For Writers
By Writers
|
For Writers
|
|
By Writers
|
A Lady From London
by
Steve Emmanuel
Roberto accepted his Uncle Carlo's proposition to come to England for a year or two to help him in his restaurant. Then he was going to sell up and retire on the proceeds to the outskirts of Rome where his older brother and family were living.
Roberto's English was not too bad, as he had learned it at university. His father had also been able to help him as he had learned English when he was a prisoner of war in England for three long years. His two sisters were studying the language too and many times they all spoke English at home.
At the beginning of September 1965 Roberto set foot in England for the third time. The first few months were difficult. He missed everything he was attached to in Italy; the family, friends and the climate, but he had given his word to his uncle that he would stay in London for a couple of years and he wouldn't let him down.
Uncle Carlo, a tall and well built man and still very attractive, had been a widower for the previous two years. He had no children and not many relatives that he could trust except his older brother's family in Italy, so he had convinced Roberto to come to him whilst he was waiting to get a job in Italy as a newly qualified accountant.
The old man very quickly realised that Roberto was homesick, and one day he called him in and told him frankly, "My son, I don't want to see you unhappy on my account. I understand you are young and being in a foreign country may not suit you. Although I need you here with me I don't want to be a burden to you. I don't want to see you unhappy so if you want to return to Italy then you are free to go. I will try to do my best here. Of course it will be hard as I am not as young as I used to be, but I will manage. I could sell everything now and go back to Italy for good, on the other hand I would have liked to exploit the situation for a little bit longer…perhaps for another year or two, because you know how much profit I'm making, and part of it will belong to you one day. Who do you think I will leave everything to when I die? To your family of course. My wife, God bless her soul, she was the only child and her mother and father are dead, so my nearest and dearest are my brother's family. Anyway I don't want to see you so miserable. You have been in London for nearly three months, in which time you have not been certain that you like it here. I am not blaming you, I understand you are young and maybe you don't want to be tied down. I have done my best to introduce friends to you of your own age and it seems you do very well with them, but then melancholy overpowers you and that worries me. I have tried to help you, or is there someone you love? Do you miss a girl?"
Roberto shrugged his shoulders and with a smile assured his uncle that there was nothing to worry about and that he would take life easier as soon as he had settled down more. He had plenty of friends already. In fact, it didn't take more than a few months before he acquired a few more, not only English and Italians, but other nationalities. He started to frequent the ballrooms more, or other places of enjoyment, especially when he had a half day off in the week. Sometimes, if he started early in the morning at 8 o'clock and opened the café side of the business, he finished work earlier in the evenings. Sometimes on Sunday, when the restaurant was closed, he would use the small van or the car, which belonged to his uncle, or go in one of his friends' cars to different places to enjoy themselves. Yet no matter how late in the night he arrived home, he was always punctual for work, especially now that cheerfulness was taking over from the melancholy as he got more used to the Londoner's way of life. Everything seemed to be easier and for each day of the week that passed by, he felt happier. Uncle Carlo felt more satisfied to see his nephew full of life. He knew Roberto could sort out everything on his own, especially at work. Nor was he short of money or women, just as he wasn't when he lived in Italy. So, with his youthful and healthy life, he passed the days looking forward to what every new dawn would bring.
***
As usual this Sunday, the beginning of February, he went to the Gaumont Ballroom. It wasn't the first time he had visited this luxurious ballroom; here he had been introduced to new friends, male and female, but this Sunday was different than all the others. On that day he went with his English friend George, not like other times when he had been with his best friend Mario, called the Sicilian, and other friends of his regular group.
After he finished dancing with a young lady, he courteously took her back to her group of two girlfriends and a fellow who were sitting around a table at the far end of the Hall. He thanked the young lady again, then, he waved to a group of young ladies who were at a nearby table having a drink.
When he joined them he asked, "Have you seen George?"
"I think he's at the other end of the ballroom with two gorgeous girls," answered one of the young ladies. " And don't forget to come back," the other girl said cheekily.
He walked through the massive, confusing room where, sure enough, in one corner he saw George having a conversation with two ladies. When he got to them he gave a wide smile and said, "Hello" without taking too much notice of the two young ladies.
"I've been looking for you for the last half hour, where have you been?" asked George.
"I have had a couple of dances with Mina," now looking at the two young ladies. "Well are you going to introduce me to your friends?"
"I was going to," answered George. First he introduced Mary, and Roberto gave her a big smile, bowed slightly and shook her hand. "Pleased to meet you."
Mary smiled back, "Pleased to meet you too, I'm sure."
"This is Sylvia," continued George.
Roberto didn't say anything, only shook her soft hand and exchanged smiles and straight away he was attracted to her eyes.
"So you're the wolf with the thieving eyes," said the beautiful Sylvia with her golden hair and blue eyes. Then she quickly bit her lip and looked at Mary with embarrassment.
"I'm very surprised, " smiled Roberto. " 'Didn't know I was a wolf."
"Of course," answered Sylvia, this time blushing. " Everybody talks about you."
The orchestra started to play a waltz, in contrast to some of the previous modern dances, full of noise, where the body twists to the beat of the drums and the vibration reduces the brain to a state of trance, lost in emptiness.
The people a little older advanced with calmness to the dance of the past, with serenity and romanticism. The very young retreated with bewilderment at the contrast of the music. But Roberto and many others had adapted to the now so called, 'old and modern music'. Roberto invited Sylvia to dance and she accepted very willingly. He excused himself to George and Mary before disappearing amongst the dancing crowd in the Hall. Each time Sylvia and Roberto looked at each other sweet smiles appeared on their faces. For Roberto the more he looked at her the more he wanted to look. An incomparable beauty, he was saying to himself, as the beat of his heart was increasing. Never before had he felt hopeless and almost embarrassed as he did now. Soon the dance was over. They thanked each other and slowly walked back to Mary and George.
"Shall we go for a drink upstairs?" suggested George.
"Why not," answered Roberto, now looking at Sylvia and Mary, "If these two lovely ladies are joining us. Will you please?"
"Why not," replied Mary promptly and with that Sylvia accepted too.
The four of them went to the next floor up which was very richly furnished and paid for drinks that were more expensive than they were downstairs. They selected one of the few empty tables near a corner, which looked very comfortable. They let the ladies sit first on the well- padded, red armchairs. Roberto looked for one of the waiters but they were serving at the other end, so he decided to go himself after asking the ladies what they would like to drink.
"Dry Martini with ice please, " answered Mary.
"And Sylvia?"
"Gin and orange please, no ice thank you."
George followed him.
A nice looking young lady in a black short sleeved, mini dress and a white apron, didn't take long to approach the two men and asked them what they wanted to drink.
"Two bitters, a dry Martini with ice and gin and orange please."
As the young lady was preparing the drinks Roberto mumbled to George, "I have never seen such a beauty."
" Who do you mean?" asked George.
"Not you for sure. Sylvia."
" Don't tell me you are in love already," smiled George with a grimace.
"Who is talking about love, I'm talking about women. What do you understand about them uh! What a beauty, what eyes, what a body, what legs and what lips. Seems they are a magnet and saying bite me gently."
Touching his shoulder George gave a sad smile and confessed he and friends had seen the two women about six or seven times before but never managed to spend more than a few minutes with them.
In the meantime Roberto took his change from the young bar lady and George carried on.
"I think It's been more than a year that I've seen those two here and like I said, we have all tried to take them for a drink or chat them up longer. I've seen them dancing a few times with groups doing modern dancing but I have never seen them with anyone. Now with you they accept just like that, without any fuss."
"Don't be so unhappy George. Come on, you court Mary who is also beautiful and I will court Sylvia. But tell me, if they have been coming here for a year, how come I have never seen them before?"
"Because nearly always they come on a Saturday and you never come then. Also this last five or six Sundays, Mary told me, that they come they sit on the balcony and watch other people dancing. Anyway you haven't been here that often. Let's go, we're wasting precious time."
"Why?" asked Roberto.
"It seems stupid but believe me, those two women are a mystery and nobody understands them, especially this Sylvia. Many have lost their head over her and you'll see, they'll find an excuse and leave us flat."
"Could be, could be," answered Roberto. "But for the moment let me go on admiring that beauty."
When they reached the table Roberto excused himself for being so long as the bar was crowded. Meanwhile George passed the drink to Mary and Roberto to Sylvia. They both smiled and said 'Thank you' as George and Roberto sat down.
"Is this the first time you have come dancing here? " Roberto asked Sylvia, to start a conversation.
"No," she answered, examining Roberto's cheeky face. "If it had been the first time how could I have known that you were the wolf?"
"I am very sorry I forgot," said Roberto. "But I can swear, and this is the honest truth, I have never seen you two here before."
"How could you have done if you are always busy with young ladies?"
Roberto was going to say something but instead he only gave her a gentle smile, not taking his eyes off her face. She returned his look.
They sat taking no notice of George and Mary's conversation. Roberto sipped his drink and gestured Sylvia to drink too, still looking into her beautiful eyes. She looked into his eyes for a few more seconds then lifted her glass and took a short sip. A few moments later she was holding the glass between her hands and twisting it around gently, looking at the bottom of the glass.
Roberto was painstakingly examining all her movements, one moment looking at her lips moving with a sweet slowness as the tip of her tongue gave a gentle lick across her perfumed lipstick; next looking at her eyes slowly opening and closing as she looked at the bottom of her glass as if searching for something. Then he looked at the delicate hands, velvet rose skin. She let her slender fingers play with her drink. The well- manicured nails beat gently, nearly soundlessly on the glass.
"Something wrong?" asked Roberto gently, trying to break that silence. Sylvia raised her eyes without moving her head and then, squeezing her lips returned to looking at the glass. Smiling to herself she answered, "It seems funny! "
"What's funny? " said Roberto.
"Oh! Nothing…I'm sorry, stupid things go through my mind."
"Please yourself, but I would like to know. I am curious what goes through your head."
"Well!" she exclaimed, slowly sitting up a little straighter as if she was trying to find some courage. "It seems you're curious and I admit that I am too. I'll tell you the reason as long as you don't get offended or take it the wrong way."
"God forbid," assured Roberto. "I'm sure your beautiful lips wouldn't let pass an offensive word through them. Come on, tell me."
Now Sylvia looked straight into his face. "When I come here I've heard from many young ladies that no woman can resist the look of your eyes. It needs only a few seconds to have them falling into your arms."
Roberto smiled and without being immodest thanked her then said, "This is the first time I have heard that, are you sure you aren't mistaken? There are many English, Italian and other foreigners here who have plenty of talent and reputation with women, especially the ones with beards and long hair. Women go more for them these days and compared with me, how do you say in English…I am quadrato. I believe you say, 'I'm square,' he said, realising that the translation might not be quite right. "Are you sure you haven't been mistaken?" he carried on by now, blushing a bit.
"No I'm sure," she answered without hesitation. "You see, before I met you tonight I knew about you. I've told you, they don't do anything but talk about you."
"So! Looks like I am somebody, a film star maybe! A god of love. Well, well."
"Exactly," answered Sylvia. "That is why I was looking at your eyes a few minutes ago. I find them really beautiful but not to the extreme of hypnotizing a woman. Well not me at least, but I do like them."
"Good, better that way," as he offered her a cigarette.
"No thank you, I don't smoke very many, only about five or six a day."
"Come on, an extra one won't kill you," Mary said as Roberto offered one to her and George.
"Well yes, I might have one as well," said Sylvia. Roberto smiled and passed her one. She took out a slim gold coloured lighter from her handbag but before she lit it Roberto gave her a light with his.
"Thank you," she said, taking the cigarette out of her mouth and letting a little puff of smoke escape. "I'm very sorry I've spoken that way, I don't know what came over me. I must be drunk already." Giving Mary a quick look, she moved her head as if to say, 'Let's go'.
Mary smiled and tried to distract Sylvia who had fallen into a miserable mood and quickly said: "It seems these young men haven't seen that the glasses are empty."
Roberto and George apologised, then George excused himself again and by touching the arm of the waiter who was passing close to them, he ordered the same for the ladies and a Brandy for himself and Roberto.
Sylvia asked him not to order for her.
"Don't be daft," commented Mary smiling. "Come on, get merry. We'll pay this time."
"Let George pay this time," said Roberto with a smile. "And please, if you ladies don't mind, we invited you up here so no argument as to who pays, okay!"
"Who wants to argue," said Mary with a broad smile.
"Come on, come on," said Roberto touching Sylvia's arm gently. "What is the matter, have I offended you in any way?"
"Oh no, no," answered Sylvia quickly, just as if she had come out of a trance and Mary looked at her with a little sadness showing on her face.
"I'm okay." She smiled at Mary and then looked at Roberto again apologetically and carried on answering his previous question. "You haven't offended me in any way. Maybe I offended you with what I said before and I apologise."
"You don't need to," Roberto assured her. "As a matter of fact you have pleased me."
"And made him a big head," laughed George.
"Oh shut up, you know I have never been a big head."
They all started to laugh and at the same time Roberto was scrutinising Sylvia's face as she looked at Mary. The waiter approached with a tray and asked whose drinks they were as he deposited the glasses on the table and picked up the empty ones.
They were all smiling as they thanked the waiter and George paid. Roberto was still studying Sylvia and tried his best to understand why she had made an effort to change her mood, why so often she exchanged looks with Mary, but he couldn't comprehend anything. Mary was very forward, not biting her tongue, and seemed to be very happy in contrast to Sylvia who appeared to be miserable and tormented. She seemed to need a push with everything, although she was forward with one or two questions or answers. Between the smiles there were lines of sadness. Although her English was impeccable and very refined, giving the impression of a daddy's girl, it seemed that every word was forced. But there again that wasn't really of any interest to Roberto, for the moment his mind was concentrating only on her beauty.
They chattered for another half hour then decided to go back to the dance floor. This time Mary accepted George's invitation to dance and seemed cheerful and talkative. Sylvia always kept a smile on her face as they danced and every time Roberto tried to gently pull her close to his chest she moved back just as gently.
"Can I see you tomorrow night?" he asked. "I mean go to a cinema or whatever you wish to do, or maybe for a meal."
"I'm very sorry," she answered promptly. "Tomorrow night I have something to do, but if you wish we can meet here again next Sunday."
Roberto put his hand inside the breast pocket of his jacket and pulled out a visiting card, passed it to her and nearly missed a step.
"Is this your restaurant?"
"No, it belongs to my uncle, but I enjoy some privileges, if you come it will give me much pleasure. The food is exquisite and I will pay."
The music stopped and the conductor announced the next dance was the last but one.
"Might as well finish the last two dances if you don't mind."
"Of course not," she smiled.
"Anyway I really would like you to come to the restaurant."
"Thank you, but I don't think I can make it. But I will keep the card, you never know," she said putting it into a small black purse where she kept her cigarettes. The music started again.
"You dance very well," he said, moving his cheek closer to hers and gently trying again to hold her closer to him. "Very, very well for a young lady to this old type of music."
"Thank you," she answered. "You also dance very well." This time she seemed comfortable being held closer to him.
Sylvia saw Mary not far away still dancing with George. Mary nodded her head as if to encourage Sylvia to move even closer. George saw the nod but he couldn't make head or tail of what was going on, so they just smiled at each other.
"You are so beautiful," whispered Roberto as she rested her cheek against his. He slowly moved his head and scrutinised her face. "Your beauty is incomparable."
"Thank you. You'll be telling me I'm Miss World next," she said.
"For sure I wouldn't exchange you for any beauty queen," he said as he touched her chin. "Why have you become so serious again, are you sure I am not offending you?"
"Oh no, no, I thank you for the compliments. As a matter of fact tonight I've made quite a few of your girls jealous. One or two have given me nasty looks."