Page 28

they will all be there. How about going somewhere else?"

"That's fine by me."

"See you tomorrow," said Mister Papa to Cipriana who had approached to greet me. 

Instinctively outside Harry's, perhaps because I had come from Calle Valeressa, I turned the other way. Passing in front of the landing stage, I smiled remembering how during the trip to Torcello with the Hemingways and Aspasia "Ole ole," all the way on the motorboat Afdera had kept his fingers crossed as a sign of conjuration because - he said - Aspasia was bad luck: in fact, as soon as he married her, he was immediately bitten by her little monkey and died suddenly...

"Where are we going?" I asked as we skirted the royal gardens. 

"Wherever you want. It's enough for me not to have to watch the phone. I damn miss you, Daughter."

"It's a beautiful day. They've put a few tables under the Procuratie Nuove. How about sitting down at the Todaro?" 

"That's fine with me."

We sit down. While Mister Papa signals to a distracted waiter, I look at the Lagoon, the island of San Giorgio, the profile of the Zattere interrupted by the dome of the Redentore church. 

"Shall we get a Bloody Mary?" 

"What is that?" 

"Ouch, Daughter! Your culture has gaps. It's a tomato-based drink and good."

"Okay then for the Bloody Mary." 

While we waited I observed two gondoliers who are arguing rather lively. Then one of them stretched his arms towards the other and now choked him, I think. But the one instead rests only his hands on the shoulders of the other, in such a violent way as to make him bend his knees and the one wobbling...