Read Online Song Above the Clouds by Rosemary Pollock - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Rosemary Pollock
Ads: Link
him, crinkling her eyes a little against the glare. “Thank you—it’s very nice of you to take so much trouble. But I don’t want to be a burden to anyone. I can easily wander around by myself for a while, and then just take a bus or a taxi back to Miss Marchetti’s flat.”
He hesitated, looking for a moment as if, having salved his conscience by making his offer of assistance, he were now going to remove himself and let her do exactly as she suggested. And then he shook his head. “In Rome it’s too easy to be lost. Tell me where you wish to go and I will take you there.”
“Oh, but I couldn’t do that,” she protested rather vaguely. She would have liked to wander off by herself, for she was feeling, tense and suddenly exhausted after the morning’s ordeal, and she thought that finding her way alone through the sunlit, crowded streets would have been curiously relaxing. “I want to buy some sunglasses, she added, as if this admission might induce him to give her her freedom.
“ Then first I will take you to a farmacia, and you may select a pair. ” He was holding the car door open for her, and she had no option but to climb inside.
They drew smoothly out into the mid-morning traffic, and reacting to the gentle warmth of the sun on her face, and the superlative comfort of the Fiat, Candy gradually began to feel more relaxed. After about five minutes they came to an excellent chemist’s shop, where a smiling Italian girl helped her choose a pair of sunglasses from a range so varied and bewildering that by the time she emerged into the street again she was feeling almost dizzy, and the glasses she had chosen suited her so well that no fewer than four members of the male sex turned to give her an interested second look as she made her way from the shop doorway to the car.
But her escort hadn’t entered the shop with her, and by the time she rejoined him he had got back into the driving-seat and was staring broodingly through the windscreen. He got out with courteous alacrity to open the car door for her, but he made no comment on the newly acquired sunglasses, and his sudden air of abstraction made her feel uncomfortable. She decided he must all at once have recollected some sort of engagement which made being burdened with her rather tiresome, and she quickly apologized for keeping him waiting outside the shop.
“If you haven’t got time to drive me back to Miss Marchetti’s flat I could still do what I intended to do,” she assured him. “If you drop me here—”
He looked at her. “I have all the time in the world, signorina .” And then after a moment he added: “Well, if n ot quite that, at least I can offer you to-day.” The car increased speed a little, and he looked at his watch. “Do you take pleasure in hot chocolate?”
She was a little amused by his way of phrasing the question, but she answered : “Yes. Very much.”
“Then I will take you to a cafe where one may see the whole of Rome pass by, and there you will taste chocolate which is worthy of the name.”
For another two or three minutes they wound their way through the crowded, sunlit streets, and then the Conte found a suitable parking space, and when he had manoeuvred his sleek white car into it they both got out, and he guided her across the busy street to a place where, despite the fact that it was November, a few white-painted tables were already being arranged on the wide pavement. The cafe proprietor obviously knew the Conte well, and as they sat down amid the cheerful morning bustle of Rome he pulled their chairs out for them himself. He also looked at Candy as if she were quite the most delightful thing he had seen for months, and she was relieved when he disappeared to attend to the hot chocolate.
“I’ve never seen a pavement cafe before—not a real one, I mean,” she told the Italian beside her. He had put on dark glasses himself now, which made him seem more detached than ever, and when she spoke he
He hesitated, looking for a moment as if, having salved his conscience by making his offer of assistance, he were now going to remove himself and let her do exactly as she suggested. And then he shook his head. “In Rome it’s too easy to be lost. Tell me where you wish to go and I will take you there.”
“Oh, but I couldn’t do that,” she protested rather vaguely. She would have liked to wander off by herself, for she was feeling, tense and suddenly exhausted after the morning’s ordeal, and she thought that finding her way alone through the sunlit, crowded streets would have been curiously relaxing. “I want to buy some sunglasses, she added, as if this admission might induce him to give her her freedom.
“ Then first I will take you to a farmacia, and you may select a pair. ” He was holding the car door open for her, and she had no option but to climb inside.
They drew smoothly out into the mid-morning traffic, and reacting to the gentle warmth of the sun on her face, and the superlative comfort of the Fiat, Candy gradually began to feel more relaxed. After about five minutes they came to an excellent chemist’s shop, where a smiling Italian girl helped her choose a pair of sunglasses from a range so varied and bewildering that by the time she emerged into the street again she was feeling almost dizzy, and the glasses she had chosen suited her so well that no fewer than four members of the male sex turned to give her an interested second look as she made her way from the shop doorway to the car.
But her escort hadn’t entered the shop with her, and by the time she rejoined him he had got back into the driving-seat and was staring broodingly through the windscreen. He got out with courteous alacrity to open the car door for her, but he made no comment on the newly acquired sunglasses, and his sudden air of abstraction made her feel uncomfortable. She decided he must all at once have recollected some sort of engagement which made being burdened with her rather tiresome, and she quickly apologized for keeping him waiting outside the shop.
“If you haven’t got time to drive me back to Miss Marchetti’s flat I could still do what I intended to do,” she assured him. “If you drop me here—”
He looked at her. “I have all the time in the world, signorina .” And then after a moment he added: “Well, if n ot quite that, at least I can offer you to-day.” The car increased speed a little, and he looked at his watch. “Do you take pleasure in hot chocolate?”
She was a little amused by his way of phrasing the question, but she answered : “Yes. Very much.”
“Then I will take you to a cafe where one may see the whole of Rome pass by, and there you will taste chocolate which is worthy of the name.”
For another two or three minutes they wound their way through the crowded, sunlit streets, and then the Conte found a suitable parking space, and when he had manoeuvred his sleek white car into it they both got out, and he guided her across the busy street to a place where, despite the fact that it was November, a few white-painted tables were already being arranged on the wide pavement. The cafe proprietor obviously knew the Conte well, and as they sat down amid the cheerful morning bustle of Rome he pulled their chairs out for them himself. He also looked at Candy as if she were quite the most delightful thing he had seen for months, and she was relieved when he disappeared to attend to the hot chocolate.
“I’ve never seen a pavement cafe before—not a real one, I mean,” she told the Italian beside her. He had put on dark glasses himself now, which made him seem more detached than ever, and when she spoke he
Similar Books
