"Come in" Davis said, sitting down on the chair and opened the book on the armrest.
Edward came in condescendingly.
"They brought this" he said, handing him a tiny, sepia-colored envelope. Davis snorted. He opened the note, read it distractedly and threw it on the table.
Pretending nothing, Edward turned imperceptibly to read what was written above. He could only see the name that was four lines long of fine writing: Gianna Lorenzi." I don’t think I can handle her," Davis said, then ordered, "Do we have any scotch in the house?"
Edward felt offended and without uttering a word, he went to the bar, took out a historic bottle and poured two fingers of amber liquid into a glass. Davis smiled. "I forgot you're here," he said, not without a touch of irony. Edward took the punch and said nothing but served Davis the glass he had placed on a tray. He took it with a nod, as if to thank him. The butler waited near the door. Davis said nothing: he seemed immersed in his thoughts.
Edward cleared his throat. Davis noticed: "Is there anything else?"
"They are waiting for an answer" he said politely.
"Who?" asked Davis.
‘’ There's a boy... I think he works in Madame Lorenzi's villa’’
Davis nodded in disappointment.
‘’ I just arrived... how does that gossipy know.’’
"Your arrival here never goes unnoticed, sir." Edward said.
Davis sighed: "Nothing has changed then. Always the same environment...’’
"It's hard to change anything here, sir," Edward said with a touch of sadness that did not escape his interlocutor.
"Are you satisfied with your job?" Davis asked suddenly. The butler blushed embarrassed.
"Oh, well... yes... it's a... job... interesting" he said, mumbling, taken aback.
Davis went to the bar, took another glass, poured whiskey and handed it to Edward. The latter, surprised, refused it: "I'm on duty, sir..."
"You're not a policeman. You should rather answer my question..."
Edward started looking around. He didn’t know whether to accept this intimacy or keep the butler's distance. Then he decided that an exception to the rule, forced by a specific request from his employer, could also be done. He took the glass and began to sip the whiskey.
"Honestly" said Davis.
"Sir, the service here at the villa is very generously paid..." he attacked.
"I did not ask you if you want a raise. I asked you if you're satisfied with your job"
"I care about my work" Edward said "But if I have to be honest, sir, regardless of the excellent treatment I enjoy ... no, I don’t think I'm completely satisfied with it" and he swallowed the truth.
Davis thought about it for a while.
"I'm not satisfied either. I'm talking about my job" he said, almost to himself.
"I suppose you feel quite alone, in the position you occupy" Edward ventured, eyeing the whiskey bottle.
"That's it" Davis said. "A wonderful golden cage full of idiots who nod and are ready to bite you at the first chance they get. Believe me Edward, just this it's so scary."
"There are people who would aspire to their fortune with all their strength."
"Idiots. Idiots who have no clue... what do they know!" Davis slammed down his glass on the piano.
There was a moment of silence.
"I'm afraid I can’t keep the boy waiting any longer" Edward whispered.
"You are right. I will go to the boat club, but not invited from that duck of Lorenzi. Tell her I'll be happy to go to her again. She organizes just a party per week."
"Two per week but..." Edward corrected.
"Find an excuse" Davis interrupted him and spread his legs on the footstool. "Tell her I'm tired... it was a long journey...."
"Sir..." Edward hesitated.
"And I want dinner at seven" Davis concluded, waving his hand at him to go.
Edward bowed slightly and left the room.
He laughed as he left. Davis had not read the message carefully. He, Edward, the well-mannered and obedient butler, would tell the boy that his master didn’t feel like going out to the party.
But Edward laughed because Davis, he would meet Madame Lorenzi right where he would go that night. For some time the woman had succeeded in being part of the exclusive circle by virtue of a more than a generous donation, and had got into the habit of going there most evenings "At all costs," she said to everyone, "I have to take advantage of the opportunity, right?"
Edward turned to the closed door, made a grotesque bow tie and when he stood up, he stretched out to Davis - who couldn’t see him behind the door- all his tongue. Then he turned away amused.
Chapter 4
"Seriously" said Dixon, his brow furrowed and he raised his eyebrow in a shape of a circumflex. He sat alone at the bar while a hot beverage was smoking before his mustache. His cheeks were ruddy and his look was blank like someone who has already swallowed a lot of orange grog. In the neutral state in which he found himself at that moment, Dixon had his mind free of the threatening thoughts that besieged him during breaks in lucidity - way more - of what he allowed himself. He kept rubbing his chin and looked around as the nautical club's environment slowly came to life.
Webb didn't kept him company. He went from one table to another with the role of captain of a ship that honors the passengers of his greeting or his presence at their table, the result of forty years of experience played in that very role on the major transatlantic liners of the best shipping companies of the globe.
Dixon managed to focus on the slim figure, covered with a 'navy blue' cardigan with golden buttons of his friend.
He drained the grog in one gulp and gave a crack with his tongue. That evening Webb was busy greeting people - members - who hadn't seen each other for months. The atmosphere was electric, a subtle excitement could be felt in the background. Even at the gaming tables there were those who looked around nervously trying to concentrate on the game, but were distracted by the unusual chatter that was heard in the room.
"When the shark arrives, all the pilot fish suddenly reappear" Dixon muttered, trying to keep his spine erect and on those damned seats more and more frequently. He sighed and nodded to the bar boy who started boiling water in the kettle. Dixon's habits were so well known to everyone that anyone who served at the bar knew precisely what his gestures, his grimaces, his jokes meant, even his furtive winks. He slid down heavily from his seat, clutching a new hot prey and exhaling the usual gin-soaked aroma and headed for a table that had two empty seats. A rather elderly lady with masculine features gave him a stiff
