Me and You by Niccolò Ammaniti Read Free Book Online Page B

cold. It must be minus five out here. I don’t know where the fuck to go. I’m asking you a favour.’
    ‘I’m sorry.’
    ‘You know what? You’re your father’s son.’
    ‘Our father,’ I corrected.
    She pulled out a packet of Marlboro and lit one. ‘Can you explain to me why I can’t stay here tonight? What’s the problem?’
    What should I say to her? I was getting really angry. I could feel it pushing up against my diaphragm. ‘You’ll mess everything up. There isn’t any room. It’s dangerous.
I’m here undercover. I can’t open the door for you. Go somewhere else. In fact, I’ve got an idea. Ring the buzzer upstairs. They’ll put you up in the guest room.
You’ll be much more comfortable . . .’
    ‘I’d rather sleep on a park bench in Villa Borghese than sleep with those two tossers.’
    Who did she think she was? What had Dad done to deserve such a daughter? I kicked the wall. ‘Please . . . I’m begging you . . . everything is just perfect in here. I’ve
organised everything and now you arrive and mess it all up . . .’ I realised I had started to whine and I hated whining.
    ‘All right . . . What’s your name? Lorenzo. Lorenzo, listen carefully. I’ve been good to you. This morning you asked me not to say anything and I didn’t say anything. I
didn’t ask you anything. I don’t want to know. That’s your business. I am asking you a favour. If you come out for just a moment and open the main door I’ll come in. Nobody
will see us.’
    ‘No. I swore I wouldn’t come out.’
    She looked at me. ‘Who did you swear that to?’
    ‘To myself.’
    She took a drag of her cigarette. ‘Fine. You know what I’ll do? I’ll start ringing the buzzer and I’ll tell them you’re down in the cellar. What do you think of
that?’
    ‘You wouldn’t . . .’
    A smug little smile came appeared on her face. ‘You don’t think so? You don’t know me . . .’ She moved towards the middle of the garden and in a fairly loud voice said,
‘Listen up, everyone! Can you hear me? A boy is hiding in the cellar. It’s Lorenzo Cuni, who’s pretending to be away on ski week . . . Hello . . .’
    I threw my arms against the bars and I begged, ‘Shut up! Shut up, please.’
    She looked at me in amusement. ‘So, are you going to let me in or do I have to wake up the whole building?’
    I couldn’t believe how sly she was. She’d completely fucked me over. ‘All right, but you have to leave tomorrow morning. Promise?’
    ‘I promise.’
    ‘I’m coming. Go round to the main door.’
    I ran out in such a rush that I only noticed when I was halfway along the corridor that I wasn’t wearing shoes. I had to be super-quick. Luckily it was late. My parents were often out in
the evening, but not until three in the morning.
    Imagine if when I open the main door I run straight into my parents on their way in. I would look so stupid, I thought as I jumped up the stairs two at a time and dodged past the porter’s
flat. At night there was no need to worry about the Silver Monkey. His wasn’t sleep but a sort of hibernation, he’d explained to me, and his disrupted sleeping pattern was all the fault
of the gypsies. One night, about three years ago, they had entered his house and sprayed an anaesthetic in his face. With all the houses nearby full of money, paintings and jewellery those morons
had broken into the Silver Monkey’s flat. They took a pair of binoculars and a radio. Anyway, the poor guy had slept for three days straight. They hadn’t even been able to keep him
awake in the hospital emergency ward. He explained to me that since that night he always felt sleepy and when he did go to bed he slept so deeply that ‘if an earthquake hits, I’m
fucked. What the hell did those gypsy bastards spray me with?’
    I crossed the foyer. The marble was cold beneath my feet.
    I opened the main door and she was standing there, waiting for me.
    ‘Thanks, little brother,’ she said.

 
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    Olivia