Hero on a Bicycle Read Online Free Page A

The third and youngest was Lieutenant Helmut Gräss. He spoke good Italian and was exchanging polite conversation with Hilaria and Signora Albertini. He carried himself with a stiff, upright bearing that was at odds with his boyish face. He greeted Constanza and Rosemary eagerly with a heel-clicking salute.
    Paolo stood apart with Maria, attempting a blank, detached expression. He was well aware that after Mass was over, worse was to follow: pre-lunch drinks with the Albertinis. Why did his mother go on accepting their invitations? he wondered. He knew she did not like them and hated to see Constanza being so friendly with Hilaria. The German officers were sure to be there, too, not to mention Hilaria’s smarmy brother, Aldo. He lived at home and had somehow been exempted from military service by wrangling a well-paid job helping to supply food to the German occupying forces. And he is convinced that every woman in sight is in love with him, thought Paolo. He closed his eyes wearily to avoid the sight of Aldo’s jaunty, parrotlike profile engaged in what he thought was sparkling conversation. It was a relief when the bell stopped tolling and they all filed in to Mass.
    The one good thing about cocktail parties at the Albertinis’ was the snacks. Nobody liked to ask where they got them because everyone knew they were available only on the black market, but that did not stop anyone from digging in. Paolo had skillfully managed to maneuver himself into a corner to avoid the general conversation and still be near a large plate of canapés. The guests were assembled on the terrace overlooking an impeccable sloping lawn. White-jacketed servants moved among them, offering cocktails. Signor Albertini, as usual, had placed himself center stage, overlooking his domain. Barrel-chested, he was immaculately dressed and wore a permanent smile, one that sometimes bordered on a grimace and that displayed a magnificent set of gold fillings. All the Albertinis, Paolo reflected, seemed to be equipped with more than the normal number of teeth, all of which were maintained through expensive dentistry. Indeed, the dentist himself was one of the guests, a pale, morose man, the sight of whom made Paolo wince. None of the local tenant farmers or their families were guests at the Albertinis’; they were not considered to be part of the upper-class Florentine circle. Only the big vineyard owners and wholesale vegetable growers — all of whom seemed to be doing very well in wartime — and professional people were invited.
    The three German officers who had attended Mass were now joined by some others from their regiment. Most of them were gathered around either Hilaria or Constanza, laughing and chatting in a mixture of German and bad Italian. Hilaria was, as always, extra vivacious in the male company, giggling a lot and shaking back her blond hair as she tried to keep them all amused. Paolo noticed how her eyes kept straying to Helmut, while his kept straying to Constanza. It is as though everyone here is trying to pretend that the war is a million miles away instead of coming closer all the time, Paolo thought. He’d heard the reports about how the Allied armies were north of Rome and advancing toward Florence. There were rumors that the South African infantry brigades had already reached Orvieto and that the Indian division, which was fighting alongside the Allies, was attacking the German defense line north of Lake Trasimeno.
    Constanza also knew of the Allies’ progress but was careful not to bring it up in her conversation with the officers. In turn, they gave no hint as to the private state of their morale. Everyone knew that all leave had been canceled and that they were now on permanent alert, ready at all times to go into action.
    As Lieutenant Gräss extricated himself from a conversation with Hilaria and made his way toward her, Constanza glanced over at her mother. She knew very well how much Rosemary disliked her being on friendly