One Hot Summer Read Online Free

fountain which sparkled as it rose and fell into a marble basin encircled by alabaster doves.
    The door was black and heavily carved, set in a white arch within an arch of gold mosaic. A huge white bowl of pink geraniums was set on either side.
    ‘But it is quite, quite beautiful, Marco.’
    ‘Thank you. My father created it, out of an old tumbledown house he bought for the sake of the site. He and my mother made it a life’s work.’
    He led her through a cool dark entrance hall, through glass doors into what seemed to be the main room of the villa. It was large and cool, built after the ancient Roman fashion round an open courtyard with a circular pool and another fountain. Banks of lilies grew round the pool, filling the air with their fragrance.
    The floor was white marble, in which were reflected six pendant crystal chandeliers, and the comfortable-looking chairs and sofas, all upholstered in pale blue. Round the white walls, Jan observed six tall black marble plinths, each supporting a fine marble bust. It surprised her that a room so pure in line, so simple—almost austere—could at the same time look so supremely luxurious.
    She had fallen on her feet. To spend the rest of her holiday in this glorious place was something of which she had not dreamed. She now saw the Rome hotel for what it was—fair enough, for those who wanted a holiday without breaking the bank, and didn’t mind roughing it a bit. But noisy, over-full, gone down in the world since the palmy days of the Edwardian travelling English.
    ‘Do you like it?’ Marco asked, with a rather touching pride.
    ‘Very much.’ She looked around curiously. ‘ But why don t you have a view? I’d want huge windows looking over the sea.’
    ‘ And you’d find out your mistake. With you, the sun is a rare friend. Here he can be an enemy. The sea is all around us, and we spend much of our time outside, where we get all the light and warmth we can take. Then we have a retreat into shade and coolness.’
    ‘ Yes, I see. Another difference in outlook.’
    A tall slim lady came towards them, drifting over the white floor like a ghost. She was dressed entirely in black, her skirt touching the floor and a black lace mantilla on her white hair. A peasant dress, made by a master hand in superb material, Jan guessed.
    ‘ Marco! Oh, my dear boy, how lovely to see you. Your father will be delighted. He was saying only this morning how long you’d been away. Is this your dear wife? Bless you, dear. My daughter will be pleased to have a sister.’
    ‘ This is Jan Lynton, Mother. She is English. You must speak English to her, dear.’
    ‘ That’s charming. I never thought you’d marry an English girl, my son.’
    The Signora’s Italian was so pure, her speech so clear and correct, that Jan had been able to follow the conversation fairly well. It did not embarrass her in the least to be thought Marco’s wife. Hospital life quickly cured one of any nonsense like that. But she thought it had embarrassed the man.
    She whispered quickly, ‘ It’s all right, I understand. Please don’t mind on my account.’
    He flashed her a grateful look. ‘ But we must make her understand.’ He turned to his mother again. ‘ Jan is a guest, Mother: Not my wife.’
    ‘ Of course not. I know very well you’re not married. She has come to visit Bianca.’ Then she said to Jan in perfect English, ‘You are most welcome, child. My daughter gets lonely, up on this great rock. Run along and talk to her. You’ll find her in the swimming pool.’
    Marco tensed. ‘ Mother, think. Is Bianca here ?’
    ‘ Where else? This is her home.’
    ‘Excuse me, Jan.’ He raced across the room and out through a porticoed door at the end. In a moment he was back. Catching Jan’s eye, he spread his expressive hands and shrugged, mouthing Not there.
    ‘ Bianca is on holiday, Mother,’ he explained carefully. ‘You remember, she has gone to visit Aunt Giulia-Maria in Florence. Jan is to use