David Read Online Free Page A

my bedchamber where none but I will be able to see it,’ she said.
    And your servants , I thought, uneasy about that little maid Vanna looking at me with no clothes on.
    I stowed the rest of the drawings away carefully. I don’t know why. I certainly had no idea then how famous this David would be. Or how dangerous it would be for me to look like him.
    My brother was now completely absorbed in the wax model he was making, based on those drawings. It was less than life-sized, being smaller than me, let alone than that huge old block. I looked at the progress of the wax model every day, drawn by this manikin who had my body and face. No one else was allowed in the workshop, even though the Operai were very interested in what he was doing. He was much too secretive to let them in or show them anything till the model was finished.
    But then my lady hit me with news that put all thoughts of my other self out of my mind.
    We had just finished eating a good dinner at her house and the servants had withdrawn when she chose to tell me.
    ‘Gabriele, dear,’ she began. ‘I’m afraid these lovely evenings of ours are coming to an end.’
    I just gawped like a ninny. ‘Why?’ I asked stupidly. It should have been obvious that she had tired of me.
    ‘I am getting married again,’ she said simply.
    My face must have shown my dismay and disbelief. She had never mentioned another man’s name all the times we had been together.
    ‘Antonello de’ Altobiondi has been courting me for some time,’ she said. ‘And I have a reason now to accept him.’
    You’ll hardly believe that I still had no idea what she was talking about.
    ‘Innocent boy,’ she sighed, taking my face in her hand and squeezing it. She released me with a little shake. ‘I am expecting a child – and that is somewhat disapproved of in a widow.’
    A child! She was carrying my child and this Antonello de’ Altobiondi was going to be its father.

Chapter Three
    After the Sweet, the Bitter
    On our rare days off work my brother took me round the city showing me what he thought were the best works of art. He called it ‘taking me to school’.
    A favourite place of his was Santa Maria del Carmine across the river. It was a short walk from the cathedral and it felt as if we were going out into the countryside but there was the church with its chapel devoted to the life of Saint Peter.
    ‘I used to come here every day when I was a boy – younger than you,’ said my brother. ‘My old master sent me to copy the frescoes – it’s where I got my nose broken as a matter of fact.’
    The atmosphere inside the chapel was so serene I couldn’t imagine any violence happening there. Small groups of young men, obviously apprentices in other artists’ workshops, were sitting diligently drawing.
    I had never seen anything like those paintings on the wall.
    ‘Who did them?’ I whispered.
    ‘Big Tom,’ said my brother, grinning. ‘He was supposed to be helping Little Tom, who was older than him, but Big Bad Tom ran rings round him.’
    ‘Did you know him?’ I asked, surprised by his familiar tone. There was so much about my clever brother’s life I knew nothing about.
    ‘No,’ he said. ‘These were painted long before I was born – nearly eighty years ago. But everyone saw straight away that the younger painter was the greater artist.’
    I looked at the fresco of Adam and Eve being driven out of the Garden of Eden. She was howling with grief and trying to cover her nakedness with her hands. But Adam had his hands over his face and looked inconsolable.
    It made me feel very uncomfortable and set me thinking about my situation with Clarice. She hadn’t for one moment considered marrying me and I suppose I couldn’t blame her for that; aristocratic ladies don’t marry stonecutters, except in old fables. But it was the way she had kept the news of the baby to herself up till now and made this life-changing decision on her own that made me feel sore. As if it