Читать книгу Me and You - Niccolo Ammaniti - Страница 11

‘Coffee?’

A waitress is studying me over the top of her glasses. She’s holding a silver coffee pot.

I put out my cup. ‘Thank you.’

She fills it up to the brim. ‘Are you here for the fair?’

I shake my head. ‘What fair?’

‘The horse fair.’ She looks at me. She’s waiting for me to tell her why I happen to be in Cividale del Friuli. In the end she pulls out a notebook. ‘What’s your room number?’

I show her the key. ‘One hundred and nineteen.’

She writes down the number. ‘If you’d like any more coffee you can serve yourself from the buffet.’

‘Thanks.’

‘My pleasure.’

As soon as she moves away I pull a piece of paper folded into four out of my wallet. I flatten it on the table.

My sister Olivia wrote it ten years ago, the twenty-fourth of February 2000.

I was fourteen years old and she was twenty-three.