My House in Umbria Page #2

- Well, they'll have to pay.

- Of course they'd pay.

- We're not running a charity.

Charity begins at home.

That's not how it is meant,

and well you know it.

We were all discharged

on the same afternoon.

Werner and the General

were happy to accept my invitation.

And since Aimee was apparently

the sole survivor of her family...

the authorities were glad

to have someone to look after her.

Dr. Innocenti would visit us regularly.

If there were any signs of deterioration...

the child would at once

be returned to the hospital.

Signora Bardini. How lovely to see you.

This is our new little friend.

- You are alive. God love you!

- Yes, thank you.

- Mrs. Delahunty, I'm so happy!

- After we've had a drink, thank you.

Take it easy.

We had all decided that the bomb

and its attendant horrors...

should be buried and forgotten.

It was now time to allow

the beauty of the landscape...

to embrace us with its healing balm,

helped, of course, from time to time...

by a little drink on the terrace.

That night, as the child slept,

we dined beneath the wisteria.

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.

- That is clever.

- It was her job.

She worked for a big company

as an interpreter.

I imagined their first meeting.

She, of course, always wore formal clothes

for business meetings...

her natural beauty enhanced

and made more erotic...

by the dark suit and stockings.

And then the first glance, the first smile,

the first tremor of love.

There has to be love in a person's life.

No one can do without

either receiving or giving it.

Of course, I didn't say that to Werner.

Nor did I say that love expired for me

on The Wall of Death.

I'm down here in the laundry room.

- Where?

- Down here.

Follow my voice.

Here.

- Good morning. I have a letter for the lady.

- Throw it to me.

- Good day. See you.

- Bye.

The American authorities

have located Aimee's uncle.

Excellent!

His name is Thomas Riversmith.

Her mother's brother.

He's a professor.

Riversmith. How interesting.

Inspector Girotti sent me a letter.

Isn't that good news?

Aimee has an uncle.

We had a Riversmith at school.

This man's an American.

Thomas Riversmith.

Perhaps she calls him Uncle Tom.

Wonder if she does.

Riversmith and I used to walk into

the village sometimes. It wasn't very far.

A woman called Mrs. Patch used

to give us tea. She charged us sixpence.

We were caught smoking once.

- You and Riversmith?

- It's not a horrendous crime.

A misdemeanor.

Rules were broken, of course...

but nobody stole.

Owning up was taken for granted.

And if you were caught out in anything,

you did not lie.

That's where I learned what honor means.

Do you live alone, General?

Yes, I do. Since my wife died.

All that was going to change.

I was going to go live with my daughter

and her husband in Hampshire...

but I couldn't like him.

I tried.

Just couldn't.

No one can help disliking a person.

My wife was very cross with me about that.

She was a remarkable woman...

and a wonderful wife.

As he spoke, I saw a quayside,

assembled troops...

and a young officer, newly promoted.

Scarcely more than a boy.

The engagement had been announced

on the eve of his departure.

William!

"I love you," she said.

"I'll love you forever"...

her tears staining the leather

of his shoulder strap.

You're welcome to remain here

for as long as you feel like it.

You're not alone in this, you know.

That's a very great kindness,

Mrs. Delahunty. Thank you.

What is it?

Do you want to start it?

Come on, it's funny.

I'm doing it then.

Apart from the people

in your compartment, carrozza 219...

no one on the train was injured.

It was clearly carefully chosen,

your compartment.

One of your fellow passengers

must have been the intended victim.

Perhaps the American?

Aimee's father. He looked important.

A politician, perhaps? A senator.

Or someone close to the President.

He was a child doctor.

The General's son-in-law?

A merchant banker.

It doesn't make sense.

And who would do such a terrible thing?

If I knew, I would not bore you

with my questions.

I come because I do not know.

No one takes the blame.

The newspapers said

it was a terrorist attack.

Perhaps.

What else could it have been?

Who knows?

Some sort of private revenge?

A crazy killer?

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