The Bookbinder by Laura Finch

Author:Laura Finch [Finch, Laura]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781466946415
Publisher: Trafford Publishing
Published: 2012-08-16T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Five

Ryl smiled.

She had been looking into the small mirror over the dresser, a thing she seldom did. She was not one to gaze into a mirror, but it had come upon her that thirty-five might be wrinkly, saggy, and thin-haired, things which she had not cared about before, but now suddenly found she did.

She had not had a date since she had left bookbinding school, had not decided on the single life, but had not wanted her days to go any differently than they had. It would not have been fair to call her an old maid, nor would it have been accurate, but she had planned on a craft and had pursued it, letting it lead her where it would. And it had been fun and fulfilling.

But now an attractive man had asked her out, and she had been glad to find smooth skin, a bloom to her cheeks which obviated makeup, and black hair without a hint of gray. She really didn’t know how to date any more, but did not feel particularly nervous about it. She remembered that one should look one’s best, even for dinner at a simple trattoria, and this was Rome. She wanted to enjoy herself and Giorgio, too, even if she never saw him again.

Ryl had gone through her two suitcases to find something elegant but simple, and chosen well: a straight black skirt and a black turtleneck sweater with very small red dots in the knitting which had been made for her by a computer friend in Vermont for whom Ryl had figured out a particularly difficult bookbinding problem. With these she wore a pair of black tights and a red scarf, knowing they would go well with her black coat, the only one she had brought. She dressed and put on her boots, giving the coat another good look-over for dust. There was none, thankfully.

She walked quickly out to the breakfast area, opened up the sliding glass door which was there to keep out the frost, and sat down, her coat unbuttoned in the front. Ryl, straight from her mountains, enjoyed cold night air, and the smell of the evergreens in the monastery garden reminded her of home.

When Giorgio arrived a few moments later, escorted by one of the monks, he shook her hand as she stood up. Then he took her elbow and walked her to the edge of the terrace, beyond which lay the beautiful garden.

“You know, I had a great-uncle who was a monk here,” he remarked, still holding her elbow. “He had been trained in the family business and bound special books for the monks and was also the gardener. At that time the monastery was full of monks who were entirely enclosed, but I suppose some of his work must have gone into this beautiful garden.”

“And beautiful it is,” replied Ryl softly. “Look! It’s starting to snow! Big flakes. How poetic against the evergreens.”

“It is poetic,” said Giorgio in his English accent, still with him from his university years.

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