Read Online The Night Falling by Katherine Webb - Free Book Online Page A

mouth hangs slightly open as he too begins to work as though his life depends on it. They keep their heads down, hoping that nothing will come of it. Ettore aches to look again, to see if their attention has moved on, but he daren’t. Then they hear a horse approaching, and Pino gives a small, wordless mutter of fear.
    Only when the horse is so close that they must move or be stepped on do the boys stand up and scurry back. They look up into the black eyes of Ludo Manzo. He has a long, skeletal face, with the exact round shape of his eye sockets plain to see, and scarred, gaunt cheeks. His beard is a scribble of black wire, and he stinks of stale wine.
    ‘Do you boys think I’m blind or stupid?’ he says conversationally. ‘Well? Which is it? Speak up or I’ll beat it out of you.’
    ‘Neither one of those, Mr Manzo,’ says Pino. Ettore glances at him incredulously. Pino always seems to think that people will do right, if he does. When Ludo speaks, Ettore stays silent. Without fail.
    ‘You’ve always got an answer, haven’t you, fatso? Well then, you tell me – if you don’t think I’m blind or stupid, why do you think I can’t see you from over there, dossing instead of working? Or do you think I won’t mind paying you for wasted time?’ This time there’s silence from both boys. The stone-breakers work on, making their fearful din. Ettore snatches a quick glance across, but Valerio’s head is down. He wishes his father would notice his trouble, even if there’s nothing he could do to help. Ludo crosses his arms over his horse’s withers, tips his hat back slightly on his head, peers down at them and thinks for a while. ‘Did you just forget what you were supposed to be doing? Is that it – are you too stupid to remember to work?’ he says at last. Shut up shut up shut up , Ettore thinks, even as he hears Pino take a shaky breath, and open his mouth.
    ‘Yes, sir,’ he says. Ettore gouges an elbow into Pino’s ribs but it’s too late. Ludo sits up with a gleeful twist of his lips.
    ‘Well then, let’s see if we can’t do something to help you remember.’ The other guards have come to watch; one grins and chuckles to himself, knowing there’s some spectacle to come; the other frowns at Ludo and pauses, as though he might say something. But in the end he only turns his horse away and walks it slowly to the far end of the field. Ettore wishes he would come back.
    A short while later there’s another sound amidst the breaking of stone: the sound of Pino crying, and yelping in pain. Ettore tries not to look; he doesn’t want to witness his friend’s humiliation, but his eyes flicker back, treacherously, just once. He catches a glimpse of Pino’s bare behind; his trousers are round his ankles and he’s shuffling between the watching guards. Ettore can’t tell exactly what he is being made to do. Pino stumbles and falls down a lot, his cheeks blaze with pain and embarrassment, and Ludo laughs so hard he has to blow his nose; a kind of hard and silent laughter with no joy in it.
    Ettore looks away. He is left alone to listen as this goes on – that’s his punishment. Ludo is an uncanny judge of character, and seems to know that this is worse for him, that his guilt will eat him because it was his interest in the shell that started it. Across the field, the other workers try not to see. Only the boys glance over occasionally; some of them look sick, others fearful, others blank. Ettore is put back to work with the other corporal close by him, cussing at him if he looks over his shoulder towards Pino. But it’s not Pino he’s watching, in truth; it’s Ludo Manzo. He wants to memorise Ludo’s face – every line of it, every whisker, and the way the muscles seem to writhe in his cheeks as he laughs. He wants to be able to picture it in his mind’s eye as clearly as he is seeing it now, because it will most likely be dark when he kills him.

    Anger wakes him from this dream-memory with his