Bologna, 1929. A newborn baby boy is abandoned by his desperate unmarried mother, who
believes he is dead and that she is to blame. Heartbroken, she leaves her
child, accepting that her actions will haunt her for the rest of her days.
But unbeknown to her, the kindness of a stranger means the starving baby
survives. And so begins the extraordinary life of Rinaldo Scamorza…
Following several years in an orphanage, where Rinaldo still holds
onto the hope that his mother will come to claim him, he is entrusted to a
heartless foster-mother who treats her charges as nothing more than
financial opportunities. Yet amidst the cruelty and violence of this
loveless environment Rinaldo meets fellow orphan,
Evelina, and the two children create a bond which they believe will never be
broken.
Rinaldo
holds tight to the few people who show him love, and he becomes a loyal,
intelligent and kind boy. But his life is shattered when aged barely 13,
Evelina is sold into prostitution by their foster-mother.
As he grows up and becomes more resourceful, he finds work as an errand boy
in a brothel, where he encounters Evelina once again. But in his
efforts to help her escape her life of exploitation, another dark misfortune
pulls them apart and she disappears.
When at last Italy begins to emerge from the shadows of World War II and
Bologna’s economy recovers, Rinaldo uses his intimate knowledge of
the city to change his life for the better. But through everything, the
successes and the moments of loneliness and misery, the women he yearns to
see again – Evelina and his mother – are always on his mind…
Fans of Angela Petch, Helen Fripp, Dinah Jeffries, Rhys Bowen and Louise
Douglas will adore this captivating historical novel.
UK - https://www.amazon.co.uk/Lost-Boy-Bologna-Absolutely-historical-ebook/dp/B09TL4VCQT
US - https://www.amazon.com/Lost-Boy-Bologna-Absolutely-historical-ebook/dp/B09TL4VCQT
Excerpt
Here, the protagonist, Rinaldo, is seven years old. He is an orphan living
under the supervision of his uncaring foster-mother, Ada Stracci, in the
city of Bologna. The year is 1936.
Rinaldo realised that his permanent unwell feeling was due to hunger, but he knew that requesting more food from Ada Stracci would be tantamount to requesting a beating. The other children ate their food in rapid, ravenous mouthfuls, but Rinaldo found that eating in such a way only made him hungrier. It was better to eat slowly, taking small bites and chewing for a long time to trick his body into thinking it was a satisfying meal, but it was only a temporary solution. Within an hour of finishing his food, he would be hungry again.
Competition amongst the children was fierce at the table. Each one protected
their plate, defending their food and prepared to stab their fork into any
hand which strayed too close. Every mouthful, every morsel, every breadcrumb
and every smear of sauce was guarded like the most precious thing in the
world.
Evelina would share her supper with Rinaldo by passing things secretly
under the table. She would always tap his foot with hers to warn that
something was on the way, but the other children soon realised what was
going on and didn't like it. They didn’t like the fact that Evelina was
better fed than they were, and they didn’t like the fact that she only
shared with Rinaldo. They threatened to tell, so Rinaldo asked Evelina to
stop. Instead of passing him morsels under the table, she would wrap things
in her handkerchief and give them to him later. Still, it was not enough to
satisfy the appetite of a growing boy.
Rinaldo became entirely obsessed with food. He would stand outside the
pastry shop with his nose pressed against the window, gazing at the cakes.
There were tarts glistening with glazed fruit, pyramids of almond and
hazelnut cones, meringues oozing zabaglione and rich chocolate custard. His
craving was all-consuming. Sometimes it was all too much. It was as though
Rinaldo was being devoured by the cakes.
He had tasted one once. A kind lady had given him a cream-filled choux bun
when he had helped to carry her shopping, and it had been the most delicious
thing that the small boy had ever tasted.
Then one day, as he was walking down a side street not far from Ada
Stracci’s, Rinaldo had stopped dead in his tracks, struck by the hot, sweet
fragrance of a freshly-baked something. Whatever it was, it came from the
sill of a ground-floor window, but Rinaldo was too short to see exactly what
it was. He stood for a while, filling his nostrils with the aroma, until the
ravenous wrenching of his stomach became intolerable.
Snatching up a bucket on which to stand, he found himself at eye-level with
a crostata - a huge baked tart, topped with a thick layer of apricot
jam and latticed with strips of sweet, crumbly pastry. It sat on the
windowsill still in its baking tray, steaming as it cooled. The sight and
smell of it made the boy’s knees tremble so much that he almost fell off the
bucket.
Unable to control himself, he reached out to take it, but the dish in which
it sat was too hot to hold. Rinaldo pulled down his sleeves over his hands
and grabbed the dish. It was not only very hot, but also very heavy. As he
jumped down, the bucket toppled over with a loud clatter, taking Rinaldo and
the crostata with it, but he managed to land on his feet, the
crostata held aloft.
The noise alerted the woman in the kitchen, who leaned out of the window.
To his dismay, Rinaldo realised that he knew her. She was the nice lady who
had given him the choux bun for carrying her shopping.
‘Stop! Thief!’ she cried.
Rinaldo made off as fast as his toothpick legs could carry him. Almost
immediately a man came out of the tobacco shop and gave chase. Rinaldo ran,
still holding on to the crostata, but the heat from the dish was
radiating through his sleeves and his hands were burning. The man from the
tobacco shop was closing in. Rinaldo slipped down a side alley. He would
have run faster, but he was slowed by the weight of the crostata.
‘Oi! I know who you are! You’re one of Ada Stracci’s urchins!’ yelled the
man.
Realising that he had not only been rumbled, but also identified, terrified
Rinaldo. He continued to run, but when he turned to look behind him, he
tripped and the dish slipped from his grasp.
The beautiful crostata flew through the air before hitting a wall
and sliding in a slow, sticky, jammy way to the ground. Rinaldo ducked into
an open cellar and sat blowing on his burned hands. He could hear the angry
tobacconist outside, cursing him. Eventually the kind lady came to retrieve
her baking tray. Rinaldo remained hidden in the cellar until long after they
had gone.
The mess of the crostata had been scraped from the wall, leaving
only a smear of jam. Rinaldo pressed his finger into it and rubbed it on his
tongue to taste it. It made his longing worse.
Although he had not satisfied his hunger, Rinaldo had learned two lessons
that day. The first: if he was to steal, he would have to be clever about
it. The second: he would never steal from someone unless they deserved
it.
Francesca Scanacapra
was born in Italy to an English mother and Italian father, and her early
childhood was spent in Bologna, the city whose rich history has been the
inspiration for the Bologna Chronicles series of novels. Francesca’s adult
life has been somewhat nomadic with periods spent living in Italy, England,
France, Senegal and Spain. In 2021 she returned to her native country and
back to her earliest roots to pursue her writing career full time. She now
resides permanently in rural Lombardy in the house built by her
great-grandfather which was the inspiration for her Paradiso Novels.
Social Media Links –
Twitter https://twitter.com/FrancescaScana2
Insta @francescascana2
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