Veronese. Which had to be better than the old waste-bin-at-the-bus terminus trick.
Morris went over the letter, rewriting it on the back of another gas bill and changing a few details. It was important to sound more threatening and a bit crazy, he thought. If you werenât crazy, nobody would believe youâd ever really do anything. Begin something like,
EGREGIO SIGNOR
CARTUCCIO
, YOU STINK, YOU KNOW THAT, STINK, YOU AND ALL YOUR FILTHY RICH LEATHERGOODS BOYS WITH YOUR COPIES OF
PENTHOUSE
AND A SLUT IN EVERY TOWN. REMEMBER ME?
He checked up a few words in the dictionary and a couple of points in his grammar book to make sure he had the Italian just so and then copied out the final thing in an uneven, disturbed looking hand, making the low quality Biro smear sticky blotches all over the place.
When he had finished and popped the thing into an envelope, he felt so hugely entertained (heâd never mail it anyway) that he started another one directly, and this time straight onto letter paper.
Gentile Signora Trevisan
, he used his own handwriting now, at its most sloping and lyrical, occasionally wiping the Biro on his handkerchief. Beside his left hand he kept Massiminaâs letter with its long sob sentences like, âOh Morris, if only we could arrange to meet somewhere, if only I had your phone number, I miss you so -â and then the cries of desperation - 'Mammaâs saying I must do nothing but study because I'm so behind at school and I have no time for silly crushes on older men, but Morris, truly, I do love you and â¦âÂ
Gentile Signora Trevisan
, Many thanks for your communication of last month. I do appreciate the care you are determined to take of your beautiful youngest daughter. I also realize that you must be aware of what I now confess to my shame, that I lied to you all about my work and prospects, though I insist I did so simply for fear that had you known my real and modest situation you would have severed any relationship between myself and Massimina immediately. After receiving your letter I felt I had lost everything and I decided to try and accept it. But now I have received a letter from your daughter telling me her feelings for me are as strong as ever, and with this to give me courage I find I simply canât and wonât let go. I love Massimina, Signora Trevisan, and wish more than anything else to be beside her. What I now beg you to do is to let me see her sometimes, albeit in the presence of others, and to give me two or three years to prove myself as a prospective husband. I swear, on whatever scrap of honour remains to me, that I will never take advantage of any affection Massimina may have in my regard and that I will do my utmost to make up for my disgraceful behaviour as a guest in your house.
Most sincerely, MORRIS D UCKWORTH
It was awfully overblown, Morris thought. But that was the Italian style (donât think a single word in English was the secret). And at least it saved him having to come up with any less conventional expressions of emotion. The following morning then outside the post office in Verona, Morris tossed a coin to decide whether to send the letters. Heads yes, tails no. Both times the coin came down tails. He tossed it again and still tails. The hell with it. Morris mailed the letters anyway. They could do no harm.
âBut it does seem amazing to me they managed to drag themselves up to the second floor on just that bare wistaria.â
Morris was speaking to Gregorio between lessons. It was a chance meeting in a café that spread its tables out onto the stylish esplanade of Piazza Bra; and Gregorio said yes, the police thought it must have been a teenager, or even a young child, because whoever it was hadnât broken a single branch near the top. And then it would explain his taking something so basically valueless.
âGood job they didnât spot the little silver Neptune though, the one on the mantelpiece, you know.
Morris went over the letter, rewriting it on the back of another gas bill and changing a few details. It was important to sound more threatening and a bit crazy, he thought. If you werenât crazy, nobody would believe youâd ever really do anything. Begin something like,
EGREGIO SIGNOR
CARTUCCIO
, YOU STINK, YOU KNOW THAT, STINK, YOU AND ALL YOUR FILTHY RICH LEATHERGOODS BOYS WITH YOUR COPIES OF
PENTHOUSE
AND A SLUT IN EVERY TOWN. REMEMBER ME?
He checked up a few words in the dictionary and a couple of points in his grammar book to make sure he had the Italian just so and then copied out the final thing in an uneven, disturbed looking hand, making the low quality Biro smear sticky blotches all over the place.
When he had finished and popped the thing into an envelope, he felt so hugely entertained (heâd never mail it anyway) that he started another one directly, and this time straight onto letter paper.
Gentile Signora Trevisan
, he used his own handwriting now, at its most sloping and lyrical, occasionally wiping the Biro on his handkerchief. Beside his left hand he kept Massiminaâs letter with its long sob sentences like, âOh Morris, if only we could arrange to meet somewhere, if only I had your phone number, I miss you so -â and then the cries of desperation - 'Mammaâs saying I must do nothing but study because I'm so behind at school and I have no time for silly crushes on older men, but Morris, truly, I do love you and â¦âÂ
Gentile Signora Trevisan
, Many thanks for your communication of last month. I do appreciate the care you are determined to take of your beautiful youngest daughter. I also realize that you must be aware of what I now confess to my shame, that I lied to you all about my work and prospects, though I insist I did so simply for fear that had you known my real and modest situation you would have severed any relationship between myself and Massimina immediately. After receiving your letter I felt I had lost everything and I decided to try and accept it. But now I have received a letter from your daughter telling me her feelings for me are as strong as ever, and with this to give me courage I find I simply canât and wonât let go. I love Massimina, Signora Trevisan, and wish more than anything else to be beside her. What I now beg you to do is to let me see her sometimes, albeit in the presence of others, and to give me two or three years to prove myself as a prospective husband. I swear, on whatever scrap of honour remains to me, that I will never take advantage of any affection Massimina may have in my regard and that I will do my utmost to make up for my disgraceful behaviour as a guest in your house.
Most sincerely, MORRIS D UCKWORTH
It was awfully overblown, Morris thought. But that was the Italian style (donât think a single word in English was the secret). And at least it saved him having to come up with any less conventional expressions of emotion. The following morning then outside the post office in Verona, Morris tossed a coin to decide whether to send the letters. Heads yes, tails no. Both times the coin came down tails. He tossed it again and still tails. The hell with it. Morris mailed the letters anyway. They could do no harm.
âBut it does seem amazing to me they managed to drag themselves up to the second floor on just that bare wistaria.â
Morris was speaking to Gregorio between lessons. It was a chance meeting in a café that spread its tables out onto the stylish esplanade of Piazza Bra; and Gregorio said yes, the police thought it must have been a teenager, or even a young child, because whoever it was hadnât broken a single branch near the top. And then it would explain his taking something so basically valueless.
âGood job they didnât spot the little silver Neptune though, the one on the mantelpiece, you know.
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