.
He froze, regarding her with surprised annoyance.
Dafne smile deepened in knowingness.
"I bet this is the kind of lesson you were expecting," she said, "Wasn't it Mr Oops-I-Forgot-The-Pens-And-Paper."
A guilty look crossed Basta's face but then he rolled his eyes and prised her hand from his mouth.
"So what if it was," he said unapologetically, "I'd rather spend my time kissing you than trying to write."
"We can do both," Dafne said.
Basta made a scoffing noise,
"Oh is that so, Miss Don't-Kiss-My-Neck-Even-Though-I-Like-It."
"How do you know I like it?" Dafne said somewhat nervously.
Basta smirked at her,
"Because if you didn't, you would have kicked up a lot more fuss than what you did."
"Well," Dafne said, at a loss because she couldn't deny it, "Just ask my permission next time. It's a... sensitive area."
Basta chuckled,
"I've noticed."
She narrowed her eyes at him,
"Time for writing now."
Basta sighed,
"Carlo's right. You are bossy."
Dafne rolled her eyes,
"How would he know," she said dismissively, "Now let me up."
But Basta was about to let her go just yet.
"Give me a kiss first," he said.
"Now who's being bossy?" she teased.
Basta shrugged, looking at her expectantly.
She made it a long kiss. It was the condition of her release but that didn't mean she couldn't enjoy it.
"Wouldn't you prefer to keep on doing this?" Basta asked her afterwards, stroking her face, "Forget the lesson."
"I just want you to write it once," Dafne said unwaveringly, "Just once. It doesn't have to be perfect. Then you can kiss me to your heart's content."
Basta narrowed his eyes at her,
"Are you bribing me?"
"Whatever works," she replied.
Basta released her finally,
"I'm going to hold you to that promise."
The incentive seemed to do the trick motivating him. His writing was still crude and trembling but he made it to the first A, then the S. He nearly lost control of the pen going to cross the T but he managed to keep hold of it. Dafne held her breath while he completed the A. Then he was finished, throwing his pen down with a huge sigh of relief. Dafne breathed a sigh of relief of her own but she made sure it was too subtle for him notice. She was less convert about her grin.
"You did it," she said excitedly, picking up the paper to admire the wobbly letters more closely.
"Yes I did," Basta said, looking less impressed than Dafne, "And you said it didn't have to be perfect so..."
"It might not be perfect," Dafne said, "That doesn't matter. I'm really proud of you."
Basta looked at her uncertainly,
"Really?"
She nodded, expecting him to turn smug. But instead he looked a little overwhelmed.
"No one's ever said that to me before," he said quietly, the unwanted orphan shining through.
"Well I really mean it," Dafne said.
Basta smiled at her tentatively,
"Yes I believe you."
Dafne smiled back, glad that he did.
"Can I keep it?" she asked.
Basta gave her an apologetic look, plucking the paper out her hands.
"I'd like to keep hold of it," he said, "In case I want to practice."
If that was his intention, Dafne couldn't argue with it.
"I guess that's the lesson over then," she said.
"Not yet," Basta said, surprising her because she had expected him to start rejoicing. He tapped a blank spot on the paper, "I want you write your name on this too."
"Why?"
"Because I want to see what it looks like."
Dafne picked up his discarded pen,
"Which name do you want?" she joked, "Little mouse? Dear heart? I have a few."
"You're real one."
"Really, that one?" Dafne said in mock surprise, "The silly nymphy name you have so much trouble saying."
Basta rolled his eyes,
"Just write it Dafne."
So she did. But instead of examining it, Basta folded up the paper and gave it to her put in his jacket packet.
"You didn't even look at it," Dafne said.
"I'll look at it later," he told her, "There's something else I'd rather be doing. So come here."
He pulled her back on his lap, holding her snugly against him. Dafne felt something digging into her back and swivelled around to investigate. It was something underneath his shirt, protruding like a small bump. She put her hand over it,
"What's that?"
"Huh?" Basta said, looking down, "Oh that's my amulet."
"Your amulet?" Dafne said, suddenly remembering, "Your rabbit's foot?"
"Yes. I haven't showed you have I."
He reached into his shirt and pulled it out for her to view.
"See."
He looked proud to be showing it off to her but Dafne only found it disturbing to see a piece of a rabbit dangling off a chord. Had he had actually been wearing this the whole time she had known him?
"So a rabbit's foot is an actual rabbit's foot," she said a little queasily.
"Well of course it," Basta said, shaking his head at her naiveté, "Rabbits are lucky so having one of their feet will bring you good luck."
"How is that rabbit lucky?" Dafne said, "The poor thing died so you could have its foot."
Neither her logic nor the disapproval in her voice sat well with Basta.
"I'm not the one who killed it," he said with irritation, concealing the rabbit's foot back under his shirt, "Anyway I don't expect you understand. You think it's all a load of rubbish."
"I don't think its rubbish," Dafne said which was a lie. "If I thought it was rubbish why would I keep the horseshoe you gave me in my pocket."
This cheered Basta up slightly,
"Well I'm glad I gave you that instead of a rabbit's foot," he said, "All things considered I'm amazed you didn't complain about a horse being bereft of a shoe."
"You can put another shoe on a horse," Dafne said, "A rabbit can't regrow its feet."
Basta made a noise of frustration,
"You might not approve," he said, "but I know that it works. The Father who was in charge of the orphanage I was in, Father Aldo, he had one. He was really old but never sick. He would always go on about how it protected him from the White Ladies. He told us that if they came, they would drag us children off instead because they couldn't touch him."
Basta shuddered at the memory.
"White Ladies?" Dafne said curiously. Basta's past always intrigued her.
Basta brought out the rabbit's foot and began caressing it. He looked afraid. She had never seen him like this before. She supposed that's why she had never seen his amulet either.
"The White Ladies collect dying souls and take them to Death."
"I see," Dafne said, thinking how terrifying that must have been for a child to hear, that they were going to be abducted by grim reapers, "What a horrible thing to tell you. You said he was in charge?"
Basta nodded,
"Yes," he said, his fear turning to something hotter, "I hated him. He was a mean old bastard. He'd find any excuse to beat you or make you go without food. If you didn't do your chores properly or if you didn't make your bed a certain way, he'd punish you. If you were sweeping, he'd always find a speck of dust that wasn't there..."
That's where he gets it from, Dafne realised sadly, this obsession with cleanliness. No wonder he's like this. He had it beaten into him.
"That's awful," she said, "No wonder you ran away."
"Yes I ran away," Basta smiled a hard pleased smile, "And I took his rabbit's foot with me. The old fool was asleep and I snuck in and grabbed it off his stupid fat neck. You know what happened after I did?"
Dafne shook her head.
"He died," Basta said, "I heard people talking about it in the village. They said it was sudden. His heart stopped. I knew why. It was the White Ladies. They had been waiting and waiting and as soon as the rabbit's foot was gone they got their terrible hands on him."
He wagged the rabbit's foot in front of her.
"So don't tell me there's no power in this because I know otherwise."
While Dafne was no less convinced of the magical properties of the rabbit's foot, she was thankful that she had been able to learn more about Basta because of it.
Swallowing her repulsion, she took it from him and slipped it back under his shirt.
"Then you should keep it as close to your heart as possible," she said, patting the bump.
"I always do," Basta said, "And my luck's been good lately... Well my love life anyway."
Dafne laughed,
"Are you saying I'm under some spell? That a rabbit's foot is the reason I like you?"
Basta shrugged,
"It might have something to do with it."
Dafne shook her head,
"Nothing to do with it," she said, leaning in to kiss him, "Just you. All you."
To be continued...