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A novel by Eric Melma

Page 28

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The italian lady

A little while later, an Italian lady walked towards him from a shopping street, and he was instantly taken with her. He guessed her to be about twenty years old, a few years younger than himself. The Italian woman had a small, beautiful head, a long neck and sparkling eyes and she moved very elegantly. The physician stared at the charming lady, who looked to be high-born and he was unable to avert his gaze. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen and his heart was pierced by Cupid. Most people did not show off their beauty, but Italians did; the lady was walking around wearing very conspicuous clothing. She was wearing a purple velvet gown with puffed sleeves and an open white collar. The Venetian-style garment flared from her waist down to the ground, held up by hoops. Dozens of them! In addition, her black hair was bound on top of her head as an ornament, decorated with jewels. Around her neck she wore an expensive-looking pearl necklace. While the breathtakingly beautiful lady was walking towards Michel, her dress majestically dragged on the ground and the longer he looked at her, the more unearthly he began to feel. When the Italian woman walked past him, chatting with two gentlemen and a matron, she suddenly gave him a candid look. A spell was cast. He melted like wax, under her unexpected gaze, and he felt as if his life was now just beginning.
“Good heavens,” he stammered, totally rattled. And while he kept staring at her he was shaking like a leaf. He suddenly felt very small and more vulnerable than he had ever thought possible. After years of only visiting patients, he had completely forgotten about love and now the sun was beginning to shine in the crevices of his soul. During the heartbeat that their eyes met, she was also struck by a love arrow and she blushed as she continued on her way with her companions. Michel’s heart was aflame and he determined he absolutely must court this woman. The love-struck admirer jumped up, threw some money on the table and ran after the Italian woman. He followed the little group from a distance and feverishly tried to think of a way to approach her. The lady sensed him behind her, but did not dare to turn around and look and finally entered an establishment. The unsteady physician almost started to panic.
Now what? he wondered. A serving girl happened to be leaving the same place at the same time. He noticed and called out to her: “Miss, could you please tell me when that last group of people leaves, because I have something to discuss with them.” The servant looked at his neat appearance and responded as he had hoped: “You are an acquaintance of the De Vaudemonts?”
“More or less,” he twisted the truth. She became talkative and told him that the company would be returning to the Lot en Garonne that coming Saturday. He had the information he wanted, thanked her and returned to Saint Rémy on cloud nine. There, he began to make plans to meet the woman of his dreams. During lunch, a changed housemate sat at the table.
“You’re in a good mood,” Father remarked.

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