The Other Language(38)
Leo, the house is finished (I officially moved in three weeks ago!) as you can see from the attached photos. It’s actually a lot larger and more spacious than it looks in the pictures. The ceilings are spectacularly high, I just can’t get them all in the shot because I don’t have the right lens. I walk to the beach every day (twenty minutes, walking briskly), I swim, I read a lot, I pick my rucola and fresh zucchini from the garden (did you know they grow overnight? They turn into monsters if you forget to pick them) and soon the figs will be ready on the tree. My neighbors are all supernice old ladies (not a man in sight, they must have all died or run off) and I’ve done all I could in my power to make them feel comfortable having me here. The other night I had a party for all of them. I baked spelt banana bread (which they had never had), made buckwheat cherry muffins (which they had never heard of) and made tea (which they never drink, this is espresso nation). However I made them try everything and after a few awkward moments and many laughs I have a feeling we bonded. Mina is my favorite one; she’s an amazing seamstress, she’s made me two beautiful shirts and a dress that cost me next to nothing. It’s incredible: you just bring her a Prada shirt and she makes its identical twin for 25 euros! This is part of what is so lovely about living here: everything is simple, easy and cheap. When are you going to come? You did promise, remember? Can’t wait to spend a bit of time with you!
It had taken almost an hour to compose an e-mail to her brother. It was important that she sounded funny and light, and that she gave the most alluring description of her new domain. He e-mailed her back ten days later. Late and economical, as always.
Hi, thanks for the pix, very martha stewart. I’m coming to visit in august for a few days, I’ll be with a client I’m representing, ben jackson (have u seen “the man at the door”?), the guardian published a big spread last week on yr area, it looked really cool, then we go visit friends in pantelleria, talk to u soon. Does skype work from there?
Six years earlier Leo had moved to London, where he’d begun his career as an assistant to a film agent. Recently he had followed his boss to Los Angeles and become a partner. All of a sudden younger stars were flocking to him. He was perfect for the job; taking care of others had been his number-one specialty since he was a child. He seemed to possess a bottomless reserve of charm that he was able to shower on anyone he encountered. He was a natural. People came away from their first encounter with him certain to have made an indelible impression and a dent in his heart, a certainty that Leo was careful to keep feeding. His charm was his secret weapon, ensuring he’d be loved back, even if falsely or temporarily.
Thus it was odd how one of the very few people left out of this tight circle of love was his sister. He seemed to have lost interest in Lara, as if time spent in her company was not as rewarding as with everyone else. Yes, his life had taken a sharp turn and was now very different from hers—he attended exclusive parties, flew business class to film festivals, had his expensive meals and hotels paid for with a corporate card and was followed by an endless string of girlfriends without names. He was capable of sending a gift via iTunes to a particularly nice salesgirl with whom he’d had a casual conversation about a band while trying on clothes, or sending flowers with a thank-you note to an older lady he’d met on a plane (“For the wonderful conversation that made our flight last only minutes!”). But he hardly ever remembered to call his sister. Whenever Lara rang him he always happened to be in a meeting; if they succeeded in having a conversation he endured prolonged pauses during which she could hear him tapping on computer keys, and her own metallic voice reverberating in the room on speaker phone. Lara had begun to fear that he might be thinking of her as a loser. The Martha Stewart remark only confirmed this worry.
You can’t come with Ben Jackson, this house isn’t grand enough for him!! Let me book him a place where he’ll be much more comfortable. There is a fabulous palazzo converted into B&B only six km from me. Jodie Foster stayed there. Please don’t let him come and stay! No Skype from here, sorry. Signal is too weak.
Leo’s response came, surprisingly, just two hours later.
Ben is cool. The house looks fine. Stop fretting.
The shirts and dresses always came neatly folded inside a plastic envelope, crisp and skillfully pressed, then wrapped in a sheet of newspaper sealed with tape. The package felt solid and as full of promise as a gift box from an exclusive boutique. Mina’s work had a Victorian quality. It was flawless in every detail; the collar, pleats and buttonholes were stitched as if by an invisible hand and the buttons were either mother of pearl or covered in the same material as the dress. Lara’s full name was always embroidered inside the collar in lovely childish lettering. Each time Lara had to insist that Mina quote her a price, but she would turn her head, reluctantly, the other way.
“I don’t know. You give me what you think is right.”
“Please, Mina. Otherwise I cannot ask you to make me anything else. Please.”
This would go on for a while, till Mina would finally relent.
“Ten, fifteen, you decide. Whatever you think is right.”
Lara would put a twenty on the table and Mina would snatch it without a sound the minute Lara took her eyes away. Clearly it was part of village etiquette, this pretense that money wasn’t the issue. Outside of what she paid for the house itself, this felt like the best-spent money of her entire life. Lara, in her new clothes, looked in the mirror and saw herself slender and pretty again.