Aitana

By Ugo Moriano

A trip into the western Liguria, dictated by Cardinal Rafael's need to bring comfort to a Monsignor friend of his, will lead Aitana to a small community of nuns grappling with a possible case of violence against a young girl. The Toledan nun will strive to end that story and will not do that with prayers or reasoning, but employing much more effective and convincing tools.

• Language: English
• Publisher: COEDIT Edizioni
• Release date: Jul 6, 2020
• ISBN: 9788835861171

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Cover graphic project: Valentina Belloni

Copyright © 2020 COEDIT Edizioni s.r.l.

www.coedit.it – [e-mail]

UGO MORIANO

AITANA

A story proceeding

The angel of pain

.

To my friends Marco, Mirko, and Valentina

.

This is a work of fiction.

People and places are the author’s creations and are intended to give truthfulness to the novel. Any analogy to facts, people, places, and events, living or disappeared, are completely random.

I

Four days had passed since his arrival in Italy, when Cardinal Rafael Torres Velasquez, proceeding with caution due to advanced age, descended the concrete ladder skirting the high retaining wall connecting the road to the beach below.

After just nine steps, a sudden, very painful twinge in his left knee forced him to tighten his grip on the iron railing that surrounded the staircase, reminding him, if necessary, that beyond a certain age the privilege of living is frequently compensated from an abundant series of tribulations.

Sir, do you need help?

No Aitana, everything’s fine. Thanks to this beautiful day, I was too bold while trying to go down, forgetting that I’m no longer a boy. The cardinal replied, turning to the nun who was looking at him worried. Now, I shall be more careful, and everything will be fine.

Perhaps we should have chosen another beach. The religious one joined her hands together as if in prayer. A more accessible one, like the one we passed ten minutes ago.

No, this one is just fine. Look at the beautiful rocks emerging from the sea.

The high prelate, after dispensing a reassuring smile to the nun, resumed his descent towards the expanse of gray pebbles that sloped down to the shoreline.

In reality, he was not entirely sure he was doing the right thing, indeed, if he had found himself in the shoes of Aitana, he would have reiterated his doubts with much more fervour.

If then I can not get up again, since there are no access ramps but only stairs, you will be forced to ask for help.

Despite that thought, he did not stop, he just proceeded with more attention to his grip, which became firmer on the handrail, worn down by time and salt.

In the previous days together, with his inseparable assistant, they had followed some religious functions in the co-cathedral, Basilica of Saints Maurizio and Compagni Martiri, which rises up on the Parasio of Porto Maurizio. However, that morning they had moved to the other part of the city.

They had attended the ten o’clock mass in the collegiate basilica of San Giovanni Battista in Oneglia, and finally, after a cordial conversation with the parish priest, they went for a walk on the nearby harbour quay. Speaking with a fisherman, the cardinal learned of this beach, on which he was now about to descend, located in the easternmost part of Imperia.

On the last step, he stopped