Read Online temptation in florence 04 - expected in death by Beate Boeker - Free Book Online
Authors: Beate Boeker
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whispered into Carlina's ear.
“She adopted him when he was a toddler, during a cruise to Egypt. We have no idea where he came from. He's scary, isn't he?”
“Very.”
“We call him Aunt Violetta's hit man. He never talks, you know. They say he had a traumatic experience in his youth.”
“The adoption, I assume?”
Carlina chuckled. “Before that, you idiot.”
“Why does she sit in a wheelchair if she can walk?”
“She's faster with the wheelchair.”
“I bet.”
Carlina looked around. She waved at her mother who was taking a seat on the other side of the room and nodded at several aunts and uncles. “Funny, I haven't seen Uncle Teo. It's not like him to be late.”
As if on cue, Uncle Teo walked in, accompanied by Olga, who clung to his arm. She was dressed in a flowing dress all in white that strangely resembled a bride's gown. Carlina's eyebrows went up, but before she could do more than register the sudden darkening of her mother's face, Aunt Violetta had noticed the newcomers. “Teo!” she barked. “Come over here and present your friend to me.”
Uncle Teo smiled and obeyed the command with his head held high in pride.
How sweet he is, Carlina swallowed. He really deserves another romance. If only it wasn't Olga.
“Violetta, my dear.” Uncle Teo bent forward and kissed Aunt Violetta's wrinkled cheek. “Happy birthday. May I present Olga Ottima to you?”
Aunt Violetta stiffened. Her eyes widened, and she looked at Olga like someone who has discovered a cockroach in her pasta. “Olga Ottima?” Her voice held a menacing tone. “The Olga Ottima?”
Olga tittered. “I'm not quite sure what you mean, but I've never yet met another woman with the same name, so it's possible that you're talking about me. Has my reputation preceded me?”
“Indeed, it has.” Aunt Violetta's voice was dry. She turned her head and looked around the table at the family who didn't even pretend not to listen in. “Fabbiola!”
“Yes, Aunt Violetta?” With nervous fingers, Fabbiola pushed a strand of hair from her face.
“Is this the Olga who gave you such a hard time during your last year at school? The one who--?”
Fabbiola jumped up. “Yes, Aunt Violetta, that's her. But we don't have to discuss this now. It's not quite the right time. After all, it's your birthday and we should celebrate, not dwell on ancient stories.” She bent down, pulled a voluminous parcel from beneath her chair and went around the table, holding her present out to Aunt Violetta. “I made a very special birthday gift for you. They're hand-knitted bed shoes, very soft and comfy, for cold nights. Maybe you would like to try them on, to make sure that I've got the right size?”
“Not now.” Aunt Violetta held up a hand and concentrated on Olga again. “Olga Ottima.” She stretched out her gnarled hand and crooked one finger. “Olga Ottima.” The words sounded like a curse now, spoken by the booming voice.
The family held their collective breaths.
Suddenly, Aunt Violetta barked in a voice that had them all jump in their seats: “Omar!”
Without a sound, he got up and stood next to her, one hand on her shoulder.
“Look at that woman, Omar.” Aunt Violetta narrowed her eyes as she surveyed Olga from top to toe. “She made my dear Fabbiola's life pure hell when Fabbiola was only a young girl. All because of a young man. She haunted that man until he left his home and his family. I knew his mother well. She never got over it.” She leaned forward, her mouth gaping open for an instant, before she closed it with a snap. “Listen, Olga Ottima. If you dare to make trouble for my family, I will set Omar onto you. You don't know Omar yet.” A dry chuckle. “Omar is my son. He'll do anything to protect our family. Anything, you hear?”
Carlina shook her head to dispel the feeling of being in a bad dream. She had the impression of having strayed into an opera play with too much pathos. Surely, this was pure comedy?
“She adopted him when he was a toddler, during a cruise to Egypt. We have no idea where he came from. He's scary, isn't he?”
“Very.”
“We call him Aunt Violetta's hit man. He never talks, you know. They say he had a traumatic experience in his youth.”
“The adoption, I assume?”
Carlina chuckled. “Before that, you idiot.”
“Why does she sit in a wheelchair if she can walk?”
“She's faster with the wheelchair.”
“I bet.”
Carlina looked around. She waved at her mother who was taking a seat on the other side of the room and nodded at several aunts and uncles. “Funny, I haven't seen Uncle Teo. It's not like him to be late.”
As if on cue, Uncle Teo walked in, accompanied by Olga, who clung to his arm. She was dressed in a flowing dress all in white that strangely resembled a bride's gown. Carlina's eyebrows went up, but before she could do more than register the sudden darkening of her mother's face, Aunt Violetta had noticed the newcomers. “Teo!” she barked. “Come over here and present your friend to me.”
Uncle Teo smiled and obeyed the command with his head held high in pride.
How sweet he is, Carlina swallowed. He really deserves another romance. If only it wasn't Olga.
“Violetta, my dear.” Uncle Teo bent forward and kissed Aunt Violetta's wrinkled cheek. “Happy birthday. May I present Olga Ottima to you?”
Aunt Violetta stiffened. Her eyes widened, and she looked at Olga like someone who has discovered a cockroach in her pasta. “Olga Ottima?” Her voice held a menacing tone. “The Olga Ottima?”
Olga tittered. “I'm not quite sure what you mean, but I've never yet met another woman with the same name, so it's possible that you're talking about me. Has my reputation preceded me?”
“Indeed, it has.” Aunt Violetta's voice was dry. She turned her head and looked around the table at the family who didn't even pretend not to listen in. “Fabbiola!”
“Yes, Aunt Violetta?” With nervous fingers, Fabbiola pushed a strand of hair from her face.
“Is this the Olga who gave you such a hard time during your last year at school? The one who--?”
Fabbiola jumped up. “Yes, Aunt Violetta, that's her. But we don't have to discuss this now. It's not quite the right time. After all, it's your birthday and we should celebrate, not dwell on ancient stories.” She bent down, pulled a voluminous parcel from beneath her chair and went around the table, holding her present out to Aunt Violetta. “I made a very special birthday gift for you. They're hand-knitted bed shoes, very soft and comfy, for cold nights. Maybe you would like to try them on, to make sure that I've got the right size?”
“Not now.” Aunt Violetta held up a hand and concentrated on Olga again. “Olga Ottima.” She stretched out her gnarled hand and crooked one finger. “Olga Ottima.” The words sounded like a curse now, spoken by the booming voice.
The family held their collective breaths.
Suddenly, Aunt Violetta barked in a voice that had them all jump in their seats: “Omar!”
Without a sound, he got up and stood next to her, one hand on her shoulder.
“Look at that woman, Omar.” Aunt Violetta narrowed her eyes as she surveyed Olga from top to toe. “She made my dear Fabbiola's life pure hell when Fabbiola was only a young girl. All because of a young man. She haunted that man until he left his home and his family. I knew his mother well. She never got over it.” She leaned forward, her mouth gaping open for an instant, before she closed it with a snap. “Listen, Olga Ottima. If you dare to make trouble for my family, I will set Omar onto you. You don't know Omar yet.” A dry chuckle. “Omar is my son. He'll do anything to protect our family. Anything, you hear?”
Carlina shook her head to dispel the feeling of being in a bad dream. She had the impression of having strayed into an opera play with too much pathos. Surely, this was pure comedy?
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