Free The Sense of an Elephant by Marco Missiroli Page B

the surface of the wall. Leaned his cheek against the wall and the arc coincided perfectly with the shape of his ear. ‘Do you know what the extenuating circumstances for busybodies like us are?’ He poured the drinks. ‘Loneliness. And forgetfulness. I listen out of emptiness, Pietro. I forget what I’ve heard out of respect. This is what separates me from the gossips.’
    Through the wall he heard Luca laugh, saying,
Come here, my love
.
    I’m exhausted from work, unlike you who goes around buying yourself pastel red shirts
. They laughed.
    The voice of the doctor continued, saying,
This is for you
.
    What is it, Luca?
    Open it
.
    â€˜I love it when he acts like that. Somewhere between romantic and virile, a Robespierre of the emotions.’ The lawyer handed him a glass.
    Pietro drank.
    Poppi drank as well, swept away three cat hairs from the table. ‘Pardon the mess. Daniele used to take care of the house.’ Swept away another two hairs. ‘He was the one who cleaned.’
    â€˜For how long?’
    â€˜For twenty years. Then he died of a heart attack.’ From the shelf he drew down matches and the stump of a scented candle, which he lit. ‘And just think: I was never unfaithful to him.’
    â€˜You held out for twenty years?’
    â€˜Thanks to them, yes.’ He lightly tapped the wall, leaned an elbow on the table between their chairs and his chin on his hand. Let his head incline, his ear touch the wall.
    But these gloves are gorgeous, where did you get them?
    The lawyer shifted the candle to the middle of the table. It gave off a nauseating odour. ‘I’ve saved myself for them.’
    Pietro poured himself another drink. ‘I understand.’
    â€˜I know.’
    â€˜You know?’
    â€˜I’ve known since I first interviewed you for the job.’
    â€˜What do you know?’
    Poppi stretched out his arm to the wall and lifted off one of the tribal masks. ‘I knew that being dropped by God wasn’t something a dating service could fix. And that concierge work is a good antidote for emptiness.’
    â€˜It was I who dropped God.’
    â€˜Then Our Lord must really have done you wrong. Did he cheat on you?’
    The concierge smiled. ‘For a lifetime.’
    The lawyer put on the tribal mask, holding it pressed against his chin. ‘With this on I’m less ashamed to mind their business.’ The mask’s large mouth smiled. The holes of the eyes shone. ‘At first, I admit, I did it for the doctor. Then I also grew fond of
Madame
and the dear child. And of the despairs of marriage,
bien sûr
.’ His voice was a murmur.
    â€˜The despairs of marriage.’
    â€˜Forgetfulness separates me from the gossips, Pietro.’
    They heard a dull thud.
Take it easy, Luca, or you’ll wake Sara
.
    How did work go today, Viola?
They heard clucks and smacks – kisses.
It went well, half Milan was there
. They heard another kiss.
Was Riccardo there as well?
What kind of question is that, was Riccardo there or not?
He repeated the question. She laughed and said,
What’s got into you this evening, come here and I’ll take care of you
.
    â€˜It’s my favourite scene.’ Poppi sighed behind the mask. ‘Luca seems so shy but he knows what he’s doing in bed.’ Poppi was the mask. With his cavernous ears he listened to the doctor saying,
You and Sara are everything I have
. He listened to Viola:
Come here, Luca. Come
.
    In the middle of the table the candle burned with a tall flame. Pietro lifted it up, held it over his other hand, tipped it and the wax ran onto his wrist. He waited for it to harden then rose and walked to the door. Before leaving he turned, one last time. The mask was bent over the table.

16
    By the time Pietro reached his flat the lawyer’s wax had dried completely, weighing on his wrist. He collapsed onto the bed.
You and the little girl are all I have
. He