Read Online Hero on a Bicycle by Shirley Hughes - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Shirley Hughes
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Paolo. “Are they OK? What have they been telling you about themselves?”
But Constanza, he could see, was in one of her maddeningly uncommunicative moods.
“Not much,” was all she would say. “One’s Canadian army and the other’s RAF. I really don’t know much more than that.”
But Paolo was pretty sure that she did and that she was just as full of suppressed excitement as he was.
“Didn’t they tell you —?” he began, but stopped short. Somebody was moving in the living room.
Then a voice called, “Hello? Anyone at home?”
Hilaria! They exchanged horrified looks. She had come in unannounced through the French doors and was wandering nosily around. She strolled into the hall to join them, immaculately dressed as usual in a crisp linen suit.
“Only me,” she said brightly. “I hope it’s all right, my barging in like this. I had to get out for a bit — it’s so boring at home, so I just thought I’d drop by to see what you’re doing. I wondered if perhaps we could listen to some of your records, Constanza. But if you’re busy . . .”
“No, not at all,” said Constanza.
Hilaria glanced sharply at the two plates Constanza was carrying, then at the cellar door. Paolo saw to his horror that it had been left half open. Constanza caught his eye. She reached back with her foot and kicked the door shut, but she was a split second too late. Hilaria laughed.
“So, since when have you and Paolo taken to eating your lunch in the cellar?” she said.
“Oh, we’ve just been helping Maria do a bit of cleaning up down there. It’s so full of junk.”
“Fascinating! I just adore junk. You never know what treasures you’re going to find. Food as well, it seems. You must let me nose around there sometime.”
“Sure, but not in that white suit, Hilaria,” said Constanza, thinking quickly. “It’s terribly dusty down there. Let’s go up to my room.”
But Hilaria seemed in no hurry to leave the hall and began wandering around, idly picking things up and putting them down again.
“It’s chaos at home,” she said. “Too depressing for words! Packing cases everywhere. Mamma and Papà don’t feel safe in Florence any longer, and we’re planning to go to Lake Como, if we can manage to get there. But Aldo doesn’t want to leave. He’s got all sorts of deals going with the German administration here, and he’s worried he’ll miss out on the money they owe him. He’s such a good businessman, you know. I don’t really want to leave either, to be honest. Mamma says there’s only room for one suitcase each in the car, and that means leaving most of my clothes behind. Can you imagine having to choose what to take! It’s too awful.”
“I can’t believe that you’ll be very popular here when the Allies arrive,” said Paolo.
“You don’t know anything about it,” said Hilaria coolly, “so don’t pretend that you do.”
“Oh, come on upstairs,” Constanza put in quickly.
They were halfway up the first flight when they heard a muffled noise from the cellar. Hilaria paused and looked back.
“It sounds as if Maria could use some help down there,” she said. But at that moment, Maria herself bustled into the hallway from the kitchen, making it plain that if anyone was down there in the cellar, it wasn’t her.
H ilaria stayed for nearly two hours. Paolo hardly knew how they got through her highly unwelcome visit. Reluctantly, he had to admire the cool way Constanza dealt with the situation. She had managed somehow to laugh off Hilaria’s curiosity about what had gone bump in the cellar, saying that they must have piled up so much junk that it had toppled over and — oh, dear! — they would probably have to start cleaning up again later. Fortunately, it was Hilaria’s unwillingness to get her white suit dirty that finally made her lose interest.
After Constanza had managed to maneuver her upstairs and Paolo heard the familiar sound of the gramophone playing
But Constanza, he could see, was in one of her maddeningly uncommunicative moods.
“Not much,” was all she would say. “One’s Canadian army and the other’s RAF. I really don’t know much more than that.”
But Paolo was pretty sure that she did and that she was just as full of suppressed excitement as he was.
“Didn’t they tell you —?” he began, but stopped short. Somebody was moving in the living room.
Then a voice called, “Hello? Anyone at home?”
Hilaria! They exchanged horrified looks. She had come in unannounced through the French doors and was wandering nosily around. She strolled into the hall to join them, immaculately dressed as usual in a crisp linen suit.
“Only me,” she said brightly. “I hope it’s all right, my barging in like this. I had to get out for a bit — it’s so boring at home, so I just thought I’d drop by to see what you’re doing. I wondered if perhaps we could listen to some of your records, Constanza. But if you’re busy . . .”
“No, not at all,” said Constanza.
Hilaria glanced sharply at the two plates Constanza was carrying, then at the cellar door. Paolo saw to his horror that it had been left half open. Constanza caught his eye. She reached back with her foot and kicked the door shut, but she was a split second too late. Hilaria laughed.
“So, since when have you and Paolo taken to eating your lunch in the cellar?” she said.
“Oh, we’ve just been helping Maria do a bit of cleaning up down there. It’s so full of junk.”
“Fascinating! I just adore junk. You never know what treasures you’re going to find. Food as well, it seems. You must let me nose around there sometime.”
“Sure, but not in that white suit, Hilaria,” said Constanza, thinking quickly. “It’s terribly dusty down there. Let’s go up to my room.”
But Hilaria seemed in no hurry to leave the hall and began wandering around, idly picking things up and putting them down again.
“It’s chaos at home,” she said. “Too depressing for words! Packing cases everywhere. Mamma and Papà don’t feel safe in Florence any longer, and we’re planning to go to Lake Como, if we can manage to get there. But Aldo doesn’t want to leave. He’s got all sorts of deals going with the German administration here, and he’s worried he’ll miss out on the money they owe him. He’s such a good businessman, you know. I don’t really want to leave either, to be honest. Mamma says there’s only room for one suitcase each in the car, and that means leaving most of my clothes behind. Can you imagine having to choose what to take! It’s too awful.”
“I can’t believe that you’ll be very popular here when the Allies arrive,” said Paolo.
“You don’t know anything about it,” said Hilaria coolly, “so don’t pretend that you do.”
“Oh, come on upstairs,” Constanza put in quickly.
They were halfway up the first flight when they heard a muffled noise from the cellar. Hilaria paused and looked back.
“It sounds as if Maria could use some help down there,” she said. But at that moment, Maria herself bustled into the hallway from the kitchen, making it plain that if anyone was down there in the cellar, it wasn’t her.
H ilaria stayed for nearly two hours. Paolo hardly knew how they got through her highly unwelcome visit. Reluctantly, he had to admire the cool way Constanza dealt with the situation. She had managed somehow to laugh off Hilaria’s curiosity about what had gone bump in the cellar, saying that they must have piled up so much junk that it had toppled over and — oh, dear! — they would probably have to start cleaning up again later. Fortunately, it was Hilaria’s unwillingness to get her white suit dirty that finally made her lose interest.
After Constanza had managed to maneuver her upstairs and Paolo heard the familiar sound of the gramophone playing
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