Читать книгу The Savage Garden - Mark Mills - Страница 9

Did you see him before he left?

Briefly. I told him you were resting.

I wanted to see him. Wake me up next time.

Of course, Signora.

Did he say anything?

About what?

The garden, of course.

No.

Nothing?

He was very silent.

Silent?

Distracted.

He’s handsome, don’t you think? Tall and dark and slightly dangerous.

He’s too pallid.

It’s not his fault, Maria, he’s English.

And he’s too thin.

A bit, I agree.

He needs fattening up.

That will come with time. He hasn’t grown into his body yet.

I think he’s strange.

Really?

When he left, I saw him walking back and forth between the cypresses at the top of the driveway. Big long steps.

Interesting.

Worrying. It must be the heat.

No, it means he’s worked it out.

Signora?

The cypresses taper towards the top of the driveway.

Taper?

The two rows narrow as you approach the villa – to increase the sense of perspective.

I didn’t know.

That’s because I don’t tell anyone.

Why not?

To see if they notice. Only two people have ever noticed. Three now.

And the other two?

Both dead.

Let’s hope for the Englishman’s sake there’s no connection.

You know, Maria, you really can be quite amusing when you want to be.