Renaissance of the Heart - Part 3 - Sex Stories

Renaissance of the Heart - Part 3

... trace the records for that sale, it would add to the provenance. Maybe it had an attribution.” Elanora ran her finger down the large green-covered A to Z. She looked up at me and held out her hand. “Let me see the letter.” “Hmmm… it’s odd there is no street with this name in Rome.” “There must be!” “Okay, let’s not give up, but some would say using Google is a last resort, but we will do it.” Elanora tapped at the keyboard of her laptop as I waited impatiently. “Ah!” “What?!” “Oh. No. I can only see one Via Azzo Gardino and it’s in Bologna. Maybe the sale was there?” “No, Elizabeth’s great uncle was in Rome. The sale was in Rome, I’m certain of that.” “Well, I don’t know what to say, it’s not in the directory, which is very unusual. Anyway, you can leave the painting with us.” “Thank you, Elanora. I appreciate it.” “That’s okay. Oh by the way, if you’re interested, I’m playing in a little recital tonight, if you want to come. A few friends and I are playing some Vivaldi and Scarlatti.” “Domenico or Allesandro?” I asked. “Oh! so you are a lover of the music? Allesandro, we are playing. I will give you the address, there is a bar and we have a little following. The atmosphere is good.” “I wouldn’t miss it for the world, thank you!” I left Elanora to her work and headed back into the centre of Rome for a coffee, relieved that I had set the ball rolling but feeling more than a little trepidation. Drawing a blank on the earlier sale was a bit of a blow. A text to Elizabeth ...

... confirmed what I already knew, that the sale was in Rome, without doubt. Maybe this Vincenzo had written down the wrong street, though that didn’t seem particularly plausible. I picked my way back to my hotel, now recognizing certain features, which enabled me to build a good mental map of the city. The opportunities to linger around places of interest and beauty were endless. Entrance fees to places were very reasonable. I passed an hour or three wandering around a huge museum that consisted of statues of various Roman Gods. There was Neptune and his trident, Mercury with his winged hat and the boss of them all – Jupiter, who posed reclining, with one finger pointing into the distance, no doubt summoning a bolt of lightning. I was struck by the fact that these and other notable characters like Hercules were sculpted with very small genitalia. Maybe some kind of antiquarian political correctness forbade a realistic anatomical likeness. Who knows? There seemed to be something to look at on every corner. There was a museum, which was full of every kind of musical instrument from primitive pianos and lutes to guitars and trombones. There were inviting little restaurants and cafes, which I made mental notes of, though I hardly could guarantee to pass the same way twice with the network of streets and alleyways. As arresting and absorbing as it was, I was missing Elizabeth and couldn’t help think how much more I would have enjoyed it, in her company. It was all the more frustrating now ...