Lavinia, we are no longer able to keep so low: I would say that we are even around 6.5% all inclusive.»
«6.5%? But it’s a lot!»
«We can’t do better now. However, the threshold rate is around 7.5% now and we are well below.»
«Does one percent mean well below your parameters, Ettore?»
«Yes, Lavinia: for my parameters, one percent is a lot: that’s 1,000 euros per 100,000 euros of capital per year.»
«Here, exactly. Anyway, assuming it might be okay, what documents should the couple need get off their friends?»
«They can always sign an agreement in which friends declare to remain friends for at least another twenty or thirty years: a private agreement like this may also be enough. Otherwise, there is always the possibility that they will give them a direct guarantee. This would bring the rate down significantly.»
«Sure, but from experience I know that friends in the end, when it comes to money, they don’t turn out to be such good friends.»
«Yes, Lavinia, you know what they say here in Milan: friends, bloody friends...» says Ettore, interrupting himself and grinning.
«Even here, ninety kilometres away, they say the same» I reply, laughing.
«Then I will send you the details of the property and of the individuals» I continue, «if you draw up a draft, I’ll submit everything to the two people.»
«All right, e-mail me everything. And if the deal goes through, you too can pop over the notary when the deed will be signed, so we can finally meet: it’s been a long time since I’d love to meet your voice in person.»
«Of course: to meet my voice in person, nice expression, I like it! If they get the loan, I’ll see you at the notary, sure: in fact, we have been talking on the phone for about ten years and we’ve never seen each other.»
«You promised, Lavinia Sbandofin: deed at the notary, I’m counting on it.»
«All right Ettore FinExtreme, now I’ll forward everything to you. Bye, have a good day.»
«You too. Bye.»
I hang up the phone, I click on the mail software and, once the cadastral registration is attached, I add a few words referring to the phone call just made. Finally, I choose Ettore’s address from the contact list and send the e-mail.
I click on the yellow icon and move on to the next folder: this is the guy with shaved hair and a bleached mohawk who, at the beginning of yesterday’s brief meeting, also demanded a coffee, convinced that he was able to express the ideas better with a stimulant of some kind in his blood.
Actually his situation was not too complicated to explain: twenty-two, never worked and looking for five thousand euros to go to Thailand for a month with an elusive girl who, at first, seemed to me to live with him in Italy and, a few minutes later, she turned out to be waiting for him for several months in the country of destination. When I suggested him to look for a guarantor who could give him access to some credit, he replied almost whimpering that friends and relatives had completely declined any of his requests. Considering his appearance and his way of speaking, the news of the repeated denials did not surprise me, confirming only my initial decision, taken even before the word coffee: I press the e-mail icon and enter the address in the recipient field that I had saved in the clipboard.
We are sorry, but we have not been able to find any suitable solution to your funding request. Looking forward to meeting you on other future occasions, I wish you a good day.
Lavinia - Sbandofin.
Third folder: the man in his fifties looking for an anonymous lease for the purchase of a car.
⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎
I hear the front door make a faint noise and I look to the far right: I see Maddalena entering, opening a gap of about fifty centimetres, quite enough to let her frail body slide between the jamb and the large shiny steel plate. She closes the door behind her and nods to Serena. She walks along the corridor, disappearing behind the plants, and showing again, after about twenty seconds, under the opening of the glass wall, reaching the desk on my right.
«Hi Maddalena, are you all right?» I ask almost whispering.
«Hi Lavinia, not too bad: I have a terrible headache, I couldn’t even get out of bed this morning.»
«Headaches are horrible» I reply quietly. «But did you take anything for it, like some ibuprofen or paracetamol?»
«No, medicines are poison. I didn’t take anything, God forbid: a few hours and it will go» she replies sourly.
«Yes, time heals everything» I reply smiling.
«There’s nothing to laugh about, anyway.»
«Sorry, Maddalena, I was just saying.»
I reopen Chrome, I start looking for some strange leasing company. I nonchalantly catch a glimpse of Maddalena out of the corner of my eye arranging her bag in the third drawer of the shelf. Before closing the drawer, she takes out his smartphone and places it scrupulously on a stand placed on her desk, just below the monitor: it is a plastic gizmo which I have always disregarded the usefulness, thinking that my phone is quite happy to sit on the flat surface of my desk. She then takes out the usual three small bottles and lines them up to the right of the useless stand, checking that the labels are facing the working position. She closes the drawer and sits down on the chair.
I asked her one day what benefits those three little bottles had and Maddalena told me about some plant extracts that have a positive influence on emotional imbalances, worries and health in general: one for sleep disorders, one for social anxiety and the other to overcome grief, if I am not wrong. After the explanation, I lost some interest in the exact use of the products and now I am amused at this daily ritual, repeated in the same way every morning when she arrives at her office. However, I noticed the colour of the bottles are continuously changed, which led me to think that even the distress these magical extracts are used for, can change quite frequently.
I scroll through the search results with little enthusiasm while, always out of the corner of my eye, I see her busy carrying out the second preparatory action leading up to the beginning of the working day: the extension and compression of the piston of the chair, until reaching the optimal distance between the seat and the floor. I straighten my back a little, I think I have never changed the height of my chair: a long time ago I had placed it in a position that suited to my height, and that was it.
«Lavinia, can’t you see that you too get a back pain sitting on these armchairs? You want to straighten up now: your bones have taken on a wrong posture and it will be difficult to get them straight back» Maddalena suddenly stammers.
I turn to her and look at her beige turtleneck sweater, paired with oversized hazel pants and a pair of hard to define brown shoes.
«Actually, Maddalena, I have no back pain: I have just straightened up a little because I was hunching my back under the weight of the useless research I am doing» I reply to her, looking at her with a smile.
«So, you were just teasing me because I can’t get the chair in the right position?»
«No,
