Читать книгу Mistress - The Italian way - Delilah Jay - Страница 4

We’ve long banned a number of Italian products from our lives and our shopping lists: the multitude of Bright Colours of Veneto - nothing can deter me, not even the fact that my lovely former colleague was the one that maintained those private jets. Formula 1, the factory of creativity in Piedmont with its stream of new ideas for the world of driving and flying, the scent of Emilia Romagna captured in candles, creams and perfumes; comfy shoes with gummi bears stuck to the heels, prestigiously worn by corporate wives - totally banned, and soon my son will exchange his love of the red racing car as well as the world-famous chocolate factory that’s been so successful with all its brand names: crumbs of nuts in little balls of chocolate, a cherry in alcohol, sponsorship on MTV and VH1 from my own times past. It would be so hard to deprive kids of that yummy nut-nougat spread!

And we must not forget Adonis the beautiful! What yacht shall we use today? Not a problem for the president of the “Nouveau Riche Yacht Club” on Ponza. Cigarettes? Alcohol? No question! TobacPac and any box full of weed spewing out of packaging manufactured by your machinery? Unconditionally banned from Ferrara, Italy, after allegations of socialist tendencies for the purpose of subtly simulated possible intellectualism? And here he is, “Lello”, with the little cap, warbling on about Emilia Romagna communism in the house of the “Church Tower”

- still invited to glittering places by the Gransignore in Carozza high up in the hills above the sea on the island of Ponza! Drives well, doesn’t it? Called by the conceited

Gransignore, Germany’s most famous racing driver of all time drove that red car unerringly. Sadly, he wasn’t always on target, and certainly not always first. Wasn’t his fault that the marketing was more brilliant than the engineering! What power he wields, the Gransignore in Carozza... Is it really true that he is the most powerful man in Italy, after Silvio Berlusconi?

I wish I could have placed bets on Silvio Berlusconi’s choice of divorce lawyer. Way off the mark! I’d have lost that bet. That’s no surprise, because my choice of Barbara della Guerra’s stardom and fame gathered bitter-dark clouds above her head. Not that she lost a lot of cash from her bank account when she represented her client’s case against me - no, certainly not that. As Italy’s top divorce lawyer, she was no longer allowed to practise at court... all that’s left now is silly television shows! A circus full of passive clowns. They hide behind those who take the fall for them - in jail, or in death. The second option being much more likely. Safer.