It is few minutes to midnight. The last trains are rolling in to stazione St. Lucia howling their goodnights. In front of me is the calm blackness of Canale Grande, a huge full moon sits in the sky above and I am sitting on steps of the train station. Venice is otherwise empty of people. More beautiful for its silence and the fact the architecture is not hidden by masses of tourists. It looks like a theatre setting.
I am a little nervous. Will it happen? I await.
This morning I woke up in Principe de Savoy hotel in Milan with Nina and Ernest asleep in the huge feather bed. We had danced all the artfair after-parites down to the last in some warehouse and left at 6am, than had our own. Over-believing the abilities of my stamina I had arranged the second date with A at 10 am.
Dropped into a boiling bath, creamed up with Acqua di Parma boubles trying to smell wholsome and classical. Painted a new halthey face on. Clad in a borrowed t-shirt over cocktail dress arrived in the park earley and sat in a outdoor bar selecting a spot hit by sunrays, trying not to shake noticeably form the cold or last night's votka lemons, sipped a squished orange .
Starting form afar, and sneaking from behind trees , A. took photographs, as if he neded evidence that i had been. He invited me to vine and cheese tasting in a quaint restaurant for our first date, and after splitting separate ways and had gone straight to bed in order to wake up for me this morning fresh. The obvious dedication of this tame patridge was furstrating to a hunting hound even if the geekeyness was rather exotic.
What had drawn me to A was sharp appreciation of aesthetic whith a specialization in boys necks, which succeeded in being amused indeed for whole hours with the fantasy of kissing his white marble neck, whilst he described the wonders of Michelangelos marble piece on my first trip to Milan and its castle.
It was hard to belive that this so very good boy had fallen for me. He still lived with his parents. Folowed in his fathers footsteps. Studied art histroy to a doctors degree. Is preparing to inherrit one of the bigest art museums in Milan from dady according to Nina. All very square and neat. I had left home to sudy in Lodnon years ago, moved to Rome after graduation, and had something of phantom romantic triangle going on in the eternal city, which consisted of artiees who of course where haunting in Milan at this very moment and where more than partially reason why I had stayed up so late dancing.
Yet apart form his beauty , A was a well spoken gentleman, who wore velvets and wool, and proper shoes the way good boys do in back in England , who opened doors, and I felt nostalgia for company in which I was the princess.
We walked trough the centre of Milan, every corner and street in had stories which he revealed ,I forgot being exhausted, and Milano gained a soul beyond its face of shops and art galleries. As a contrast to coolness of Romans wanting to be courted, or the madness they chase with once thy where ignored, it was almost unreal to experience open calm affection making me so very excited when he insisted I should meet him that same day, before I took the train to Budapest.
Returning to the hotel, I had to go trough whole procedure of waking up my friends again. I was high on the feeling of a new in-loveness and quite hysterical with laughter. To try tame me Ernest suggested I dance naked in the window. In such state of exhilaration I took the dare and off the cocktail dress, climbed into the window and waved to bewildered taxi driwers in front of the hotel. Slightly feeling outdone as naked was his trademark since he pranced so, at his cousins wedding, Ernest had to jumped into the window to show me how to naked it better, and whilst nina snobbed us attacking her laptop as usual, we pranced about like chimpanzees in a zoo until rashness took on a new logic, to put on bathrobes, hit the lift for the pool. Swimmers and their goggled eyes got a Sunday moring peep show in the water. After a calming, breakfast of everything buffay had to offer, washed by champagne, of course I had to see A again.
Wiping away all traces of mischief at our original apartment I dressed in the English way used to make believe female innocence compleate with pearls. Thus I met with A, and we idlicaly shared an ice cream on sun and daisy filled fields of his university, and kissed for the first time, goodbye.
On the train to Budampest I felt sick, and needed to get out for air, when the train drove off without me. Night was setting. There where no other trains for Budapest. Several hours to wait even before the next train for Venice.
He phoned, so, of course I challenged him, to choose the damn magic or not.
It is now 10 minutes past midnight and despite the warm weather I am beginning to shiver. The night is a dark place. I keep nervously scouting behind into the open train-station to see that no thieves or drunks will attack, but there aren’t even any. I am just another tourist with clished fears of the unknown.Venice is a crazy labyrinth where one must get lost to get anywhere, and the truth is at this hour I have no plan as where to sleep.
Realistically how can I expect a man to come all the way from Milano to Venice for me for the one night bound just by the obvious buring cupids arrow which pierced both this morning?
Determined to excuse him not taking a 5 hour train, and to slowly and solve my situation without panic I was too engrossed to notice movement .
Hands closed on my eyes.
Adrenalin plung a few strings in my chest and I jumped swiftly in defense,
to greet A’s eyes and mouth full of laughter.
” I am sorry to be late, I needed to go look for the key ” Immediately forgiven, he took my bags and lead me by the hand trough the moon lit cobbleled streets and bridges to a
beautiful venetian house.
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