Read Online Skylight by José Saramago - Free Book Online Page B

references from my place of work and from the house I’ve been living in up until now. I’ll give you the addresses.”
    Using the window ledge to rest on, he wrote the two addresses on a scrap of paper and handed it to Silvestre, who at first made as if to refuse, certain that he wouldn’t bother to follow up those “references,” but, in the end, he took it. Standing in the middle of the empty room, the young man was looking at the old man and the old woman and they were looking at the young man. All three of them were pleased, with that smile in their eyes that is worth more than any broad, toothy grin.
    â€œI’ll move in today, then. I’ll bring my things over this evening. And I was hoping that perhaps I could come to some arrangement with the lady of the house as regards laundry.”
    Mariana said:
    â€œI hope so too, then there’ll be no need to have your laundry done elsewhere.”
    â€œAnd would you like some help moving the furniture back in?”
    Silvestre hastened to reassure him:
    â€œNo, it’s no bother. We’ll sort that out.”
    â€œAre you sure?”
    â€œQuite sure. It’s not heavy.”
    â€œGood, then I’ll see you later.”
    They accompanied him to the front door, all smiles. Out on the landing, the young man mentioned that he would need a key. Silvestre promised to have one made that very afternoon, and the young man left. Silvestre and Mariana went back into the room. Silvestre was still clutching the piece of paper on which their new lodger had written the addresses. He put it in his vest pocket and asked his wife:
    â€œSo, what do you think of him?”
    â€œHe seems nice enough. But honestly, when it comes to bargaining, you’re such a pushover.”
    Silvestre smiled:
    â€œIt wouldn’t have made that much difference to us . . .”
    â€œNo, but fifty escudos is still fifty escudos! I’m not sure how much I should charge him for his laundry, though . . .”
    Silvestre wasn’t listening. A look of irritation had suddenly appeared on his face, which made his nose look longer.
    â€œWhat’s up with you?” asked his wife.
    â€œWhat’s up? I mean, what were we thinking of? He told us his name and we didn’t even tell him ours, he arrived at lunchtime and we didn’t even ask him to join us. That’s what’s up!”
    Mariana couldn’t understand why he was so annoyed. There would be plenty of time to exchange names, and as for lunch, Silvestre should know that what would be enough for two might not be enough for three. Silvestre could tell from his wife’s face that she judged the matter to be of little importance, and so he changed the subject:
    â€œShall we move the furniture back in?”
    â€œAll right. Lunch isn’t ready yet anyway.”
    The move was quickly done. A bed, a bedside table, a chest of drawers and a chair. Mariana put clean sheets on the bed and gave the room a final tidying up. Husband and wife stood back to admire their work, but remained unsatisfied. The room still looked empty. Not that there was a lot of free space. On the contrary, you had to turn sideways to get in between the bed and the chest of drawers. But it lacked a certain something to cheer the place up and make it homey. Mariana went off and returned shortly afterward with a doily and a vase. Silvestre gave an approving nod. The furniture, so stiff and glum before, took on a more cheerful aspect. And with a rug to cover the bare floor and a few other such touches, the room took on an air of modest comfort. Mariana and Silvestre looked at each other and smiled, like people congratulating each other on the success of an enterprise.
    And then they went and ate their lunch.

7
    Lídia always took a nap after lunch. She had a tendency to lose weight, and her solution to this was to rest for two hours every afternoon. Lying on the soft, wide bed with her