Voices In The Evening by Natalia Ginzburg Read Free Book Online Page B

because it seemed to give her ‘an air, as they used to say at home in Borgo Martino, like an old kangaroo’. This was a word which in their slang meant ‘a madame.’
    In imitation of Xenia she bought some tight trousers of black velvet. But Nebbia said they did not suit her, because they accentuated her hips.
    She took offence at that and told Vinoenzino that he could shut up, could Nebbia, and his wife, too, always dressed in ridiculous bits and pieces.
    She got
grissini
from Torre and sent Pinuccia to buy the strawberries at Castel Piccolo. Pinuccia would return, heated and sticky after coming up the path in the full sun, but without any strawberries, because they had already been all taken, early in the morning by those people at the Villa Rondine.
    Occasionally she went to La Casetta to see Signora Cecilia Cecilia showed her her hydrangeas, carnations and roses, and also a clump of moss-roses grown from seeds brought by Purillo from Holland.
    Sometimes she went to Le Pietre, Barba Tommaso would meet her at the garden gate, and kiss her hand, brushing it lightly with his old cheek so rosy and well shaved. This was because he liked it to be said that he was still rather a roué, and that at seventy he could still pay court to the ladies.
    Magna Maria was there, too, with her grey hair brushed back and her long red nose which had a wart on one nostril, the size of a pea, and she would offer, her some apricots and a glass of sweet wine; she would embrace her and then embrace her again and keep saying,
    'How are you? Are you well? Splendid, splendid! And the children? Splendid, splendid! And your mother? Splendid, splendid! But how splendid yon are!’
    She was not a bit amusing, all the same, that Magna Maria.
    She got into the habit of going to the mountains every Sunday with Nebbia, Purillo and Raffaella for rock-climbing in the summer and ski-ing in the winter.
    Raffaella behaved herself like a rowdy boy; she came down the slopes bawling like a wild thing and thumping everyone on the back with her hands heavy as lead. In the free air of the mountains she let herself go more than ever. She particularly delighted in playing tricks on Purillo, giving him soap when he asked for cheese, and cheese when he wanted soap. Or she put chestnut husks down his neck, which she had brought specially from the garden. Purillo patiendy disentangled these husks from his woolen pullover. They were harmless tricks, rather stupid, learnt at school.
    They all made fun of Purillo because he was such a Fascist, and they mimicked him receiving the Party officers at the works, and being lavish with the Roman salute.
    Purillo would smile, arching his little moudi, pushing Raffaella’s hand away as she gave him a punch in the stomach, heavy as lead.
    Towards evening they stopped off at the rest house to have some mulled wine and sing,
    Linda, Linda, my only true love
,
    You’re cosy indoors, I’ve the heavens above!
    It was Nebbia’s song.
    But Nebbia was always in a hurry to get home if he was not to find Pupazzina in a huff. Catè used to chaff him then for being afraid of Pupazzina.
    They had left the car at Le Alpette, a little village on the road. It was always Nebbia’s car, because Purillo—he and his Isotta-Fraschini—kept his in swaddling-clothes.
    Catè used to find Vincenzino still sitting up, reading with his glass of whisky. She would try a little sip of it and make a grimace because she did not care about the strong flavour.
    â€˜How goes it, darling?’ he said.
    And he went on reading. She went to undress and chose a nightdress from the chest of drawers. She had a great many nightdresses; she liked pretty fine ones of embroidered silk, of
chiffon.
    â€˜What a pretty nightdress!’ Vincenzino said, coming in to undress.
    She said,
    â€˜When I was a little girl my mother made me wear nightdresses of flowered flannel with long sleeves, which I could not bear.’
    And