Only when Cody's familiar shape had vanished into the shadows at the far end of the road did Luigi break.
He was in deep depression for months. His grandmother had nursed him through it, making him his favourite food, and trying hard to get him past his grief. In the end, she lost her temper with him and as always, as her accent grew stronger, so his comprehension dwindled. He finally stopped her tirade by kissing her on the cheek and promising to try to get better. He went to see a psychiatrist, who made him feel worse, and decided that only time and his own strength could cure the malaise.
Once, Cody had appeared at the flat, just as Luigi was going out. He'd clearly been waiting to catch him.
“Lu, can we talk?”
Luigi held his head high and ignored him.
“Please, Lu. Please talk to me.”
Luigi turned on him and spat, “Go back to Phillippa!”
“Lu . . . I couldn't . . . . I'm sorry . . .”
Luigi crossed to the tram stop, just before a tram arrived. He climbed on board, and watched as Cody's figure diminished as the tram rattled away up Nicholson Street. It was going in the wrong direction but Luigi hadn't cared. He just had to get away before he gave in. Cody's tone had been so desperate, so sad, it near broke Luigi's heart. Or would have, if it hadn't been broken already.
[The image is a still from the film of the 1933 Noel Coward play Design for Living:
The 'la ronde' of relationships between decorator Gilda, playwright Leo and painter Otto all settles down in the end when they decide to live with and love each other much to the absolute horror of their 'straight' friends and loved ones.
Text and image from Cathode Ray Tube]