During an afternoon break Anna conducted me to a couple of furniture warehouses.
The tables I finally decided I liked were crummy and modern enough to break your heart.
Anna noticed quick as a flash and burbled, 'Why, Enrico! They're exactly like the ones in—'
I trod neatly on her foot and ordered three, for delivery next afternoon. 'They're just the thing I need in the workshop, Auntie,' I explained loudly.
On the way home Anna demanded, 'Has the beautiful signora said you could buy them on her account?'
'Not yet.'
'But you expect she will agree?'
'Yes,' I lied, looking Anna straight in the eye.
'They're expensive, Lovejoy.'
'They're for the rip,' I said coldly. 'What's expense between friends?'
She saw sense. 'Why did you tell the man to deliver the tables at four o'clock? The Emporium's closed—'
'Anna, love,' I told her wearily. 'Shut it.' She was driving me mad. 'And you forgot your voice, you silly bitch.' Old Anna had twice spoken with the mellifluous voice of a young woman. I'd had to kick her into the right gear.
She gave me a mouthful. 'It's working with a selfish brute like you!' But I could tell she was shaken.
It was in this happy mood of fellowship we parted, Anna furiously plunging into the nearest crowd of tourists and me slamming off to the workshop for another few hours'
beavering.
Mondays are always busy with customers. Several times I was interrupted by Fabio to try the tray dodge, which began to get on my nerves. It seemed every few minutes.
Still, whoever pays the piper. Whether it was the row with Anna or the knowledge of Piero's special, erm, position with regard to Adriana I honestly don't know. But by closing time I was thoroughly cheesed off. When Adriana called me in to hand me my restaurant chit I refused to accept it.
'No, thank you, signora.'
Piero was bolting the back yard. Fabio was checking the window grilles.
'Where will you eat, Lovejoy?' Her frigging trump card.
'I'll manage.'
She flamed. 'Like you did the other night, I suppose. With that fat tourist?'
So she knew of that. Good old Fabio. Or Piero. Or yet another of Arcellano's goons?
Christ.
'She wasn't fat.'
'And you naturally know for absolute certain how fat!'
I'd never seen her so pale and angry. It was one of those days. Everything was in a bloody mess at the Emporium and I didn't even know if Anna and I were still speaking.
'Signora,' I said, because I was fuming too, 'all my childhood I had food tickets on the charity. I'll have no more. Please decide what you think I've earned. Give me any cheap antique you think will come near it. I'll manage the way I always have. Antiques is my game. Greed appears to be no different in Rome than anywhere else.'
I left her to make the choice and went out to help with the locking up, though one of the others always checked them after me again anyway.
We did our reporting session as usual, me last. I told her I'd ordered two modern cafeteria-type tables that afternoon and told the suppliers to bill the Emporium.
Fabio started up instantly. 'Of all the nerve.'
'They were needed for glue tables in the workshop.'
'Will there be any further expenses, Lovejoy? I mean, this is your last requirement?'
'No. An old box iron, but I can make one of these.'
'Very well. But in future ask first. Is that understood?'
I drew breath to explain that there was very little future left, but Fabio broke in with an exasperated 'Oh!' so I turned to go, writing the whole bloody thing off, when Adriana said, 'Lovejoy. Here, please.'
Please! She was holding out a sealed envelope between her fingers, avoiding my eye by the trick of paying attention to Fabio's complaints. I hesitated, but took it and went to shut the workshop windows.
I opened the envelope. A posh monogrammed card was inside. It read, Signora Adriana Albanese requests the pleasure of Signor Lovejoy's company this evening at supper in the Gold Season Restaurant, Rome. Eight-thirty for nine o'clock.
I had the sense to put it in my jacket pocket before I turned round. Piero was waiting there in the doorway.
'All done, Lovejoy?' he said without inflection. It could have meant anything. I said,
'Nearly.' And left.
* * *
I felt a real scruff in the Gold Season. The carpet absorbed me up to my ankles. The walls were discreetly
