Read Online A Private Venus by Giorgio Scerbanenco - Free Book Online Page A

inanimate things, provided they weren’t dolls or toy dogs with eyes that frightened him as much as human eyes frightened him. However, he did spend some time looking at the assistant on the pastry counter, a specialist in pralines who was somewhat behind with the fashion, with her bouffant hairstyle: the one she wore that day was not the most bouffant, the previous week he had seen one even more bouffant, and the size of that hair suddenly gave him the urge to go back to the park and this time stop. But it was only a sudden whim, the various hidden censors inside him blocked that resurgence of passion and suggested something more spiritual: going to Florence and back, along the Autostrada del Sole, trying to beat his own record of the month before, which was already a very short time. He would eat in Florence and get back to Milan in time for an aperitif. He liked the idea and immediately left the Alemagna.
    In the Via dei Giardini, the Giulietta, improbably, was the only car parked in a stretch of about twenty metres near the bus stop. He paid the parking fee to the man in the peaked cap, who immediately walked back into the shade, and he was about to squeeze himself back into his car when he heard that voice.
    ‘Excuse me.’
    He turned. A girl in a sky-blue suit, with large, perfectly round dark glasses, was smiling at him, but with a hint of anxiety about her mouth, which apart from her small nose, was the only part of her face that was visible, covered asit was by those large glasses and by her brown hair that descended over her face like two half-closed curtains.
    ‘Excuse me, signore, I’ve been waiting for a bus for half an hour, I have an important appointment and I’m already late—could you possibly give me a lift to Porta Romana?’
    Davide Auseri nodded and opened the door for her. She got in and sat down composedly, placing on her knees a light brown leather handbag which looked more like a large man’s wallet, and he set off.
    ‘What street exactly?’ he asked.
    ‘Oh, right at the end, if you’d be so kind.’
    ‘Of course, I was going that way myself.’
    ‘I’m so pleased, then I won’t be making you waste too much of your time.’
    His guest’s knees were not completely uncovered, but they were visible and he could look at them as he drove.
    ‘I know it was shameless of me, but you can never find a taxi when you need one.’
    Maybe it was her voice that put him on the right track, but not only the voice. He was a solitary man, and solitary men think a lot. Above all, even though he was no expert, he had the impression that the bus that went through the Via dei Giardini didn’t go to Porta Romana. And right next to the bus stop there was a taxi stand, and he had seen a long line of them. All the traffic lights in the centre had been on his side, and now he was in the Piazza Missori. The closeness of the girl and the sight of those knees, not to mention the heat, must have made his censors give up the ghost.
    ‘Do you like travelling by car?’ he asked her.
    ‘Very much, with a good driver.’ Her voice continued to change, its softness had turned inviting.
    ‘I’m going to Florence, along the autostrada. We can be back by six this evening, seven at the latest.’
    ‘Florence is a bit far.’ The softness of her voice had diminished a little, but she made no mention of the important appointment she was supposed to have had.
    ‘We’ll be back before dinner,’ he said. All his censors had vanished by now, and the real Davide Auseri emerged from the depths of his subconscious.
    Her voice turned a little harsh. ‘I wouldn’t like to be dumped in the middle of the road.’
    ‘I don’t do things like that.’ His voice, too, had turned harsh, it even slightly resembled his father’s voice.
    The girl took off her glasses and threw back her hair, her eyes were a little tired and a bit afraid, but her expression was sweet, almost innocent, and she said innocently, ‘I’ve always wanted