I observe my would-be Pygmalion and all I can think is how embarrassing his proposal is. It’s one thing to be aware of your own disastrous social life, but I don’t want him to remind me of it.
‘It’s not a good idea,’ I say, convinced. Because it’s definitely not a good idea and I have no desire to have him constantly in my office. Why can’t he get a private tutor? With all the money he has…
‘If you don’t say yes, I’ll start singing “Oh, What a Beautiful Morning” in the middle of the corridor until you accept.’
I shake my head, laughing. ‘You’re ridiculous.’
I begin to walk away, but evidently Teo is a man of his word, because I’ve hardly gone two paces before I hear singing,
‘Oh, what a beautiful morrrrrninnnng, Oh what a beautiful dayyyyy…’
Heads emerge from office doors. Security appear in the corridor.
‘Any problems, doctor?’ they ask me. I watch, horrified, as Teo makes fools of both of us, as if the whole thing were perfectly normal.
‘Oh, what a beautiful doctorrrrrrr. Why won’t she come out and playyyyyyyy?’
I give up. The man’s a lunatic.
‘Wednesday at twelve. You have at most half an hour for your questions,’ I say, dragging the words as if I were pronouncing my own doom. And maybe I am, because I’m sure that this uneasy truce won’t lead to anything good.
11
Teo
I have a plan. A perfect plan. The best plan in the world.
And I will not fail.
No one has ever ridiculed me like she did. No one has ever tolerated me with such condescension. No-one. I have only ever been idolised and admired and I don’t see why she should be any different from all the others.
I want her at my feet. I want her to beg me. And not because I like her, no. Because I really don’t like her.
How could I, with her thick glasses, her generous curves and her terrible taste in clothes. She is absolutely not my type, but I can’t stand being rejected. Especially not by someone like her.
She has insulted me, humiliated me, beaten me, even. And she thinks she can get away, scot-free? She doesn’t know who she’s dealing with.
What was I saying? Ah, yes. The plan.
I don’t give a shit about her, I just want to pass that exam and I will use all of my energy to get what I want. Not by studying, but by making her give in. With the excuse of meeting for advice, I’ll make her fall in love with me.
She will be cooked like a spit-roast chicken ready for skewering, although obviously I won’t be sticking it to her. I wouldn’t want to get too close.
I will deceive her, I will take from her what I want. And then I will forget her. That will be her punishment.
I am lost in these agitated thoughts as I arrive at the production studios. These days I am required to attend board meetings. In short, my father is trying to kill me.
Before I’m halfway across the carpark, I realise that I’m heading straight towards my nightmare, my personal stalker: Gennaro.
I make a desperate dash for the entrance, but Gennaro, despite his fifteen stone bulk, is somehow quicker than me.
‘Afternoon, Chief, looking more handsome than ever! Just like a famous producer!’
I mean, in theory I am a producer. As for famous, I wouldn’t swear to it. My father is famous. I live on reflected glory and that’s the way I like it.
‘Gennaro, what a tremendous pleasure,’ I reply, with a bucketful of sarcasm. I’d almost escaped him!
‘You didn’t forget me, did you?’
Ok. Step back. I could never forget Gennaro. He’s here every day!
One day he’ll try and sell me ‘designer’ socks of dubious provenance, and the next it will be perfumes that smell like bug spray. But every day without fail, he asks me to help with his master plan. A request with no chance on this earth.
‘I can’t get you an audition, Gennaro. I am not a record producer,’ I repeat, for the umpteenth time.
‘Come on, Chief, with all your contacts, you must know someone. See if you can sort it out for me, ask around. I’ve got a family to support, you know. Here, look,’ he commands, pulling his out his wallet and showing me a series of passport photos. ‘Nunziatina, Concettina, Salvatore, Gaetano. And here is the living saint that is my wife Giuseppina. I have to look after them all, Chief. I have two girls to marry off! Two!’
I roll my eyes. ‘This is why I’m an advocate of contraception. I’m sorry, I can’t help you.’
‘You can! Ask your friends, you can do it. I know you are an angel sent to help me!’
‘I’ve been called a thousand things in my life, but never a saint. And I am very much not. Stop asking.’ I try to get away, starting with a firm step towards the building. But my steps are stopped by fifteen stone of man, who appears to have decided to cling to my legs. He must be more desperate than usual.
‘Ah, Chief, give me a chance. A chance for Gennaro, the singer with his heart in his hands. The women will fall at my feet.’
I try to shake him off, but he sticks like a limpet to a rock.
‘I thought you were married?’
‘Marriage is a signature on a sheet. My heart belongs to all beautiful women.’
I struggle to imagine a guy like that making conquests, but for the first time in the day, I find myself laughing. A genuine laugh. A man after my own heart.
‘Gennaro, really. I can’t get you auditions. It’s not my field.
But if you want some advice, you should do something to make yourself more… universal.’
‘Why, isn’t love universal?’ he replies. Which actually makes perfect sense…
‘You should… I don’t know… change style, take elocution lessons, learn to behave in a certain way.’
‘I can’t afford to do all that. And anyway, if I changed myself, I wouldn’t be Gennaro any more. When I hold my heart in my hands, what would I be holding?
Wow. I’m genuinely amazed
‘I didn’t take you for a philosopher, Gennaro. I’m impressed.’
‘Love speaks through many voices, Chief. One day I’ll let you hear my songs. I swear to you that no woman can resist. I’m not good looking, but the way I make them feel, they can’t help themselves.’
I shake my head. ‘I don’t believe it. All women are interested in is the casing. Money, success and looks. If you don’t have those you’ve no hope.’
‘That’s because you haven’t found the right woman. The right woman doesn’t look at your wallet, but at what beats inside your chest.’
With a final jerk, I free myself and reach the safety of the building, where security will keep him away. As far as I’m concerned he talks a lot of nonsense.
After a two-hour meeting that I pretended to understand, I leave the studios, resolving to put my perfect plan in motion. The first step is to understand what she likes. I know that women like flowers. So I have to find out what her favourites are.
Silvio’s house has been off limits for me since the wedding. I can’t stand the idea of seeing my footloose drinking buddy shackled by his new married life. But all’s fair and love and war, and this is definitely war.