Читать книгу The Ball - Erik Pethersen - Страница 23

I look up and notice that the front door opens: Giorgio, Umberto, Andrea and Tiziano are coming in together. They are Sbandofin longer standing employees, already at the agency when I started working here in 2007, at the age of thirty-two. I was starting off my third job, preceded by others which lasted for a rather short period. Here I put down some roots, considering that the job is not too depressing and the work environment is quite pleasant.

The four colleagues are now busy walking to their workstations as they do every day. They are all around fifty-five years old: they have good manners and they always go around in groups, rarely seem to be willing to talk to younger colleagues. They always behave in a somewhat detached and defensive manner, as if they want to protect their group and preserve their greater seniority, which is an unquestionable factor, in my opinion.

They meet every morning sharp at the bar in front of the office for breakfast. The same scene is repeated at their lunch break: always together, always united.

«Hello everyone» I say.

«Good morning Lavinia» they reply one after the other, but with the same pitch and with the same neutral tone.

Tiziano and Andrea sit in the row in front of mine in the large open space; on the other hand, Giorgio and Umberto sit in row in front of the new girls.

It is 8:59 am and the office is almost full, ready for the working day: only Maddalena is missing, the girl who sits next to my desk. She may have been delayed by some strange adversity. And also Teresa, the manager: she arrives around ten or a little later.

I can see the phone LED lighting up and I hear Serena’s phone ringing in the distance. The first phone call of the day which will quite possibly made by some desperate individual looking for money. According to the statistics, the early hours of the workdays are filled by this kind of individuals, as if these characters had spent the whole night mulling over how to get a loan. Usually, as the day progresses, more serious individuals with complex needs begin to show up: debt rearranging, large loans or more specific requests of financial brokering.

I have to look for some funding for the three individuals I met yesterday morning: they came here one after the other, after Tom-the-plump-one had left the office. As if they had secretly agreed, the first made an absurd request; as soon as I managed to get rid of him, the other one came in with an even more unlikely question and, when I was beginning to think that the morning could come to an end without any further hassle, the last one arrived to give me the last blow.

For the first potential customer, I therefore have to look for a mortgage to buy his first house along with his wife. It is an easy thing to do because he is unemployed and with a spouse working part-time and getting paid under the counter. The man is desperate because so many banks have declined his request so he turned to us in the hope to find some sort of solution. By discarding every bank and setting aside the blue puppet, not so keen on this kind of loans, FinExtreme is the last resort.

I press the button for my contact list on the phone, I look for the one of these criminals and press the button to call the selected number.

«FinExtreme, good morning, how can I help you?»

«Hi, I’m Lavinia from Sbandofin in Brescia, can I speak to Ettore? I am calling for a request for a loan from one of our clients.»

«Hold on, please, I check if he is available.»

«Great, thank you.»

I am on hold and I keep my eyes on the monitor. As I have done on many occasions in the past, I try to picture what the office of these sharks may look like, and I am not too sure whether it would be a modern building in the south of Milan or an ancient building in the medieval centre. I switch the telephone receiver to my left ear and type in FinExtreme on Google, while a boring jingle is interspersed by a female voice that continues to thank me for my patience and is piercing my eardrum. I click on the icon at the far end of the window and, after a few moments, the map appears with a placeholder around Lambrate. I try to view the outside with Street View: no futuristic buildings or ancient buildings, only old, dilapidated condos that looked more like public housing, rather than the headquarters of prestigious financial intermediaries.

I scroll forward, and then to the right. The three embossed digits on a brass plate tilted about twenty degrees from the ground, match those ones that I read on their address. I hold down the left button and I position the Google camera towards the top floor, as the tune almost starts to harm my cochlear nerve. Maybe a small apartment used as an office, with Ettore in the kitchen deceiving customers with disproportionate rates, the girl who answers the phone with her desk at the entrance and two thugs working as bill collectors waiting for orders in the bathroom, one in the tub and the other sitting on the toilet.

I am still waiting, thinking back about Ettore’s voice which has always appeared nice and polite to me. It would clash with the picture that I have just made in my mind, perhaps only astounded by the annoying music.

«Ready. Hi Lavinia Sbandofin, how are you? We haven’t been in touch for a long time.»

«Good morning Ettore FinExtreme, everything is fine here, thank you. The reason why I am calling you is that some time ago I asked you for help regarding a mortgage for a person who was unable to show clear guarantees concerning his/her income.»

«Questionable guarantees: yes, I think I understand. More exactly, what is it about?»

«It is a request for a first-time buyer mortgage for a couple: he is unemployed, she has a part-time job, she works flexible hours in a family, working as a housekeeper. Do you still grant this kind of mortgages?»

«In short, she works as a housekeeper for a family of friends?»

«Yes, that’s it, something like that: she’s busy, but you know what friends are like, you do me a favour, I do you a favour, nothing too formal.»

«I see. But what capital are we talking about? And are these friends generous enough?»

«The house costs around 110,000 euros: it is a two-room apartment here in the province of Brescia. Sure, friends are quite generous: in short, I understand that they have a nineteenth-century mentality.»

«A mentality...» Ettore repeats with a slightly perplexed tone. «Ah, you are saying that they are old-fashioned. Old-fashioned as far as the number, of course. But I think I’m not with you: do they have an eight hundred mentality or a one thousand and eight hundred mentality?»

«No. Nineteenth century, not one thousand and eight hundred. Otherwise, I would have said 1800s, don’t you think? The 1800’s mentality would seem to me too generous for a part-time housekeeper.»

«Yes, actually, Lavinia you are right» replies Ettore, giggling. «However, if these are the centuries in question and that is the value of the property, I believe a solution can be found. However, I’ll tell you right away, the rate will certainly not be low.»

«You mean something around 5% all inclusive, Ettore?»

«No, Lavinia, we are no longer able to keep so low: I would say that we are even around 6.5% all inclusive.»

«6.5%? But it’s a lot!»

«We can’t do better now. However, the threshold rate is around 7.5% now and we are well below.»

«Does one percent mean well below your parameters, Ettore?»

«Yes, Lavinia: for my parameters, one percent is a lot: that’s 1,000 euros per 100,000 euros of capital per year.»

«Here, exactly. Anyway, assuming it might be okay, what documents should the couple need get off their friends?»

«They can always sign an agreement in which friends declare to remain friends for at least another twenty or thirty years: a private agreement like this may also be enough. Otherwise, there is always the possibility that they will give them a direct guarantee. This would bring the rate down significantly.»

«Sure, but from experience I know that friends in the end, when it comes to money, they don’t turn out to be such good friends.»

«Yes, Lavinia, you know what they say here in Milan: friends, bloody friends...» says Ettore, interrupting himself and grinning.

«Even here, ninety kilometres away, they say the same» I reply, laughing.

«Then I will send you the details of the property and of the individuals» I continue, «if you draw up a draft, I’ll submit everything to the two people.»

«All right, e-mail me everything. And if the deal goes through, you too can pop over the notary when the deed will be signed, so we can finally meet: it’s been a long time since I’d love to meet your voice in person.»

«Of course: to meet my voice in person, nice expression, I like it! If they get the loan, I’ll see you at the notary, sure: in fact, we have been talking on the phone for about ten years and we’ve never seen each other.»

«You promised, Lavinia Sbandofin: deed at the notary, I’m counting on it.»

«All right Ettore FinExtreme, now I’ll forward everything to you. Bye, have a good day.»

«You too. Bye.»

I hang up the phone, I click on the mail software and, once the cadastral registration is attached, I add a few words referring to the phone call just made. Finally, I choose Ettore’s address from the contact list and send the e-mail.

I click on the yellow icon and move on to the next folder: this is the guy with shaved hair and a bleached mohawk who, at the beginning of yesterday’s brief meeting, also demanded a coffee, convinced that he was able to express the ideas better with a stimulant of some kind in his blood.

Actually his situation was not too complicated to explain: twenty-two, never worked and looking for five thousand euros to go to Thailand for a month with an elusive girl who, at first, seemed to me to live with him in Italy and, a few minutes later, she turned out to be waiting for him for several months in the country of destination. When I suggested him to look for a guarantor who could give him access to some credit, he replied almost whimpering that friends and relatives had completely declined any of his requests. Considering his appearance and his way of speaking, the news of the repeated denials did not surprise me, confirming only my initial decision, taken even before the word coffee: I press the e-mail icon and enter the address in the recipient field that I had saved in the clipboard.

We are sorry, but we have not been able to find any suitable solution to your funding request. Looking forward to meeting you on other future occasions, I wish you a good day.

Lavinia - Sbandofin.

Third folder: the man in his fifties looking for an anonymous lease for the purchase of a car.

⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎

I hear the front door make a faint noise and I look to the far right: I see Maddalena entering, opening a gap of about fifty centimetres, quite enough to let her frail body slide between the jamb and the large shiny steel plate. She closes the door behind her and nods to Serena. She walks along the corridor, disappearing behind the plants, and showing again, after about twenty seconds, under the opening of the glass wall, reaching the desk on my right.

«Hi Maddalena, are you all right?» I ask almost whispering.

«Hi Lavinia, not too bad: I have a terrible headache, I couldn’t even get out of bed this morning.»

«Headaches are horrible» I reply quietly. «But did you take anything for it, like some ibuprofen or paracetamol?»

«No, medicines are poison. I didn’t take anything, God forbid: a few hours and it will go» she replies sourly.

«Yes, time heals everything» I reply smiling.

«There’s nothing to laugh about, anyway.»

«Sorry, Maddalena, I was just saying.»

I reopen Chrome, I start looking for some strange leasing company. I nonchalantly catch a glimpse of Maddalena out of the corner of my eye arranging her bag in the third drawer of the shelf. Before closing the drawer, she takes out his smartphone and places it scrupulously on a stand placed on her desk, just below the monitor: it is a plastic gizmo which I have always disregarded the usefulness, thinking that my phone is quite happy to sit on the flat surface of my desk. She then takes out the usual three small bottles and lines them up to the right of the useless stand, checking that the labels are facing the working position. She closes the drawer and sits down on the chair.

I asked her one day what benefits those three little bottles had and Maddalena told me about some plant extracts that have a positive influence on emotional imbalances, worries and health in general: one for sleep disorders, one for social anxiety and the other to overcome grief, if I am not wrong. After the explanation, I lost some interest in the exact use of the products and now I am amused at this daily ritual, repeated in the same way every morning when she arrives at her office. However, I noticed the colour of the bottles are continuously changed, which led me to think that even the distress these magical extracts are used for, can change quite frequently.

I scroll through the search results with little enthusiasm while, always out of the corner of my eye, I see her busy carrying out the second preparatory action leading up to the beginning of the working day: the extension and compression of the piston of the chair, until reaching the optimal distance between the seat and the floor. I straighten my back a little, I think I have never changed the height of my chair: a long time ago I had placed it in a position that suited to my height, and that was it.

«Lavinia, can’t you see that you too get a back pain sitting on these armchairs? You want to straighten up now: your bones have taken on a wrong posture and it will be difficult to get them straight back» Maddalena suddenly stammers.

I turn to her and look at her beige turtleneck sweater, paired with oversized hazel pants and a pair of hard to define brown shoes.

«Actually, Maddalena, I have no back pain: I have just straightened up a little because I was hunching my back under the weight of the useless research I am doing» I reply to her, looking at her with a smile.

«So, you were just teasing me because I can’t get the chair in the right position?»

«No, I was looking for someone for a lease, I wasn’t really watching you» I reply calmly. «Do you need a hand to get yourself sorted?»

«I don’t need help, I just want no one to keep moving the position of my chair.»

I watch her slender legs, which can be seen under the deformed trousers, not at all comparable to Serena’s, dangling from a height about forty centimetres higher than mine. «Now you seem a little too high to me: don’t you think you should lower it a little?»

«Yes, that’s a bit too much, but I can’t move if I pull the lever.» I get up and walk to Maddalena.

«By moving this upward, won’t you lower it down?» I ask, pointing to the lever on the right of the seat.

«No, look» replies Maddalena, shaking the metal bar.

«Strange. Sorry: try to pull it while I push you down.»

Maddalena pulls the lever, I grab her two armrests and push her towards the ground.

«Enough, that’s fine.»

«So, you’re okay?»

«Yes» she replies. «Aren’t you cold in that sweater there, Lavinia?» she then adds looking at me up and down.

«No, it’s always hot in here» I retort, as I sit back at my seat.

«Maybe, I’m still cold in this sweater. Besides, all that flesh well in sight, are you sure it’s okay?»

«Okay for what?» I ask turning to her.

«I don’t know, I wouldn’t go around like that all naked.»

«I have only my wrists and ten centimetres of forearms uncovered and the sweater is just slightly open around my neck: I don’t feel like I’m that naked.»

The next time, do it by yourself, I won’t help you anymore, poor psycho-depressed bitch, I think as I start scrolling the page again to look for a suitable company to grant a lease out of the usual paths. In fact, the disturbing individual told me in secret that all his cars, including his wife’s, are underwritten with the financial companies of the car manufacturers and he wants to avoid documents of new cars his spouse is not aware of, lying around the house. What he said sounded a bit confused at first, then it turned out to be quite clear: he wants to sign a finance lease for a car that will not be used by him, his wife, or by a person who his wife would like to meet. I scroll down the page again and arrive around the eightieth result. I go back to the initial search field and add, next to the term leasing, the words intermediary registration.

The first result now shows the name of a company that sounds completely unknown to me: I click and find myself on the registration form in the reserved area of a company whose name is incomprehensible and difficult to pronounce. I scroll down, I click and I am on a registration form of the restricted area of a company with an incomprehensible and unpronounceable registered name.

I scroll down, I click on FAQ, I run through the first trivial questions with the relative predictable answers and at the bottom of the page, I find out that in order to register as an intermediary or mediator, it’s enough to fill in the electronic form seen on the previous page, attaching the Chamber of Commerce registration and the identity document of the owner of the individual company that is about to register or that of the legal representative. With this type of access, the following FAQ grants the possibility of requesting contracts for one’s own customers and their complete management through the appropriate online website, getting rid of all the paperwork, according to the last timely response to the precise final question.

I smile staring at the screen, save the address in my favourites and I think I will submit the matter to Teresa as soon as I get the opportunity to see her.