The Ball. Erik Pethersen

vomit deep down my bowels.

      Check, amend, send. Filed.

      I press the button to call the notary on my phone.

      «Excuse me, is that all the deeds for today, right? What are you doing? Can I pop over to talk about the slut, so that I take a break from all the filing?»

      «Sure, Brando, we can confer right now.»

      I come out of my office, turn right and I walk for a short distance and I get to Alessandro’s office.

      «Here I am, ready to confer» I giggle.

      I am sitting on the armchair in front of the notary’s desk which, looking at it more carefully, as that happened several times, it is not really a desk, it looks more like an old wooden table, with an uneven surface. It may date back 1700’s, or a similar period. Behind the desk, against the wall, I see a white bookcase which draws my attention: it is almost as high as the ceiling, five or six metre wide and it has seven shelves. Up above it, there are all the deeds of sale arranged chronologically, since the beginning of the notary’s career, they are facing the room in front, squeezed in elegant black volumes with a silk-screened spine with golden characters.

      «So?» I venture to say.

      «Just a moment» he says keeping his eyes on the screen.

      «Tuesday, February 7th, 2017, Provençal night.»

      «What a story!»

      «It is the Facebook page of the Bistrot: look how beautiful it is. Pistou and ratatouille: the pictures are very good.»

      I lean over the desk to look at the screen where the notary pointing to show me. «Are there photos taken by the chef today while making the food for tonight?»

      «Yes, the chef is an all-round artist: from cooking to photography.»

      «They are not bad at all, it’s a shame that you won’t be there. If you want to go right away, we can talk about it some other time. You can help your wife organise the evening» I try to suggest.

      «Have a seat, Brando: we have been postponing this for weeks» he replies, with an almost peremptory tone.

      «Right. Not always because of me, though.»

      «True. I am fed up with this issue myself now.»

      «Sorry, can you do a quick recap on the latest developments? I think I haven’t been there at the last two meetings.»

      «Sure. The last two meetings were confidential, Brando.»

      «Right, confidential.»

      «Correct. Let’s recap the whole thing and let’s get to the latest sequence of events from a few weeks ago» the notary starts off. «Mr and Mrs Pardoli got married around 2001, more or less. Augusto Pardoli was married before to another woman, did you know that, didn’t you?»

      «Yes, I got it while taking care of the deeds.»

      «Good. He was born in 1950, so at the time of his second marriage, he was somewhere in his 50s.»

      «On the other hand, Marisa is much younger than him, right notary?»

      «Yes, I would say so. However, she must be now the same age he was at the time of the marriage. Let me check, I opened the last deed earlier on» the notary says shifting the mouse. «Yes, she was born in 1968: so, she is forty- nine. Right, she is three years younger than me, I remember now.»

      «She looks quite well for her age, she looks five or six years younger.»

      «Maybe so, Brando. However, I would say that it is not necessary to discover whether or how much the lady looks after her appearance.»

      «Sure. Please go ahead.»

      «As from the date of their wedding, Augusto has been constantly giving gifts to Marisa. At first they were cash donations, then he gave her the house where they live, and soon after the one on the lake. In the last few years, Marisa decided to take up a job, and I quote, because she was tired of being at home, doing nothing all day. That’s how the limited company was set up to run a retail footwear business: a shoe shop for ladies and gents.»

      «Right...» I say feeling a little puzzled, trying to stimulate my neutrons in order to understand what the gender of the people buying shoes has got to do with the whole matter.

      «At first the company belonged to the two of them: fifty fifty; that’s what Mr Pardoli said anyway, he could have helped her to run it with his experience in the business sector.»

      «Just out of curiosity» I interrupt him «what is Mr Pardoli into? I don’t really think that any file connected to his business has ever been around the office.»

      «I think he has a small company dealing with metal polishing. It belonged to his father, many years ago.»

      «Right. Anyway, for all the donations and the other deeds, we always talk about small amounts of cash.»

      «This is remarkable, Brando: I summed it all up. The cash donations that have been made so far amount to € 55.000. The two houses had a total market value of € 300.000, at the time of the donations, so I think that now it is less. The company had a capital of € 20.000 and each of the spouse had deposited €10.000. So, back then, there was no cash donation, let aside the fact that after a few months, Mr Pardoli gave his € 10.000 share to his wife» the notary explains firmly. He then looks away from me and stares at the screen, without saying a word.

      «Thorough recap, thank you. This is broadly what we know, right?»

      «I’d say so. What do you think about all these transactions?» Alessandro asks me looking back at me.

      «I don’t think much about them. I have never understood why they got married under the regime of separation of property and then poor Augusto started to give his wife everything, despite our attempts to dissuade him. It is okay if we just talk about money, a money transfer would have been sufficient, on the other hand, it becomes a problem when people start donating properties, because selling it then can become an issue.»

      «Why did you refer to Augusto as poor?»

      «Well, Alessandro, I said that because he looks like a henpecked man, like many of the kind. She is much younger than him, he tries his best to hold on to her, giving her as much as he can put together. These situations are not usually created by logic: these decisions are not made using your head but using some other parts of your body.»

      «Which ones, Brando?»

      «I meant» I answer him back pausing for a while, «I don’t know, using your gut, I would say, not your head. We say that, don’t we?»

      «True: using your gut. Why do you often refer to Marisa using that word...?»

      «Well, notary. If I am not wrong, when I use that nickname, you immediately understand who I am talking about, right?»

      «Sure.»

      «There you go. That word suits the person in my opinion. It’s like when a person is very thin and people say that she or he is as thin as a rake» I reply, while the notary looks at me puzzled, not saying a word. «I’ll give you another example. Today the plump guy with a moustache, the guy from the virtual brothel, Newco Dating Ltd, looked a bit like Tom Sellek: I could start calling him like this if he was around the office a bit more often. You would understand who I am talking about, wouldn’t you?»

      «It’s maybe because I have only seen him once, however, I don’t know whether I could easily match the actor to that face: I mean, the word used for Marisa goes straighter to the point. Have you got any more examples?»

      «I don’t know. You don’t like rake. For instance...» I go on saying, keeping my voice down, «if I said that the peroxide blonde bush finishes work in ten minutes and at 6.00 pm on the dot this person will leave the office, who would you think of?»

      «This is easy, but there is also some affection behind it all.»

      «Yes,