Free David by Mary Hoffman Page A

her, but her family were all around her on this saint’s day and very interested to hear about my adventures in the city.
    I had to give them all an expurgated version, of course, and all too soon it was dusk and I had to start the long walk back. Rosalia came with me to my parents’ house.
    ‘It’s too cruel,’ she said, ‘to see you for only one hour after you’ve been away so long.’ There were tears and I think disappointment that I had brought her no Saint Nicholas’s Day present. I felt that I was a very poor lover.
    And holding Rosalia in my arms to kiss her goodbye I felt worse than that – a rat and a worm, who had betrayed her simple and honest love.
    When we set off back to the city, I was in a whirl of emotions. Angelo by contrast seemed almost serene.
    ‘You have a good family,’ he said.
    I just grunted.
    ‘And if that pretty girl is your sweetheart, you are a lucky devil,’ he added. ‘Are you serious about her?’
    ‘I am,’ I said, though I felt pretty miserable about Rosalia at that precise moment.
    He looked sideways at me. We were striding out with our cloaks over our faces, walking into the wind, but I knew he was assessing my sincerity.
    ‘Don’t agonise about it,’ he said kindly. ‘I know you’ve been up to some unwise games in Florence but your Settignano girl need never know. Save your money, come back and marry her and be true to her ever after and there will be no great harm done.’
    He was right. If only I could have taken his advice sooner.

    There was time for only the briefest of bites to eat at Lodovico’s house. The older Buonarroti was in a foul mood because he had wanted to spend the whole day with all his sons, remembering their mother; he was angry that Angelo had deserted them without a word.
    I escaped to Visdomini’s house as soon as I could and was a little late.
    My head was full of images of mothers – my own living one and Angelo’s dead one. And of Rosalia, who I wanted to be the mother of my own children. And that sent me back to thinking of Clarice, who must be big with my child by now. It seemed to me that I had made an awful mess of my life in just nine months.
    Grazia let me into Leone’s studio and gave me a nice smile. I smiled back. Maybe life was not so bad after all.
    Leone wanted me to pose without my clothes and to hold a piece of cloth that he would transform into a lion’s skin in his painting. There was a fire in a small brazier and a stack of wood beside it and the little apprentice was staying awake to feed it so that I should not catch cold.
    The painter had not got far with his sketch when the door opened behind me. I longed to snatch the cloth around my loins but did not dare move. There was a swish of some rich cloth on the stone flags of the floor and Andrea Visdomini came into view. He circled me and then went to look at what Leone was doing.
    I was glad of the candlelight and firelight so that the lord would not see the colour of my face. He was examining me and the drawing as if he would like to buy me. I suppose in a sense he had.
    I was just wondering if I should stop coming to this house when I heard the door open again. A muffled noise told me that the newcomer was female. This time I covered my nakedness with the cloth and turned to see Grazia in the doorway, her hand to her mouth. Visdomini looked highly amused.
    ‘What is it, girl?’ he asked. ‘Can’t you see I am busy?’
    ‘I’m sorry, my lord,’ she stammered. ‘But you have visitors. Ser Altobiondi and his friends are here.’
    I grabbed my clothes and ran. Tonight I would go without payment or any supper.

Chapter Seven
    Beginnings and Endings
    I thought I had burned all my boats at Visdomini’s but there was no way I could have borne any more evenings of people walking in on my nakedness without warning. I cursed my prudishness as I walked to work next day, not only because of the money and the extra food, but because Grazia’s announcement of the