he had shown in her interview,
he walked through the doors. She was taken aback by the
fact that he was now in jeans and a smart jacket - more
as she had first seen him in Santa Maria della Pieta. Leonora
had somehow, ridiculously, pictured him turning up in
uniform. But he still recalled the painting - what was it?
- and turned the heads of a group of lunching ladies. With
a sort of shock, as he brushed the raindrops from his black
curls, Leonora faced the facts.
He's a very good-looking man. They all see it too.
She felt a whisper of fear.
He greeted her, sat, and summoned the waiter with practised ease. He shed his jacket, and settled back on the bench comfortably. He seemed to have a certain elegance
coupled with an ability to be instantly comfortable, like a
cat. Leonora smiled and waited for their discourse to begin.
She felt suddenly confident. Would he enter straight into
the business of the day or engage in pleasantries first?
`Why are you drinking coffee?'
Leonora laughed. His question seemed so incongruous
that it caught her by surprise.
`You are laughing at me,' he said, caught between amusement and annoyance.
`A little. Why shouldn't I drink coffee? Have I made
some sort of social faux pas?'
`No, no. I just wondered if you were . . .' he searched for
the word, `teetotal. Such a strange English word. I always
thought it meant one totally drank tea.'
Leonora smiled. `No, no, I drink. A lot. Well, not a lot.
But I do like my wine.!
'Good: He grinned. `Due ombre, per favore.' This to the
waiter who hovered at his shoulder.
`What's an ombra?'
Officer Bardolino grinned again. `A shadow.'
`I know what it means. But what is it when it's a
drink?'
`Don't worry. It's just a little cup of house wine. The
name is centuries old. There used to be wine carts in San
Marco in medieval days, and the wine merchants would
slowly move the carts all day to stay in the shadow of the
Campanile. To keep the wine cool.'
The waiter set down the cups on the dark wood board.
Leonora tasted the wine and felt that its flavours were
enhanced by the story. `I love tales like that. But I've not
been able to read a guidebook since I got here. It's almost
like I'm too busy seeing, and living, to read.'
Her companion nodded. `You are right. Better to find
these things out as you go, from those that live here.
Guidebooks are full of soundbites.'
She smiled to hear his opinions chiming with her own.
`Tell me more about this place.'
He returned the smile. `In a soundbite? Casanova used
to drink here.!
'Is that why you brought me here?'
I shouldn't have said that. How presumptuous and ... clumsy.
I'm behaving like a schoolgirl.
`You thought that was a line,' he said, with a perception which
surprised her. `I actually brought you here because of the glass.'
He indicated the mirror. `It is unique. This double-looking
glass is famous because it was the largest mirror made of its
time in which the panes are perfect twins. I thought it might
interest you, as you work on Murano'
I've misjudged him. Have I ruined the day by being flippant?
Should I tell him about Corradino?
'Officer ...'
`Please, for God's sake, call me Alessandro: The humour
was back, thankfully.
`I love it here, thank you.'
He smiled again, then resumed his businesslike mask.
`Did your fornace fill in the counterfoil of your form for
you?'
`Yes.' Adelino had obliged again.
`Then bring it by next week and we should be able to
wrap up this work permit. Then if you get a flat too, you
can get your permesso di soggiorno.' He waved away her
thanks.
After a pause, Leonora spoke. `Can I ask you a question?'
He nodded.
`It seemed to take you less time than the others. How
come?'
Alessandro stretched. `I detest paperwork, so my only
solution is to cut through it as quickly as possible. My
colleagues - they hate paperwork too, but their solution
is to bury it with more paper, to hope that it goes away.
See,' he dug out
he walked through the doors. She was taken aback by the
fact that he was now in jeans and a smart jacket - more
as she had first seen him in Santa Maria della Pieta. Leonora
had somehow, ridiculously, pictured him turning up in
uniform. But he still recalled the painting - what was it?
- and turned the heads of a group of lunching ladies. With
a sort of shock, as he brushed the raindrops from his black
curls, Leonora faced the facts.
He's a very good-looking man. They all see it too.
She felt a whisper of fear.
He greeted her, sat, and summoned the waiter with practised ease. He shed his jacket, and settled back on the bench comfortably. He seemed to have a certain elegance
coupled with an ability to be instantly comfortable, like a
cat. Leonora smiled and waited for their discourse to begin.
She felt suddenly confident. Would he enter straight into
the business of the day or engage in pleasantries first?
`Why are you drinking coffee?'
Leonora laughed. His question seemed so incongruous
that it caught her by surprise.
`You are laughing at me,' he said, caught between amusement and annoyance.
`A little. Why shouldn't I drink coffee? Have I made
some sort of social faux pas?'
`No, no. I just wondered if you were . . .' he searched for
the word, `teetotal. Such a strange English word. I always
thought it meant one totally drank tea.'
Leonora smiled. `No, no, I drink. A lot. Well, not a lot.
But I do like my wine.!
'Good: He grinned. `Due ombre, per favore.' This to the
waiter who hovered at his shoulder.
`What's an ombra?'
Officer Bardolino grinned again. `A shadow.'
`I know what it means. But what is it when it's a
drink?'
`Don't worry. It's just a little cup of house wine. The
name is centuries old. There used to be wine carts in San
Marco in medieval days, and the wine merchants would
slowly move the carts all day to stay in the shadow of the
Campanile. To keep the wine cool.'
The waiter set down the cups on the dark wood board.
Leonora tasted the wine and felt that its flavours were
enhanced by the story. `I love tales like that. But I've not
been able to read a guidebook since I got here. It's almost
like I'm too busy seeing, and living, to read.'
Her companion nodded. `You are right. Better to find
these things out as you go, from those that live here.
Guidebooks are full of soundbites.'
She smiled to hear his opinions chiming with her own.
`Tell me more about this place.'
He returned the smile. `In a soundbite? Casanova used
to drink here.!
'Is that why you brought me here?'
I shouldn't have said that. How presumptuous and ... clumsy.
I'm behaving like a schoolgirl.
`You thought that was a line,' he said, with a perception which
surprised her. `I actually brought you here because of the glass.'
He indicated the mirror. `It is unique. This double-looking
glass is famous because it was the largest mirror made of its
time in which the panes are perfect twins. I thought it might
interest you, as you work on Murano'
I've misjudged him. Have I ruined the day by being flippant?
Should I tell him about Corradino?
'Officer ...'
`Please, for God's sake, call me Alessandro: The humour
was back, thankfully.
`I love it here, thank you.'
He smiled again, then resumed his businesslike mask.
`Did your fornace fill in the counterfoil of your form for
you?'
`Yes.' Adelino had obliged again.
`Then bring it by next week and we should be able to
wrap up this work permit. Then if you get a flat too, you
can get your permesso di soggiorno.' He waved away her
thanks.
After a pause, Leonora spoke. `Can I ask you a question?'
He nodded.
`It seemed to take you less time than the others. How
come?'
Alessandro stretched. `I detest paperwork, so my only
solution is to cut through it as quickly as possible. My
colleagues - they hate paperwork too, but their solution
is to bury it with more paper, to hope that it goes away.
See,' he dug out
Similar Books
