The Sense of an Elephant Read Free Page B

the pavement.
    â€˜Oh, good evening, Pietro.’ Poppi the lawyer was leaning against the vehicle door. A thin man stood beside him. ‘May I introduce you to Dr Riccardo Lisi? Radiographer and a good friend of the Martinis.’
    The two men moved away from the SUV and Pietro noticed that the door had a scratch and two large dents.
    â€˜We’ve already met.’ The radiographer wore an open raincoat. Extended his hand toward the concierge. ‘We ran into each other on the day you first arrived. Three bags and that Bianchi, wasn’t it?’ Pointed at it and brushed the hair away from his face. His eyes were grey.
    â€˜That’s right, Dr Lisi.’
    â€˜Riccardo.
Dr Lisi
makes me feel old. Do you have a lock for it?’
    â€˜It’s broken.’
    â€˜They pinch Bianchis in Milan. May I?’ He grabbed the bicycle, climbed on and leaned over the handlebars as if he were hurtling down a hill. ‘They don’t make ’em like this any more. I’ve got one myself, but it’s made of tissue paper.’
    â€˜Do you ride it?’
    â€˜I used to, with that wimp Martini. Then he defected and I get bored riding on my own.’
    â€˜You two could go riding together.’ The lawyer opened his arms wide.
    â€˜Resolved.’ Riccardo gave the bicycle back to Pietro. ‘You’ve got to be patient, though. I don’t have the legs I once did.’ He started up the stairs.
    He had left behind the scent of aftershave, sickly sweet, which mixed with the smog.
    â€˜I’ve seen him around a lot lately,’ said Pietro.
    â€˜You see him around a lot lately, right.’ Poppi raised his eyebrows. ‘Let’s say that he’s one of the family. He was at university with Dr Martini and now they work in the same hospital. The little girl calls him “Uncle”.’ He looked Pietro up and down. ‘I admit the white shirt does wonders for you,Pietro.’ He adjusted the concierge’s tie and opened the door to the building. ‘Who’s the lucky woman tonight?’
    Pietro started off.
    â€˜Don’t be coy. What’s her name?’
    â€˜Anita.’
    â€˜I was thinking Mary Magdalene. Good for you, kibitzer. God will be jealous tonight.’
    The concierge stood stiffly on the threshold of the flat. Anita said, ‘You have the same face as when you first arrived in Milan.’ She pulled him inside. ‘C’mon, tell me. Are you worried about something?’
    Pietro leaned against the new refrigerator. Its door was already covered with recipes. She caressed the two creases around his mouth. ‘If these wrinkles …’ Moved on to the furrows on his forehead. ‘And these …’ Finished with the groove in his chin. ‘And this as well … have shown up, something has happened.’ Helped him out of his jacket, then checked on a pot heating on the stove. ‘Knowing you this long has got to mean something.’
    Pietro turned to the window. It looked over a communal balcony into the tenement’s courtyard. A string of petunias hung down from the balustrade. He managed to make out the Bianchi. ‘Sorry I’m late.’ He sat down, and only now did he notice that Anita was different.
    â€˜You’re worried,’ she said.
    Her lips were shiny and she wore pearls at her earlobes. Her hair was freshly dyed a shade approaching auburn. Her dress hugged wide hips partially concealed by a hanging scarf.
    â€˜You’re beautiful,’ Pietro replied. And he gazed at the old photograph on the wall of her on the Rimini breakwater. She held her hat to keep it from blowing away and she was happy.
    She lowered her eyes. ‘I went by your building this morning.’ Used a wooden spoon to scoop up a bit of
ragù
from the pot. The sauce was simmering over a low flame. She cooled it down with a long breath before placing it in her mouth. ‘The condominium is very