‘Come and have a drink,’ I suggested.
‘Grazie, signore. Grazie.’
We went down to the restaurant and I had a bottle of vino brought out to a table on the balcony. The reflection of the sun on the sea was blinding. We talked of fishing and the tourist trade. Then we got on to politics and I asked him about the Communists. The corners of his lips dragged down. ‘Only the Church saves Napoli from the Communists, signore,’ he said. ‘But the Church cannot fight arms.’
‘ How do you mean?’
He shrugged his shoulders. ‘I know nothing. It is all talk. But the arms come in and disappear to the south. They say there is a Communist army in Calabria.’
‘There’s always an army in Calabria,’ I said. When I’d left Naples there had been rumours of a brigand force of 20,000 fully armed with field pieces, even tanks.
He nodded. ‘That is so, signore. But it is different now. It is all organised. I have heard the Conte Valle speak of it with Comandante dell’ Armate del Sud. He is in the Governo and he say arms are arriving all the time and everything go underground.’
‘Did you say the Conte Valle?’ I asked.
‘Si, si, signore. Il conte is in the Ministero della Guerra.’
His mention of the Conte Valle took me by surprise. Somehow I’d got the impression she was a widow. ‘Is that the husband of the Contessa Zina Valle?’ I asked him.