Sybil Kempel

Headwinds


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There are no husbands, lovers ... that is, lovers I don't know ..." Dixon pointed out.

       Davis looked at him absently: "I already have too many headaches"

       "Problems?" Said Dixon, greedy.

       "Complicated things. Not problematic''

       "I don't know you anymore, Markus" Dixon laughed.

       "Do you always play golf?" Davis asked back.

       "Look at the tonnage..." the other answered.

       "You're a man who has gained some importance" said Davis, looking at him.

       "So are you sure you don't want to meet her?"

       "Why are you so insistent?" said Davis suspiciously "What is the deal between you two?"

       "Nothing at all. I swear" Dixon said with amusement.

       The two ladies returned to the table: ''Are you done with your secrets?'' asked Signora Lorenzi.

       "You hurried to the bar. I put more and more on it" said Dixon.

       "Everyone knows" Davis nodded to the waiter, then turned to Dixon: "Whiskey?"

       "If you pay..." Dixon answered.

       "Then where we were" said Davis, shuffling the cards quickly.

       "One to zero for you" said Dixon, winking at Davis "but don't count on an easy victory."

      Chapter 5

      "Heartless. It is a word I love, in the past few days…"

       Leslie Price he sank deeper into his helmet that exhaled hot air with a subtle buzz.

       Her face was pale, washed out, without any artifice and revealed a lady in her late thirties, undoubtedly pleasing, with the first signs of the time advancing carefully hidden by a light but structured make-up.

       ''Heartless. If George was 'careless' as you say, he wouldn't be like that towards me... detached" said the other lady in the chair next to him.

       "I would be worried and investigate to find out the reason for ‘carelessness’" said a third with her head full of curlers wrapped in a perfumed cloth.

       "Mrs. Cooper, please... don't move'' the girl who was fumbling around the chair cast a pleading look at the woman who was constantly moving.

       "I can't sit here for hours anymore. And to say that until recently...'' replied Mrs. Cooper annoyed at being taken back.

       Leslie closed her eyes and relaxed in her chair: "I hate indifference in a man but detachment... I find it fascinating. Only by detachment one can have the best victories''

       "You speak well that you have some experience in this regard... but we who have to preserve a status ... it is not so simple, Leslie, believe me..." Glenna Harrison, the first lady, raised her hand and fanned the air to underline her statement.

       "For a moment I would like to have your freedom" said the other, "not having obligations, fears, anxieties..."

       "And the salary of a husband..." said Leslie venomously. Mrs. Acacia Cooper gave a sharp smile.

       "There are the pros and cons" he finally murmured after a moment of silence.

       ''More against than pro'' concluded Glenna ''it is true, we can take away some small satisfaction that is not granted to all'' and let a sweet smile slip to Leslie Price ''but the obligations and above all the bitter bits to swallow... enough, I don't say more. You can imagine the rest..."

       "Let's imagine" said Mrs Cooper, ''entering a family like the one your hausband is coming from... it's mustn't be easy''

       Leslie listened distantly to the two friends' chatter. She deeply despised them. Mrs. Cooper had been a dull, provincial girl who had had the good fortune to marry a wealthy notary from a broken family. In no time the pale Acacia had become a luxuriant lady and had put on a stink under her nose that she never failed to show off like a dress signed in a high-ranking party.

       Glenna Harrison exhibited a standard of living that could not be sustained, it could be seen from small details that are maniacally hidden like a worn out lisa sleeve or a luxury bag. The husband was a mediocre university teacher of a secondary subject: he had found his niche and held it firmly with his nails, ready to kill if it were the case.

       Leslie shook her head slightly. Those two didn't understand anything. But she did, she had developed a class with a careful and discreet observation. She knew where she came from and rebelled. She wanted to grow and grew slowly but steadily...

       "You have to have clear ideas" she said softly, almost to herself.

       "What did you say?" Acacia asked.

       I was thinking" replied Leslie dreamily. Acacia glanced questioningly at Glenna who shrugged from under the helmet. At that moment the door of the shop rang out and Gianna Lorenzi made a theatrical entrance.

       "Gertie, do you have a chair for me now ?’’ she asked emphatically.

       An elegant woman emerged from the chest, her nails were manicured and glazed bright red.

       "Gianna" she said going towards her “For you there is always room’’ he said, smiling, and led her to an empty chair, where she was immediately joined by a petite girl in a large blue apron.

       Glenna looked at Acacia and rolled her eyes to the sky. Then, approaching Leslie, he whispered: ''This place is becoming increasingly infrequent...''

       "Why?" Leslie asked slyly.

       "Look who's here" Acacia murmured softly, nodding to Lorenzi that the girl was bundled up in a sort of white cloth shawl.

       In response, Leslie cleared his throat and greeted Lorenzi composedly: "Madame, good morning"

       Gianna turned and stretched a grim smile: "Leslie, dear... you too..."

       Mrs. Gertie Wilson, the owner of the restaurant turned around and stared for a moment, narrowing her eyes, at Leslie. Then he turned back to the Italian noblewoman: "Do you know Mrs Price?" he asked softly.

       "A little," Lorenzi replied dryly, "we met at some party."

       Acacia and Glenna exchanged a mischievous look and gently suppressed a chuckle.

       "It was great last Saturday" said Leslie aloud to Gianna.

       "My dear" replied the one with the impassive face resting on the draining board of the chair "if you refer to that ... which Mrs. Parker organized, allow me to disagree.''

       Leslie blushed then checked himself and assumed a modest air: "It seemed great to me...."

       "Tacky, you mean" added the other poisonous "very tacky and coarsely outlined"

       Leslie fell silent and the woman took advantage of it to make her dose higher. "I frankly don't know what he was aiming for, since there was no one so important... he undoubtedly spent a good deal of money but left everyone unsatisfied and turned out to be what he is, an upstart with questionable tastes''

       "Parvenu...." Leslie said.

       "It means enriched, a vulgar person without taste," explained Gianna, pleased. "Whoever is of recent wealth, is rarely really elegant"

       "It is not always true" Mrs. Cooper said, her face on fire, "there are also those with an innate sense of elegance"

       "You can never tell," Lorenzi conceded, surprised at that intrusion. "I myself have seen lovely girls of humble origins become truly women of the world... but it is very rare and usually takes a long time. Some things need to be breathed in a familiar atmosphere... "

       Glenna smiled: "This is a fairly real hypothesis, with some exceptions."

       "Obviously" conceded Gianna, and let herself go under her helmet with her eyes closed.