The Ball

I have been thinking about it for some time, but I cannot be sure if it was just my will or whether it was influenced by my parents, especially my mother: all the stories about getting older, about the need to settle down, to give your life some sort of stability...

In any case, a hidden force, an invisible hand, the flow of events or whatever else, brought me closer to Amedeo. We met at a friends’ party, and I found him nice, funny and quite attractive. It was 2010 and I had already been working here at Sbandofin for a few years; he was a real estate agent: he was still with the Borgosatollo agency. Later, when we decided to move in together in the house we now live in, he continued to work as an independent agent, getting business straight from building companies and specializing in the sale and rental of large compounds.

The first few years of our life together were not bad, thinking about them now or, perhaps, they surface like this in my memories only because I make an inevitable comparison with the current situation: heavy, stressful life together with an ill-tempered, sad, depressed, detached and certainly not loving person. Sometimes almost violent. Verbally abusive.

Amedeo has always been jealous and controlling, but never like the way he has been lately. If he had any real evidence, I could actually think that he is not going crazy; his scenes would make sense if I behaved like so many acquaintances of mine who regard themselves as being happily married, despite the fact that they constantly go out with other men. But since we’ve been together I’ve only ever been with him. And not so much because I wanted to but as a matter of principle: if I wanted a different situation, I would break up with him. Four months ago, we have in fact legally registered at the Town Hall as a couple living together: we are a real couple, but we could just say it and we would no longer be.

Yes. So, at the moment, I’m stoned: stoned in a relationship.

But it is a momentary situation, that is, not a temporary one, but not even an indissoluble one. This is a recent event and I can’t remember welcoming so much Amedeo’s idea of registering our relationship, but, I agreed to avoid a scene on his part. After all, we had already lived together for quite some time, as an actual fact, nothing would have changed.

It is now 7:53 am and I have to start working. I have to settle the issue regarding consumer credit that I was looking into yesterday, that is sending customers’ documents relating to loans already approved and granted to the various institutions.

We work as mediators: we look into people’s requests, evaluate all the various offers and suggest the best solution to the customer. The lowest rate loan or the financing suitable for specific needs and, for these low amounts and concerning consumer credit, the choice almost always ends up on the blue puppet: everyone likes it and it is the most advantageous.

I head to the bathroom, rinse the plastic cup of coffee and throw it into the waste bin. I go back to the cupboard at the back of the room, near my desk, in the last row, I take the stack of folders from the consumer credit binder and go back to my desk. One, two, three... there are eleven: ten from the puppet and one from Telefin. I take all the documents and move to the middle of the room, towards the multifunction printer set against the glass that separates the room from the corridor. I place the folders on the nearby table. The device is still in standby, I hit the green button to turn it back on. After a few seconds, I read the familiar ready-to scan-text on the small liquid crystal display. I open the first folder, starting to take the staples off and scan the documents.

As I perform these operations, I think about how many things I have discovered in the last few days. An hour was enough to discover a world that stays the same and it is all different at the same time: changes in the traffic flow, different light, different smells and equipment in standby. And it is darker, much darker. The people I meet are also different. Apart from Mauro, who reads the Giornale di Brescia already at around 7:30.

I take out all the contracts from the folders, realizing that in this way the whole process can be faster, I remove the staples from all the signed papers and put in the copies of the documents after each contract. I go through all the documents, making sure that each of them follows the pertaining contract: several photographs run before my eyes and I smile instantly when I get to the last one which portrays the plump version of Tom Sellek that I saw yesterday. On the identity card, the similarity is almost more evident. I realize now that himself and his friend were born in Poland, they wanted a quick cash loan to set up an online dating company.

The appointment with them was not fully relaxing. My feeling of discomfort begun with the description of the business, had gradually increased, until it reached its peak talking about the many cute girls that you can meet online and with the following vague comments, always polite though, about my clothing. I don’t know what the point was, as my appearance wasn’t too flashy. At least, not like the cyber-whores that I am sure pack up sites like theirs.

I make a single stack of a hundred pages and put it all on the automatic scanning unit. I look at the sheets that are swallowed one after the other and appear again after a few moments. I realize that I haven’t bumped into the girls from the fifth floor in the lift that, for several years, I used to meet almost every morning.

Times: it is a matter of times. Maybe he has always been here too, but he would go to the common areas of the building at different times from mine.

Himself: the surprising one. But all this, however, cannot interest me.

2.2 LIFE - TWO

I hear the front door open at the back of the room: it is Serena coming in.

I look at the clock on my PC, which indicates 8:31, while she screams: «Hello Lavi!»

«Hi» I reply in a lower tone of voice and waving a hand to greet her.

I glance over my monitor and see Serena hanging her black fur coat in the closet, then she goes over the desk behind the counter in the hall and stores her bag. I look down at the monitor again and start writing the first e-mail with the list of contracts attached in pdf.

The sound of Serena’s heels distracts me. She is walking to my right down the hall, past the glass window, towards the coffee room. Her body is almost completely hidden behind the plants placed close to the transparent partition. I only notice the highlights of her dark blond shatush protruding beyond the green shrubs and the black heels that can be seen among the vases.

Hi Carmela, I am attaching ten contracts signed yesterday. Do not hesitate to contact me if I can be of further assistance or if it is necessary, I write.

«Lavi, is everything okay? What are you doing?»

«Hi Sere, all right. I’m sending the contracts to Carmela. Are you all right?»

«Yes, all is fine.» She walks over to the window with the cup of coffee in her hand: her slender figure stands out against the light, while I notice that the fog is rising.

I stare at her legs: they look really nice in her tight jeans with those high heels. Lean, but toned. Then I look up.

«Has your son still got a fever?»

«No, I just dropped him off to school, this morning he wasn’t even 36.5.»

«But wasn’t he 39.5 yesterday?»

«Yes, but you know what children are like, they recover immediately» she replies and keeps on looking out the window.

«It depends on the children, I would say. And also on your illness.»

«Yes, I would so. Probably the virus that affected my son was a bit weak and he recovered quickly. Luckily, since I didn’t know what to do with him. I am running out of days off because of his flus...». She turns around.

I watch Serena as she arches her back stretching, she presses her shoulders against the window and pushes her chest up. The quadriceps tighten and show the toned muscles underneath her tight jeans; the back of her feet, hidden by the black nylon stockings, lifts up making her heels protrude from high heels.

«Has your coffee not fully gone into your system yet, Sere?»

«I think I’ll need at least another four or five, or maybe I should change drug» she replies while examining me.

«Aren’t you cold dressed so lightly?»

«No, I’m not: here in the office, it is always around twenty-eight degrees, so I decided to put on my three-quarter sleeves, which are not really three-quarters. You see» I explain pulling the left sleeve down, «it’s the pattern that gets it to stay up, actually if you pull it down, it comes to my wrist.»

«Yes, actually it’s always very hot in here. Anyway, that stretchable three-quarters thing there is really nice, it suits you just fine. Did you buy it at one of your auctions?»

«Actually, no, I got this in a small shop in Verona. A few weeks ago, Amedeo and I went on a trip there» I explain. «Anyway, I asked Teresa just yesterday, but it seems that the temperature of the thermostats is already set to a minimum: you can’t lower it down and it just seems a bit of a waste to me.»

«Yes, it doesn’t make much sense to have such a temperature in winter» she replies as she looks at the pile of documents I have on my desk: her gaze seems to float between the sheets and the neckline on my sweater.

«You know Serena, you just made me realize that I think I left my jacket in the car this morning when I arrived. I just realized it: I must have come up the internal stairs of the building dressed like that and it didn’t occur to me at all.»

«The stairs leading down to the garages are always damp and cold: I think you had something else on your mind.»

«It may be the new time.»

«It probably is. Do you know that today you are even more glowing than usual?»

«Why, am I usually glowing? Like a human torch?»

«Of course, not like a torch» she replies, laughing. «Glowing like...» she says, interrupting herself for a few seconds, «I don’t know: radiant.»

«Anyway, I am the same as every morning, apart from being up an hour earlier and the fact that I forgot my jacket in the car.»

Serena gets closer to the stack of papers and looks curiously at the first identity card placed on top of all the other documents. «Who knows: to me you seem particularly radiant. But who is this here? An Italian Tom Selleck?» she then says giggling. «And what kind of name is this?»

«He’s Polish» she replies. «I too have noticed their similarity. He was here yesterday with his partner to ask for a loan.»

«Seriously, I haven’t seen him go by. Or is he different in person?»

«No, he is the same in person. I think they were here when you were on the corporate health and safety course.»

«Sure, I was out most of the morning yesterday. So, what is he looking for here? Magnum P.I double?»

«I don’t get it, Sere: they look like two regular guys, but they told me that they would like to run a dating site, I didn’t understand if physical or virtual.»

«And what kind of dates? To meet people with similar interests, I guess. Like someone who is looking for people to share his interest in water sports, he signs up and finds a new friend to go water skiing with...» replies Serena with a smile that seems a bit mischievous to me.

«Yes, that’s right. I got that too. Also passionate about hunting and fishing» I reply laughing.

«So, we’re talking about sex.»

«Yes, Sere, I really think it’s a dating site for adults, but I wouldn’t be sure about sex, because it could only be virtual encounters, like chatrooms with webcam.»

«I don’t think it’s such an original idea. I think there are now so many of them. But how is the site called?»

«I don’t know, but I’m not sure it’s already working. I think the company had a stupid name like New Dates, I didn’t understand.»

«Some of my friends told me crazy things about these sites.»

«Like what?» I ask.

«I don’t know if it’s all true, but these two stoners signed up to meet up with their potential partner. However, they did it just for fun: they put in all their personal info and preferences.»

«What kind of preferences?»

«Preferences of all kinds: appearance-related, but also their favourite sexual activity or sexual deviations.»

«Interesting. Then?»

«Nothing, then the portal selects people based on similarities and common interests.»

«And what did your friends choose?»

«But nothing in particular: they just selected that they were interested in flings and then they selected the physical features they were looking for in a man. The portal selected different individuals to my two friends, quite attractive and also from rather close areas. The same evening, they organized a date, each with the partner chosen from the dozens suggested by the portal. One went to a town in the province of Bergamo, on Lake Iseo, I don’t remember exactly which one; the other in a town towards Cremona. They agreed to meet up at the end of the evening to share their impressions.»

«Yes, maybe your friends are a little crazy. They could have been in danger...»

«That’s right. You never know who you’re going to meet. However, to make a long story short, one said that her date did not match the photo on the site: he looked like Yogi Bear but overweight and smelled of alcohol. The other friend got a boy of twenty, not the man of forty she was expecting.»

«So did they do anything in the end?»

«The girl who dated Yogi Bear ran away insulting him. From what I gather, he was saying that she had to end the date in a positive way anyway, because this is the community policy. At those words she started screaming in the bar where they met and she left. The other friend who went out with the young boy said that she felt sorry for him and felt compelled to do something, but I don’t know exactly what she meant...»

«Nice experience, though, Sere. I don’t know, I would never do it: I am against extramarital affairs as a principle, but even if I were free and looking for similar flings, I don’t think I would ever want to meet someone like that, just to have sex. I would look for something different.»

«Yes, Lavi, neither do I, I think. It could also be arousing, but if you meet similar individuals... so scary.»

«What do you mean by arousing?»

«Yes, it could be fun. I would never want to meet someone without my husband’s knowing, I would never do it, but I have been browsing around those sites there and there are also couples who are looking for other people: it sounds interesting... it’s just a thought...»

«Sorry, I don’t get it: would you like to meet another couple, together with your husband, to have sex?»

Serena brings an index finger to her mouth, nibbling at it, and she begins to move the tip of her right shoe up and down by leveraging her heel.

«Is that what you meant?» I keep at it.

«Yes, Lavi, more or less. Come on, I don’t know: it’s not a good idea to say things like that at 8:40 in the morning while I’m still asleep and anyway, no, I don’t think I’d like to have sex with my husband and another couple, or swap couples» she replies a little confused.

«Okay, Sere, I thought you said the opposite before.»

I look at her in a puzzled and amused way as if I am expecting a further explanation on the matter, but she continues to nibble her finger and fiddle with her shoe. Her slightly wavy hair falls on her shoulders and her hazel eyes release a bright light. Those tight jeans, and those ankles, tightened by nylon stockings, finish off what I am looking at, standing in front of the window; she doesn’t look forty-five at all: she looks like a sassy little girl, but well dressed.

And those legs of hers are really perfect.

She touches her thighs with her palms, rubbing her jeans. «But do I have a stain on my jeans, Lavi?» she asks. «Right, I must have got dirty with the icing sugar off the pastry earlier on.»

«No, there’s nothing wrong with your jeans, I don’t think, why?»

«I thought that you were staring at my legs.»

«No, I was just looking at you because I was amused by your mischievous girlish attitude.»

I hear the door open and the four new girls come in, the ones who arrived from the main office two months ago.

We greet them from the back of the room. The four of them say «hello» altogether and go to the first two rows of desks, settling down at their workstations.

«They seem very nice today too» Serena says in a low voice.

«Yes, they seem to have been so sociable for the last two months» I say in a whisper. «At least they keep at it.»

«I guess I have to start work: see you later at the coffee break.»

«Yes, good luck with your work, Sere. One moment...» I add in a low voice, «anyway the four nice girls spared you the explanation of the arousing thing.»

«If you wish, I’ll give you a proper explanation. Perhaps.»

She looks at her thighs, she takes two steps forward and, leaning her torso over the desk, whispers: «And you will have to explain to me why you keep staring at my legs.»

2.2 LIFE - THREE

I look up and notice that the front door opens: Giorgio, Umberto, Andrea and Tiziano are coming in together. They are Sbandofin longer standing employees, already at the agency when I started working here in 2007, at the age of thirty-two. I was starting off my third job, preceded by others which lasted for a rather short period. Here I put down some roots, considering that the job is not too depressing and the work environment is quite pleasant.

The four colleagues are now busy walking to their workstations as they do every day. They are all around fifty-five years old: they have good manners and they always go around in groups, rarely seem to be willing to talk to younger colleagues. They always behave in a somewhat detached and defensive manner, as if they want to protect their group and preserve their greater seniority, which is an unquestionable factor, in my opinion.

They meet every morning sharp at the bar in front of the office for breakfast. The same scene is repeated at their lunch break: always together, always united.

«Hello everyone» I say.

«Good morning Lavinia» they reply one after the other, but with the same pitch and with the same neutral tone.

Tiziano and Andrea sit in the row in front of mine in the large open space; on the other hand, Giorgio and Umberto sit in row in front of the new girls.

It is 8:59 am and the office is almost full, ready for the working day: only Maddalena is missing, the girl who sits next to my desk. She may have been delayed by some strange adversity. And also Teresa, the manager: she arrives around ten or a little later.

I can see the phone LED lighting up and I hear Serena’s phone ringing in the distance. The first phone call of the day which will quite possibly made by some desperate individual looking for money. According to the statistics, the early hours of the workdays are filled by this kind of individuals, as if these characters had spent the whole night mulling over how to get a loan. Usually, as the day progresses, more serious individuals with complex needs begin to show up: debt rearranging, large loans or more specific requests of financial brokering.

I have to look for some funding for the three individuals I met yesterday morning: they came here one after the other, after Tom-the-plump-one had left the office. As if they had secretly agreed, the first made an absurd request; as soon as I managed to get rid of him, the other one came in with an even more unlikely question and, when I was beginning to think that the morning could come to an end without any further hassle, the last one arrived to give me the last blow.

For the first potential customer, I therefore have to look for a mortgage to buy his first house along with his wife. It is an easy thing to do because he is unemployed and with a spouse working part-time and getting paid under the counter. The man is desperate because so many banks have declined his request so he turned to us in the hope to find some sort of solution. By discarding every bank and setting aside the blue puppet, not so keen on this kind of loans, FinExtreme is the last resort.

I press the button for my contact list on the phone, I look for the one of these criminals and press the button to call the selected number.

«FinExtreme, good morning, how can I help you?»

«Hi, I’m Lavinia from Sbandofin in Brescia, can I speak to Ettore? I am calling for a request for a loan from one of our clients.»

«Hold on, please, I check if he is available.»

«Great, thank you.»

I am on hold and I keep my eyes on the monitor. As I have done on many occasions in the past, I try to picture what the office of these sharks may look like, and I am not too sure whether it would be a modern building in the south of Milan or an ancient building in the medieval centre. I switch the telephone receiver to my left ear and type in FinExtreme on Google, while a boring jingle is interspersed by a female voice that continues to thank me for my patience and is piercing my eardrum. I click on the icon at the far end of the window and, after a few moments, the map appears with a placeholder around Lambrate. I try to view the outside with Street View: no futuristic buildings or ancient buildings, only old, dilapidated condos that looked more like public housing, rather than the headquarters of prestigious financial intermediaries.

I scroll forward, and then to the right. The three embossed digits on a brass plate tilted about twenty degrees from the ground, match those ones that I read on their address. I hold down the left button and I position the Google camera towards the top floor, as the tune almost starts to harm my cochlear nerve. Maybe a small apartment used as an office, with Ettore in the kitchen deceiving customers with disproportionate rates, the girl who answers the phone with her desk at the entrance and two thugs working as bill collectors waiting for orders in the bathroom, one in the tub and the other sitting on the toilet.

I am still waiting, thinking back about Ettore’s voice which has always appeared nice and polite to me. It would clash with the picture that I have just made in my mind, perhaps only astounded by the annoying music.

«Ready. Hi Lavinia Sbandofin, how are you? We haven’t been in touch for a long time.»

«Good morning Ettore FinExtreme, everything is fine here, thank you. The reason why I am calling you is that some time ago I asked you for help regarding a mortgage for a person who was unable to show clear guarantees concerning his/her income.»

«Questionable guarantees: yes, I think I understand. More exactly, what is it about?»

«It is a request for a first-time buyer mortgage for a couple: he is unemployed, she has a part-time job, she works flexible hours in a family, working as a housekeeper. Do you still grant this kind of mortgages?»

«In short, she works as a housekeeper for a family of friends?»

«Yes, that’s it, something like that: she’s busy, but you know what friends are like, you do me a favour, I do you a favour, nothing too formal.»

«I see. But what capital are we talking about? And are these friends generous enough?»

«The house costs around 110,000 euros: it is a two-room apartment here in the province of Brescia. Sure, friends are quite generous: in short, I understand that they have a nineteenth-century mentality.»

«A mentality...» Ettore repeats with a slightly perplexed tone. «Ah, you are saying that they are old-fashioned. Old-fashioned as far as the number, of course. But I think I’m not with you: do they have an eight hundred mentality or a one thousand and eight hundred mentality?»

«No. Nineteenth century, not one thousand and eight hundred. Otherwise, I would have said 1800s, don’t you think? The 1800’s mentality would seem to me too generous for a part-time housekeeper.»