Читать книгу Headwinds - Sybil Kempel - Страница 7

"Seriously" said Dixon, his brow furrowed and he raised his eyebrow in a shape of a circumflex. He sat alone at the bar while a hot beverage was smoking before his mustache. His cheeks were ruddy and his look was blank like someone who has already swallowed a lot of orange grog. In the neutral state in which he found himself at that moment, Dixon had his mind free of the threatening thoughts that besieged him during breaks in lucidity - way more - of what he allowed himself. He kept rubbing his chin and looked around as the nautical club's environment slowly came to life.

Webb didn't kept him company. He went from one table to another with the role of captain of a ship that honors the passengers of his greeting or his presence at their table, the result of forty years of experience played in that very role on the major transatlantic liners of the best shipping companies of the globe.

Dixon managed to focus on the slim figure, covered with a 'navy blue' cardigan with golden buttons of his friend.

He drained the grog in one gulp and gave a crack with his tongue. That evening Webb was busy greeting people - members - who hadn't seen each other for months. The atmosphere was electric, a subtle excitement could be felt in the background. Even at the gaming tables there were those who looked around nervously trying to concentrate on the game, but were distracted by the unusual chatter that was heard in the room.

"When the shark arrives, all the pilot fish suddenly reappear" Dixon muttered, trying to keep his spine erect and on those damned seats more and more frequently. He sighed and nodded to the bar boy who started boiling water in the kettle. Dixon's habits were so well known to everyone that anyone who served at the bar knew precisely what his gestures, his grimaces, his jokes meant, even his furtive winks. He slid down heavily from his seat, clutching a new hot prey and exhaling the usual gin-soaked aroma and headed for a table that had two empty seats. A rather elderly lady with masculine features gave him a stiff nod of greeting with an insincere smile that Dixon returned her cordially. The other place was occupied by a dapper mannequin who must have been a hundred years old and looked like one hundred and fifty: he kept shuffling a deck of cards with shaking hands.

"Whist?" he asked.

"Something lighter. I don't want to concentrate too much tonight" Dixon answered and smiled leaning towards him as if to give him a confidence.

"And why of grace?" the other asked, shocked. Dixon chuckled and waved him over.

"We'll see some good ones" he said in a low voice.

"I don't understand" the other said.

"Colonel, you will see, you will see." said Dixon slyly.

"Mr. Dixon always has information that transcends the average knowledge of most of the inhabitants of this country" Colonel Sanders said, addressing the lady.

"Otherwise it wouldn't be Dixon" she said. Then she turned to him: "You are lucky, Alexander. This evening I don't want to play much either''

The colonel snorted: "Then I'll have to find other comrades if I want to do something serious" and, having said that, he got up from the table and staggered over to a group of men who laughed aloud on a sofa nearby.

Suddenly Dixon nodded toward the door to his playmate who turned away. His expression turned into an ironic grin: "Italy honors us with its presence this evening" he said contemptuously.

"That country has great nautical traditions..." muttered Dixon, feigning remorse.

"Country of saints and sailors..." the other replied, descending a king. Dixon frowned and answered with a jack. The triumphant woman picked up the spot and waited for Dixon to make the next move.

The player had placed himself in a strategic position, his face turned towards the door and observed the abundant guest who had just entered, while ceremoniously carrying out the ritual of greetings.

"I wonder if she's ever been on a boat..." the lady asked sharply as she waited for her opponent's move.

"On one of those tubs of theirs... as they call them... the pedaloes..." Dixon said pronouncing the word in Italian and chuckled as he dropped an ace.

"Oh!" Said the surprised woman. "You won this time too" he said, laying down the papers with dignity. The fat adversary spread his hands with condescending grace, then nodded to the waiter uttering a slight whistle that had the effect of attracting the attention of the lady who had just entered.

"Alexaaander" she said in English with an unmistakable Italian accent.

Dixon stood up as she came near him, holding out his hand to her. He took her and showed off an impeccable kiss that made her radiant.

"Can I sit at your table?" he asked while the other looked at her grimly.

"Of course, Madame Lorenzi" Dixon replied, treading his voice on the 'madame' and winking at his playmate who merely smiled sourly and nodded.

"We need one more player" he said, after shuffling the deck.

"I think he's coming in now" Dixon said with a nod to Davis, who was just crossing the threshold at that moment. All eyes instantly turned toward him.

Signora Lorenzi jumped up like a spring and approached Davis, blessed. He bowed stiffly: "Madame Lorenzi. I find you in an excellent shape" he said unconvincingly. Happy for the attention he had aroused about her, this sudden, even if expected, entrance, broke up and showed a little more than the convenience, the pleasure of that meeting.

"We wondered, my husband and I" she said ceremoniously, "what happened to you. We haven't seen you for a long time.''

"I was very busy," Davis replied, handing his walking jacket to the waiter who had been pushed by Webb to him.

"Davis. I'm glad he came to visit us," he said, intruding. Even towards him Davis made an imperceptible bow, then he cut the width of the room with a hard glance.

"Nothing has changed here, has it? It is consoling to know that at least one place on earth can be found as it is left without fear of change... '' he observed and left them both doubting whether he had made a compliment rather than a sharp and not too veiled criticism.

He walked towards the bar, pointing to some greetings here and there and making those he paid attention to happy.

After this entry, life slowly returned and the chatter slowly resumed, even though they were all glimpses and silent appeals to those who had now become the center of attention. Signora Lorenzi did not want to give up and while chatting with a young woman she approached the bar carelessly.

Davis was alone in front of a glass of hot grog. He seemed unhappy and it was not clear if this was his normal attitude or if there was something in that meeting that disgusted or annoyed him. When he saw Dixon, he started toward him, shuffling the cards. Signora Lorenzi quickly preceded him and when she arrived at the table she found herself sitting in the place of the fourth player, drawing a dazzling smile.

Dixon watched him ostentatiously indifferently as he sat down at the table, then waved his glass at him, draining it in a gulp, and said amiably: "A little party, Markus?"

He shielded himself and then said poisonously: "Just don't take it as you did last time..."

Alxander made an amused gesture: "It's the salt of the game. Besides, you too are not really an indifferent player, I think...'' he insinuated. We are even. Davis had little to do with him. Dixon was in that phase of life when the hesitations began to disappear to leave the field to a rough frankness, at times unpleasant but truthful, and all this made it overall more interesting than all the congenies of flatterers that crowded the halls where find those who matter. Davis looked him over for a long time: after all, it was because of what he felt attracted to that drunk fat. From him he knew that he should not expect discounts on his behavior: even if education prevented him from being vulgar, his aggressive irony masked a resentment that made him sincere and all in all reliable. The only flaw was his insatiable curiosity and the inability to hold back the words, two faculties that turned him into an incurable gossip, but that still made him the most reliable source of news of the place, especially in terms of salacity concerning the nice sex.

For his part, Dixon enjoyed that skirmish: finally someone not mediocre with whom to play a level game. Between the two of them it had always been this way, from the beginning: allusions, salacity, winks and even some complicity had made their knowledge stimulating and a source of pleasure for each other. This is why Dixon was waiting for the right moment to give the incoming friend a sign.

Mrs Lorenzi, a little disoriented by all this bustle of intentions and relationships, candidly asked: "What are we playing for?"

She was struck by Davis: "Whist, of course"

"I give my place to someone else," said the other woman, starting to stand up.

"Via Mrs. Turner..." Dixon begged her, "I didn't want anything challenging either, but in similar conditions and with similar players" and he mentioned Davis and Lorenzi"

The woman gave a labored sigh and sat down again.

"Even in Italy the tradition of the whist has imposed itself since the last century" said Signora Lorenzi lightly while taking the papers "Count Cavour in Turin even founded a whist club in 1841"

"Good for him" acid Dixon commented. "Too bad it happened in the last century: I would have liked to have given a resounding blow to that little arrogant trap"

"Didn't you meet him?" asked Davis, laughing.

Signora Lorenzi looked at Dixon who suddenly became purple and did not understand the meaning of that joke: "Markus" he said, "How could he know? It's too much..." Then he realized, blushed and said carelessly. “absolutely...it’s obvious...what a fool I am...'' and she gave a volatile laugh.

Dixon concentrated on the game, he didn't like the joke about his age at all."I wish that goose would followed the game" he thought full of anger when he was forced to play strong in the second round.

"Our hand" said Dixon triumphantly and picked up the cards. Davis couldn't hide his disappointment and looked bored. He would not have won that swollen fat.

The game dragged uncertainly until the end. Then Davis, more fortunately than by skill, scored a pair of hands that settled things definitively in his favor. Dixon resigned himself and lost.

"I hope your luck doesn't affect any more... material fortunes" said Dixon to Davis with a raised eyebrow.

Davis looked at him without understanding. Dixon laughed as he ordered two more grogs: "Luck to the game...."

Signora Lorenzi pricked up her ears. Davis studied that impudence and decided to play along.

"I shouldn't say anything to a talker like you" he began, "but this time, I must admit, I was really busy and didn't have time..."

Dixon, who now had grenade cheeks, overheated by the barrel of grog he had swallowed there, gave a loud laugh and banged his fist on the table, making the two ladies jump.

"Do not tell me that my myth, the brave hunter Davis, is short of breath, pressed by the change in his business"

"It is so" Davis said, "when you can't do what you want" and looked intently at his friend's "you're forced to give up something to achieve some goal..."

"Not you, Markus, not you...." Dixon said, laughing "Not you, Markus, not you..." Dixon said, laughing "You have achieved your goals with a breadth of results which, at least in these parts, they are all now considered legendary."

Davis leaned over in his chair as if to simulate a smug bow: "Master of believing it, Alexander," he added, "but I must confess that I still have something to do in life, I think..."

Dixon nodded in annoyance: "If you consider your success unsatisfactory, then all of us here are failures."

"I didn't say that" Davis said, annoyed "I just said that I don't have, like you, so much time at my disposal"

"But it's been a while, now that you're here, you could devote it to the activities that, at least once you liked...." he sneakily insinuated.

Davis looked at him doubtfully: "I don't really want to get involved in an adventure..."

"Balle" Dixon exploded, causing the two ladies who looked around worried to jump back on the chairs.

Davis looked at him amused: "So, old talkative.. if you tell me this, it means that..."

Dixon looked intently at the two ladies. Mrs. Turner fanned herself with a fan and then said, "I think I'm going to the bar to get me something to drink. What would you favor, dear?'' He concluded, turning to the other woman.

"These men" she said, frivolously, getting up from the table "We'll be joining you soon for the rematch"

"He doesn't want to give up the prey" Dixon thought in an instant.

When they were alone Dixon approached Davis, who stood perfectly indifferent to the table.

"You must know a chick" he said in a low voice.

"Do you always do the pimp?" asked Davis ironically.

"God forbid, no" Dixon drew back "But I think you could…"

"Not this time, Alexander. I don't want any problems "

"There will be no problems. She is single. There are no husbands, lovers ... that is, lovers I don't know ..." Dixon pointed out.

Davis looked at him absently: "I already have too many headaches"

"Problems?" Said Dixon, greedy.

"Complicated things. Not problematic''

"I don't know you anymore, Markus" Dixon laughed.

"Do you always play golf?" Davis asked back.

"Look at the tonnage..." the other answered.

"You're a man who has gained some importance" said Davis, looking at him.

"So are you sure you don't want to meet her?"

"Why are you so insistent?" said Davis suspiciously "What is the deal between you two?"

"Nothing at all. I swear" Dixon said with amusement.

The two ladies returned to the table: ''Are you done with your secrets?'' asked Signora Lorenzi.

"You hurried to the bar. I put more and more on it" said Dixon.

"Everyone knows" Davis nodded to the waiter, then turned to Dixon: "Whiskey?"

"If you pay..." Dixon answered.

"Then where we were" said Davis, shuffling the cards quickly.

"One to zero for you" said Dixon, winking at Davis "but don't count on an easy victory."