Headwinds. Sybil Kempel
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 nod of greeting with an insincere smile that Dixon returned her cordially. The other place was occupied by a dapper mannequin who must have been a hundred years old and looked like one hundred and fifty: he kept shuffling a deck of cards with shaking hands.
"Whist?" he asked.
"Something lighter. I don't want to concentrate too much tonight" Dixon answered and smiled leaning towards him as if to give him a confidence.
"And why of grace?" the other asked, shocked. Dixon chuckled and waved him over.
"We'll see some good ones" he said in a low voice.
"I don't understand" the other said.
"Colonel, you will see, you will see." said Dixon slyly.
"Mr. Dixon always has information that transcends the average knowledge of most of the inhabitants of this country" Colonel Sanders said, addressing the lady.
"Otherwise it wouldn't be Dixon" she said. Then she turned to him: "You are lucky, Alexander. This evening I don't want to play much either''
The colonel snorted: "Then I'll have to find other comrades if I want to do something serious" and, having said that, he got up from the table and staggered over to a group of men who laughed aloud on a sofa nearby.
Suddenly Dixon nodded toward the door to his playmate who turned away. His expression turned into an ironic grin: "Italy honors us with its presence this evening" he said contemptuously.
"That country has great nautical traditions..." muttered Dixon, feigning remorse.
"Country of saints and sailors..." the other replied, descending a king. Dixon frowned and answered with a jack. The triumphant woman picked up the spot and waited for Dixon to make the next move.
The player had placed himself in a strategic position, his face turned towards the door and observed the abundant guest who had just entered, while ceremoniously carrying out the ritual of greetings.
"I wonder if she's ever been on a boat..." the lady asked sharply as she waited for her opponent's move.
"On one of those tubs of theirs... as they call them... the pedaloes..." Dixon said pronouncing the word in Italian and chuckled as he dropped an ace.
"Oh!" Said the surprised woman. "You won this time too" he said, laying down the papers with dignity. The fat adversary spread his hands with condescending grace, then nodded to the waiter uttering a slight whistle that had the effect of attracting the attention of the lady who had just entered.
"Alexaaander" she said in English with an unmistakable Italian accent.
Dixon stood up as she came near him, holding out his hand to her. He took her and showed off an impeccable kiss that made her radiant.
"Can I sit at your table?" he asked while the other looked at her grimly.
"Of course, Madame Lorenzi" Dixon replied, treading his voice on the 'madame' and winking at his playmate who merely smiled sourly and nodded.
"We need one more player" he said, after shuffling the deck.
"I think he's coming in now" Dixon said with a nod to Davis, who was just crossing the threshold at that moment. All eyes instantly turned toward him.
Signora Lorenzi jumped up like a spring and approached Davis, blessed. He bowed stiffly: "Madame Lorenzi. I find you in an excellent shape" he said unconvincingly. Happy for the attention he had aroused about her, this sudden, even