‘Ah, Chief, give me a chance. A chance for Gennaro, the singer with his heart in his hands. The women will fall at my feet.’
I try to shake him off, but he sticks like a limpet to a rock.
‘I thought you were married?’
‘Marriage is a signature on a sheet. My heart belongs to all beautiful women.’
I struggle to imagine a guy like that making conquests, but for the first time in the day, I find myself laughing. A genuine laugh. A man after my own heart.
‘Gennaro, really. I can’t get you auditions. It’s not my field.
But if you want some advice, you should do something to make yourself more… universal.’
‘Why, isn’t love universal?’ he replies. Which actually makes perfect sense…
‘You should… I don’t know… change style, take elocution lessons, learn to behave in a certain way.’
‘I can’t afford to do all that. And anyway, if I changed myself, I wouldn’t be Gennaro any more. When I hold my heart in my hands, what would I be holding?
Wow. I’m genuinely amazed
‘I didn’t take you for a philosopher, Gennaro. I’m impressed.’
‘Love speaks through many voices, Chief. One day I’ll let you hear my songs. I swear to you that no woman can resist. I’m not good looking, but the way I make them feel, they can’t help themselves.’
I shake my head. ‘I don’t believe it. All women are interested in is the casing. Money, success and looks. If you don’t have those you’ve no hope.’
‘That’s because you haven’t found the right woman. The right woman doesn’t look at your wallet, but at what beats inside your chest.’
With a final jerk, I free myself and reach the safety of the building, where security will keep him away. As far as I’m concerned he talks a lot of nonsense.
After a two-hour meeting that I pretended to understand, I leave the studios, resolving to put my perfect plan in motion. The first step is to understand what she likes. I know that women like flowers. So I have to find out what her favourites are.
Silvio’s house has been off limits for me since the wedding. I can’t stand the idea of seeing my footloose drinking buddy shackled by his new married life. But all’s fair and love and war, and this is definitely war.
The door is opened by Sonia, the friend-thief and ruiner of lives. I repress my instinctive dislike for her and treat her to my trademark dazzling smile. Unlike her sister, Sonia does not seem to be repelled by me, because she at least returns my smile. What a relief! The problem is inside Sara’s head then. I’m sure it can’t be me.
‘Teo! We were expecting you months ago!’ she reproaches me good-naturedly, with a playful pout. These are the women I wish I had around me. I certainly wouldn’t marry one, but this is how it should be.
‘Work,’ I mumble, ‘You know how it is.’ She obviously doesn’t fall for it.
‘As if I didn’t know your type! What work? You were in mourning and you needed time to come to terms with it.’
‘You got me. Sorry.’
She shrugs. ‘I get it. Change is never easy. Can I get you something? Silvio is in the shower, but I don’t think he’ll be long.’
‘No thanks. I’m here, actually, because I wanted to talk to you.’
‘Me?’ she asks in amazement.
‘Yes. You see… I behaved badly with your sister and… I wanted to apologise. ‘
His expression becomes hostile. ‘Badly how?’
I hold my hands out. ‘Not like that! I didn’t even touch her.’
‘Well?’
‘Well, we kind of fell out a bit, and… I… in short, I was a bit of an arsehole. Nothing irreparable, but I wanted to make it up to her.’
‘When did you fall out? The last time I saw you together, it was three months ago.’
‘Well, ah, there’s a place we both hang out…’
‘The beautician?’
‘You think I go to the beautician? Why would I need a beautician? Fine. We met at university’
‘What were you doing at the university? Are you the caretaker?’
‘Very funny. If you must know, I have resumed my studies.’
Sonia comes over and puts her hand on my forehead. ‘Do you have a fever? This is not like you.’
‘No, I don’t have a fever. I really went back to university. I met Sara and… maybe I wasn’t too friendly. I like to think I’m a person who owns my mistakes, so I would just like to make amends and move on.’
What can I say. I should be an actor. Maybe one day I’ll do a casting.
The doubt on her face disappears in a nanosecond.
God I love simple women!
‘Well, good for you! What did you have in mind?’
‘Flowers. Everyone likes flowers, right?’
‘Not Sara. She’s an environmentalist. ‘What’s romantic about killing things?’ she always says.’
I should have known. Nothing about her is normal. ‘Then what can I do?’
Sonia ponders for a moment and then lights up.
‘She likes poetry. Get her a book.’
The idea seems stupid to me. ‘But how do I know she doesn’t already have it?’
‘True, her house is basically a massive library… wait! I know. She has been looking high and low for tickets for the ballet at the San Carlo. They’re staging The Nutcracker at the end of the month and it’s sold out. She’s been boring on about it for three days.’
‘I know people who could get tickets for me.’
‘Yes! She will fall at your feet,’ she squeals, hopping up and down.
‘I’m not trying to make her fall at my feet,’ I interject gravely. I mean, I am, but my motivations are not noble at all.
‘Poetry, ballet and macarons. These are the things she loves more than anything else.’
Macarons? Good to know. Indeed, it has inspired me with a war strategy that not even Caesar could have devised. Sara is doomed.
While drawing up my action plan, I hear Silvio leave
the shower and soon he enters the living room, stopping abruptly in the centre of the room.
‘I must be dead, there’s no other explanation. It cannot be that Teo Pagani has finally come to my house.’
Sonia hugs him affectionately. ‘He has finally recovered, darling. And what’s more, it seems he has a heart, after all. He wants to apologise to Sara for how he behaved.’
‘Is that right?’ he asks without turning to look at me. ‘Sonia, honey, if I asked you nicely to get coffee for me and Teo, would you mind?’
‘Sure, I’ll leave you two to catch up.’ She seems to understand that he wants to talk to me alone.
As Sonia leaves, Silvio comes over and sits on the arm of the sofa. He doesn’t look happy.
‘Do you want to tell me what you’re doing?’ he asks, in a threatening tone.
‘It’s not a crime to try and be kind.’
‘It wouldn’t be, but we’re talking about Teo Pagani. You’re up to something. ‘
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘Sara is my sister-in-law.’
‘I haven’t forgotten.’
My friend leans towards me. He looks genuinely angry.
‘I don’t know what you’re thinking of doing, but I know you too well. I have seen that expression a hundred times before. And, believe me, in a previous life I would have liked like to hear all about your questionable plans. But we are talking about my family and I’m not seeing the funny side. Spit it out.’
I give up. Silvio knows me too well.
‘She rejected me,’ I confess.
‘And…? What do you care? I didn’t think she was your type.’
‘She’s not, for pity’s sake! But she humiliated me, and you know I can’t let that go.’
‘Maybe you should stop believing that the world revolves around you. Just grow up, for god’s sake. Take the blow and grow.’
‘I can’t, and you know it. I’ve never been go
od at anything, but with women I never lose. Consider it a way of preserving my self-esteem.’
‘Your self-esteem is nuclear-bomb proof.’
I look uncomfortably at my hands. ‘Obviously not.’
‘I didn’t think you suffered from insecurity, mate.’
‘It’s not a question of insecurity. Or maybe it is. I don’t know, okay? I just don’t like feeling like I don’t have the situation under control. And that’s what happens with Sara, and… it bothers me very much …’
And Silvio understands. He understands that this is important to me. That I need to prove something to myself.
‘It’s useless to try and change your mind, isn’t it?’ he asks, already knowing the answer.
‘Totally useless.’
He sighs, resigned. ‘I know nothing about it. I don’t want to get involved in this.’
‘You won’t be,’ I promise.
This is my battle. A battle I will win, I swear it.
12
Sara
The first week of the course has flown by and Teo is nowhere to be seen.
He seems perfectly happy to throw away the one slim chance he had of passing the exam, but why should I care, after all? His grand idea was probably just the whim of a moment. He’s probably already forgotten all about it and gone off running after some girl with no brain. Oh well, all the better for me – one less hassle to deal with.
Meanwhile, I’m going through this magazine article for the forty-fifth time. The professor liked the first draft, but he gave me some suggestions to improve it. I can only work on it when Eleonora isn’t around. She doesn’t approve.
She’s right, I know. What I’m doing is shameful and wrong, but my career is important to me, and I really want that professorship. If I have to write a couple of articles to get it, well, that’s a price I’m willing to pay. And I also know that this attitude does not reflect my usually combative nature, but like Darwin says, those best able to adapt to their environment survive in the end. And that’s exactly what this is. Survival.
There’s a knock on the door and remember that it’s Wednesday. It will be some student come to tell me about his inability to get on with the textbooks.
‘Come in!’ I sigh, taking off my glasses and reclining my head backwards.
‘Good morning!’ says a voice that, alas, I know all too well.
‘I thought you were dead, but apparently I was wrong. Oh well.’
‘I’ve missed your sweet temperament, you know? My day just doesn’t feel complete without you showering me with insults.’
I look up. This guy has the ability to annoy me after two seconds. ‘What do you want?’
‘What do I want? Isn’t it obvious? I want my weekly dose of semiotics.’
I’m about to reply that I could inject the sum-total of human knowledge into his veins in liquid form, and he’d still be a hopeless cause, but the words die in my throat when I see him pull a small package from behind his back.
‘What is it?’ I ask, curiosity getting the better of me.
‘A peace offering. I thought this could be the ideal time for something sweet to nibble on and a coffee. Go on, open it.’
‘Are you sure there isn’t a bomb in here?’ I ask doubtfully, putting the package to my ear. I’m reasonably sure I can’t hear ticking.
Then, in spite of myself, I join in with his laughter. ‘You really are absurd! Is it so hard to believe that I wanted to do something nice for you?’
I give him an eloquent look. ‘You?’
‘Me. I wanted a treat and these are my favourites. Shall we find out if you like them too? ‘
Hmm, if he’s eating them too, that means he probably hasn’t spiked them with poison or laxatives. I remove the packaging and I’m in heaven: arranged in a neat row and by gradation of colour, a dozen macarons sit there looking up at me.
‘This is paradise,’ I exclaim, forgetting myself for a moment, and I feel Teo’s warm breath tickle my ear.
‘So I’m not all bad then?’
In response, I bite into a macaron and walk away.
‘The fact that you’re being nice does nothing to improve your predicament. Which is woeful, just so you know.’
‘Doesn’t even sugar sweeten you at all?’ he grumbles, also taking a bite of a macaron. His favourite? Who would have thought? We have one thing in common. In addition to hating marriages. Which is two things in common. Maybe I should start worrying!
To be honest, it actually does worry me a bit, but I don’t have time to think about it. Not now that I have complicated concepts I need to get into the head of this walking amoeba.
‘Sit down. You’ve got three questions.’
*
An hour later I feel like my brain has been put in a blender. I spent more time avoiding his stupid jokes that clarifying what he actually didn’t understand. What hope does he have of passing my exam? Of passing any exam, to be frank. He is so focused on himself that he can’t sees anything else.
‘Time’s up,’ I announce, taking off my glasses again. A lone macaron looks up at me, begging me to eat it, but I have already overindulged. Oh well, who cares, a few hundred calories more or less aren’t going to make any difference!
I reach out my hand at the same time so does Teo.
‘If you don’t want to die you should leave that where it is,’ I threaten him.
‘Even if you do have deadly charms – and by deadly I mean like Medusa’s ability to turn men to stone – it doesn’t give you the right to be rude. The last morsel goes to the guest. Etiquette demands it.’
‘I don’t remember any mention of that. And I’ve read Monsignor Della Casa, who is the original authority on manners.’
Teo raises his eyes to the sky. ‘Do you not remember boasting about this earlier? You know, there’s really not much difference between me and you. I pride myself on my member, and you on your brain. Apparently it’s all a matter of size.’
‘Tiny, in your case.’
Teo’s face deconstructs like a cubist painting. ‘Do you remember the rule that forbids me to respond to such a provocation by lowering my trousers?’
‘I was talking about the size of your brain, you idiot! Keep your trousers on and give me that macaron! Your teacher has spoken,’ I order, narrowing my eyes to two slits. I should put my glasses back on, but I can’t afford distractions in this epic battle.
Teo gets up from his chair and leans perilously close to me. I know I should move away a little, for decency’s sake, but it is a matter of principle: I don’t want to back down.
‘When you say it with that sexy look…’ he murmurs, inches from my lips. Closed lips, for the record. The kiss of a few months ago was a one-off, never to be repeated. Never, even if the universal flood were to come.
I look at his eyes, then his lips, then his eyes, then his lips and… I lose my grip on the macaron. Teo raises it in the air with a little shout of jubilation.
‘Leave my macaron alone!’
‘Come and get it, if you dare,’ he replies sticking half in his mouth and letting the other half stick out.
Bastard!
I cross my arms over my chest and shake my head, challenging him with my eyes. ‘You think I want to get any closer than necessary to your disgusting mouth?
Obviously he can’t answer me, but I see some blurred movement in front of my useless eyes. I resign myself to putting my glasses back on.
Teo is beckoning with his finger for me to come closer. He looks like a lapdancer trying to entice strip club customers. All he needs is a leopard print thong stuffed with money. Oh God, why would I think that? The image of Teo, scantily clad and covered in oil flashes through my mind and I feel a sense of horror. Or… I don’t know, but my hands are trembling. If it’s war he wants, he’s got it!
I pull myself up firmly and approach, grabbing the stool I use to reach the books on the top shelves of my bookcase. To do what I need to do I have to gain about ten centimetres.
&n
bsp; ‘I won’t give up my treat. We’ll just have to go halves,’ I inform him, climbing onto my stool and delivering a resolute bite to the free portion of the macaron. I execute the move with surgical precision, careful not to touch him, but the bastard leans in, brushing my lips. A millisecond later, I feel his teeth gently bite my lower lip, causing a shiver that travels from my head to the fingertips of my hands. I’m rooted to the spot in shock. And in the same moment the door opens. Of course …
‘Dr. Doria!’ he exclaims, in precisely tone of voice that a less distinguished person might say ‘fucking hell!’
In the doorway stands Professor Costa observing us both with a frown.
‘Hiya!’ says Teo. And then it happens. I don’t care. The serenity that I have tried to maintain abandons me, and there’s nothing I can do to prevent it.
‘Get out of here!’ I order him, distraught. I never want to see him again. All he does is screw up my life.
Teo smiles, satisfied. He doesn’t say a word, just collects his things and heads for the door.
Before leaving, however, he concludes his afternoon’s work with a pat on the professor’s shoulder.
‘Be careful, she’s hot stuff. Bites. But maybe you like that,’ he says, before walking away and leaving me to deal with this colossal shit show by myself.
The professor clears his throat. ‘Dr. Doria… Sara…’
‘Professor, I swear, it’s not what it looks like…’ I interrupt him, clambering down from the stool.
The professor raises an eyebrow. ‘The signs seem unmistakable, If you’ll forgive me.’
‘No, no. Really. No. He’s just an idiot who decided to go back to school. And he has no hope, absolutely none.’
‘So he is also a student? Doctor, this is certainly not a happy situation.’
‘Student? But you saw him, professor. He’s not a kid. He’s a daddy’s boy who has decided to get a degree after years of idleness. He has straw instead of a brain!’
‘You seem to know a lot about him…,’ he muses, and I decide to shut up. Everything I say is just making the situation worse.
‘Listen, doctor. I’ll turn a blind eye to this… er… problematic situation. The gentleman is more than an adult, but he is still enrolled with us. I’ll pretend to have not seen. As long as it doesn’t happen again,’ he announces solemnly.
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