Statue limitations
Lunch was a succession of many small
courses. A chef would have exclaimed over the elegant simplicity and
the flavoursome local ingredients, I was too busy cramming it into my
mouth. I was drinking water, a taste of the wine during the tour had
been a delight, but I knew wine at lunchtime would only make me want
to sleep all afternoon, besides, someone had to drive.
Egg had brought up the matter of his
mother’s visit during a miniature but delightfully dressed green
salad, but Giorgio had denied seeing her at all this year. Giorgio
then regaled us with the story of how he and Egg’s mother had
retrieved a statue from Talamone harbour without local officials,
fishermen or the mob having a clue what they were doing. It was a
ridiculous and convoluted tale of cleverness and daring with many
grand hand gestures and interludes for refills of wineglasses.
“But when we found out the elephant
was afraid of snow we knew we would never get the statue over the
Alps, so we sat down and drank a bottle of wine each,” Giorgio
explained over a tiny but perfectly delicious tiramisu. “That was
a mistake, the elephant was a mean drunk. So we left the statue
there and gave up the whole caper, which is how she got to be where
she is today.”
He gestured out of the window. I
turned my head to see the statue stood at the end of the driveway,
smiling at me. The smile was earnest, maybe a little sad and not the
same expression as I recalled her having when we arrived. As I
stared she gestured her fingers in a ‘come here’ sort of motion,
I put my spoon down slow and deliberately.
“I just have to powder my nose,” I
said. “Excuse me.”
I let myself out of the dining room and
along the corridor, but instead of going into the bathroom I tip-toed
through the entrance hall out slipped out of the front door.
Standing on the step and feeling a little foolish, I stared at the
statue daring it to move again. Just as I had convinced myself that
it had been my imagination she beckoned me over with her fingers.
Gingerly, I shuffled closer to statue.
I swallowed, cleared my throat and was just about to ask her what she
wanted when I heard the front door close behind me. Shocked, I
whirled around, Isabella was standing on the step, observing me.
“She wants to warn you,” Isabella
said. “ Giorgio has lied to you.”
“He has?” My heart hammered as
though I had been caught pocketing the silverware.
“You boyfriend’s mother, she was
here,” she explained. “I think she came not to see Giorgio but
to talk to Rosamundi. That’s what I call her.” She gestured at
the statue.
“What did they talk about?” I
asked.
“Oh, Rosamundi never says anything,
but Diana was talking about a man she no longer loved, she then asked
Giorgio where her daughter was.” Diana, it was the first time I
had ever heard her called anything but Mother.
“Her daughter, Aphelia?” My eyes
flicked towards the dining room window, but the men were still
talking and drinking, unaware of our conversation.
“No, she called her Machwa,” she
replied. “He said she was in Amani Na Miti, but I don’t know
where that is. There is one more thing, the wine they are drinking,
it is special. Soon Giorgio will make your boyfriend an offer and he
will be unable to refuse. You must take him away from here quickly.”
“Is that how you...? “ I could not
resist asking.
“Oh, no. It is me that keeps him
here,” she said. “I do my best to keep his business from
hurting people, but some days I fear for his soul. Now, quickly
before hands are shook.”
“Thank you, Isabella.” I turned to
the statue. “Thank you, too, Rosamundi.” She did not respond.
As I re-entered the dining room Giorgio
was offering Egg a cigar and Egg was accepting.
“You, know, a man with your talents
could go along way over here,” Giorgio said. “In fact, what
would you say if I offered you a position in my organisation?”
Egg was about to open his mouth so I
got in quickly.
“Sorry, no business decisions while
we’re on holiday, you know the rule,” I pulled an unresisting Egg
to his feet and started to usher him out of the door. “It’s been
lovely, thank you for the lunch, but I just noticed the time and Egg
promised to take me to the opera this evening. If we don’t set off
now I’ll never have time to do my hair properly.”
Despite protestations from our host I
managed to manoeuvre Egg out of the font door and into the car. As
we pulled away Isabella waved and I waved back. Giorgio has a
suspicious look on his face and I hoped that Isabella had not done
anything to put herself in danger, but she seemed unconcerned.
Rosamundi appeared to be nonplussed by the entire affair.
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