My House in Umbria Page #3

Quinty poured

the Vino Nobile of Montepulciano.

Rosa Chevelli served vegetables...

and Signora Bardini carved

the lamb con rosmarino.

A stranger would have been surprised

to see us:

The walking wounded at table.

I was the only one

who had not lost a loved one...

having none to lose.

- Good morning, Mrs. Delahunty.

- Morning, General.

Thought you might like something to read.

Thank you. Most kind.

Two on a Sunbeam, by Gloria Grey.

- Don't think I know it.

- It's very light. Very undemanding.

- One of mine, actually.

- Yours? You mean, you wrote it?

Gloria Grey is one of several

noms de plume I use.

- I'm most impressed.

- Don't be.

Romantic fiction is not great literature.

Even so, it's quite an achievement

to get a book published.

I persevered.

I have a great talent for perseverance.

There were endless rejections

at first, of course.

Month after month after month.

And then I received a letter.

"We are interested in your novelette.

"We foretell good sales

and a profitable relationship."

- And so indeed it has been.

- That's fascinating, Mrs. Delahunty.

I'd no idea we were staying in the house

of a distinguished authoress.

Scarcely that.

Though I do have my admirers.

Si?

- I know. But you can't do it, Rosa.

- A kiss?

- Someone could see us.

- Who? Mrs. Delahunty?

Why is she jealous?

- Don't be stupid.

- Why?

She doesn't like this sort of behavior

in front of guests.

No, you are ashamed of me.

You don't love me under the sun.

Go inside.

You don't love me.

- Good day, General.

- Afternoon, Quinty.

You speak excellent Italian.

Where'd you learn? Affair of the heart?

It's nothing to be proud of, sir.

I tricked a well-to-do Italian girl

into marrying me back home.

I told her I was the manager of

a meat extract factory, believe it or not.

When she discovered I was lying,

she left me.

Went back to her parents in Modena.

I wasn't going to let her go

without a bit of a fight, so I followed her.

One night, her father and brothers drove me

out to the countryside...

pushed me out onto a grass verge,

and beat the living daylights out of me...

and left me there,

a stranger in a strange land.

That's how I learned Italian, General.

From necessity, as they say.

And so the days passed.

Aimee ate in silence, walked in silence...

painted in silence...

lived in silence.

- What is your work, Werner?

- I'm hoping to become a journalist.

A journalist? What sort of journalist?

Politics.

It's not my favorite subject.

Had you known her long? Madeleine?

Just a few weeks.

She was very beautiful.

She was special. And clever. Very clever.

She spoke a lot of languages, you know.

Even Japanese.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes