Oliver had laughed when he read them.
Later, he had quietly deleted the messages.
Daniel knew little of this until Oliver mentioned it one evening.
“They think it’s funny.”
“What?”
“That we’re so slow.”
Daniel considered his answer.
“Do you think they’ve ever done anything similar?”
“No.”
“Then they may not understand what they’re talking about.”
Oliver picked at a loose thread on his sleeve.
“They’re still my friends.”
“Of course. Friends can say foolish things.”
“You’re saying they’re idiots.”
“I’m saying they haven’t done the journey.”
Oliver considered this distinction.
Then he smiled.
“Ethan said he couldn’t even cycle to his grandma’s because she lives in Manchester.”
“Well, that’s honest.”
Oliver laughed.
They called Teresa that night.
She appeared on the screen sitting beside an open window. A fan turned slowly in the background.
“You’re in Italy?” she asked.
“Yes!”
“Good. Now don’t get run over.”
“Nonna!”
“I’m serious. Italian drivers are not famous for their patience.”
Daniel laughed.
She leaned closer.
“Oliver, are you eating enough?”
“Yes.”
“Show me your face.”
He brought the phone nearer.
Teresa studied him.
“Too thin.”
“Dad said you’d say that.”
“Your father is also too thin.”
“Mamma, you haven’t seen me properly.”
“I don’t need to.”
Oliver turned the camera toward Daniel.
Teresa examined her son.
“Definitely too thin.”
They all laughed.
Then the conversation moved to ordinary things.
Teresa described a problem with her washing machine. Oliver told her about a cat they had seen sleeping in a bicycle basket. Daniel asked whether the groceries were arriving on time.
The call lasted almost an hour.
Near the end, Teresa became quieter.
“Daniel?”
“Yes, Mamma.”
“How much farther?”
He gave her a cautious estimate.
She nodded.
“All right.”
“Are you feeling well?”
“Yes.”
“Really?”
“Daniel.”
“Sorry.”
She looked at Oliver.
“Your father asks too many questions.”
Oliver grinned.
“I know.”
Teresa smiled, but her eyes lingered on the screen.
“I’ve been thinking about what to cook when you arrive.”
Daniel laughed.
“You don’t have to cook anything.”
“That was not what I asked.”
“We’ll eat whatever you make.”
“Oliver still likes my aubergines?”
“Yes, Nonna.”
“Good.”
She nodded, apparently satisfied.
Then she added, “I hope I remember how to make them.”
Oliver frowned.
“You always remember.”
Teresa’s smile returned.
“Of course I do.”
But after the call, he asked his father whether his grandmother had been joking.
Daniel was not entirely sure.
They were approaching the later stages of the journey when Daniel received the telephone call that nearly ended it.
They had stopped for lunch in a town in central Italy. Oliver was eating a piece of pizza on a bench, his bicycle propped nearby.
Daniel’s phone rang.
It was Matteo, Teresa’s neighbour.
Daniel answered immediately.
“Everything all right?”
Matteo did not answer at once.
“I don’t want you to panic.”
Daniel stood.
“What happened?”
“Your mother had a fall.”
For several seconds, Daniel could hear the traffic behind him but not make sense of it.
“Where?”
“In her kitchen.”
“Is she hurt?”
“She’s conscious. I’ve spoken to her. She’s been assessed, and we’re following the doctor’s advice. She says she’s fine.”
“What does the doctor say?”
Matteo explained what he knew. Teresa had become unsteady while reaching for something in a cupboard. She had fallen against a chair and bruised her hip and arm. She had not suffered a serious injury according to the assessment, but she was sore and had been advised to rest and seek further help if certain symptoms developed.
Daniel closed his eyes.
“Why was she reaching into a cupboard?”
“I wasn’t there, Daniel.”
“She knows she shouldn’t climb.”
“She didn’t climb. She reached.”
“Is she alone now?”
“No. My sister is with her.”
Daniel pressed his fingers against his forehead.
“Put her on the phone.”
“She doesn’t want to upset you.”
“Matteo.”
“All right.”
Oliver watched his father from the bench.
He had seen enough adult telephone calls to recognise when something was wrong.
Daniel turned away, speaking rapidly in Italian.
After several minutes, his voice grew louder.
“Mamma, why didn’t you call me?”
Oliver stopped eating.
Daniel listened.
“That’s not the point.”
Another pause.
“I know you weren’t trying to worry me.”
He looked toward the street.
“Please don’t do that again.”
The call ended.
Oliver stood.
“What’s happened?”
Daniel stared at the phone.
“Nonna fell.”
The words were enough to empty the colour from Oliver’s face.
“Is she okay?”
“She’s been checked. Nothing serious has been found, but she’s bruised and sore.”
“How?”
“She lost her balance in the kitchen.”
“Did she go to hospital?”
Daniel explained what he knew.
Oliver looked at the road.
“How far are we?”
“A long way.”
“Then we need to go.”
Daniel did not answer.
“We can ride longer today.”
“No.”
“We could go all night.”
“Absolutely not.”
Oliver’s voice rose.
“But she’s hurt!”
“I know.”
“Then why are we just standing here?”
Daniel turned toward him.
“Because I have to think.”
Oliver stared.
“You always have to think!”
Several people nearby glanced toward them.
Daniel lowered his voice.
“Oliver, enough.”
“No! We’ve been going for ages, and now something’s happened, and you’re still talking about routes and rules!”
His father took a step closer.
“Listen to me.”
“You said we’d get there!”
“I said we’d try.”
“You promised!”
Daniel felt his own fear sharpen into anger.
“I promised your mother I’d keep you safe, and I’m not going to break that promise because you’re frightened!”
Oliver recoiled.
His father immediately regretted the tone, but the words could not be withdrawn.
Oliver turned away, breathing hard.
Daniel put the phone in his pocket.
For a moment he considered ordering his son to sit down and stop arguing.
Instead, he walked to the bench and sat.
“We need to talk about what happens next,” he said.
Oliver remained standing.
Daniel waited.
Eventually the boy returned, though he refused to sit beside him.
“We could take a train,” Oliver said.
“Possibly.”
“Or a car.”
“Possibly.”
“Then why aren’t we?”
“Because I need to find out whether it’s necessary. Your grandmother has been assessed. She has someone with her. I need to speak to the doctor if that’s possible, check what help she needs, and work out the safest way for us to reach her.”
Oliver wiped his eyes angrily.
“You’re not even worried.”
Daniel looked at him.
“I’m extremely worried.”
“You don’t look it.”
“I know.”
The boy stood beside the bench, uncertain what to do with this answer.
Daniel leaned forward.
“When I’m frightened, I start organising things. I make lists. I ask questions. It probably looks as though I’m not feeling very much.”
Oliver studied his face.
“But you are?”
“Yes.”
“Are you scared she’ll be gone before we get there?”
Daniel took a long time to answer.
“Yes.”
Oliver sat beside him.
Neither spoke for a while.
Then Daniel said, “We could end the cycling part and use transport to reach Palermo sooner.”
Oliver stared at his shoes.
“Would you want to?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“What about everything we’ve done?”
“That doesn’t disappear.”
“But we wouldn’t finish.”
Daniel nodded.
“Not in the way we planned.”
Oliver’s eyes filled again.
He had imagined reaching his grandmother after completing the journey. The two things had become inseparable in his mind: the miles, the effort, the photograph he would take outside her apartment.
But now he had to consider the possibility that the journey itself was becoming an obstacle.
He thought of Teresa standing in her kitchen, perhaps frightened and in pain, while he sat hundreds of kilometres away worrying about whether he had completed the correct distance.
“Can we call her?” he asked.
Daniel nodded.
They waited until Matteo confirmed that Teresa was resting and willing to speak.
Her face appeared on the screen.
She looked tired.
A bruise was beginning to show along her forearm, and she was sitting in a chair Oliver recognised from the kitchen.
“Look at you two,” she said. “Such serious faces.”
“Nonna, are you okay?”
“Of course.”
“Dad said you fell.”
“I did.”
“Why?”
“Because the floor decided it was tired of holding me up.”
Oliver did not laugh.
Teresa looked at him more carefully.
“Oh, sweetheart.”
“Does it hurt?”
“A little.”
“Are you going to be okay?”
“I have every intention of making a nuisance of myself for some time yet.”
Daniel asked several practical questions. Teresa answered most of them before growing impatient.
Then Oliver leaned toward the camera.
“Nonna, we can come faster.”
She looked at him.
“What do you mean?”
“We could stop riding and take a train.”
For the first time, Teresa appeared genuinely distressed.
“Oliver, no.”
“But you’re hurt.”
“I have a bruise, darling. I’ve had bruises before.”
“You’re ninety-three.”
“And I’ve been ninety-three all year. It hasn’t prevented me from being difficult.”
Oliver swallowed.
“I just want to get there.”
Teresa’s expression softened.
“I know.”
He lowered his eyes.
“What if something happens?”
She rested her uninjured hand on the table.
“Then your father and I will deal with it. That’s our responsibility. You mustn’t carry all these worries by yourself.”
Oliver looked up.
“You’re not scared?”
Teresa hesitated.
He had never seen her hesitate over a question about herself.
“Sometimes,” she admitted.
“Of what?”
“Falling again. Getting sick. Being too old to do things I used to do without thinking.”
She glanced toward the kitchen.
“And sometimes of living so far from the people I love.”
Daniel looked away.
“But you know something?” she continued. “I was afraid of things when I was young, too. I was afraid when your grandfather lost his job. I was afraid when your father went away to university. I was afraid when I came home from the hospital and found that Antonio’s shoes were still beside the door.”
Her voice remained steady.
“Being afraid doesn’t mean we stop living. It means we must be sensible about how we live.”
Oliver listened.
“If the journey becomes too hard, come home,” she said. “If you can continue safely, then continue. But don’t hurry because of me.”
“Are you sure?”
“Completely.”
She smiled.
“And when you arrive, I expect you to wash before touching my furniture. You’ve probably picked up half the dirt in Europe.”
