The Brewer of Preston by Andrea Camilleri Read Free Book Online Page A

stood up and addressed himself to the seven people on stage.
    â€œI beg your pardon, gentlemen, but would you please give me a straight answer? Why are you so happy to be going to work?”
    This time there was a certain confusion on stage. Two of the chorus shaded their eyes with their hands to shield them from the stage lights and looked towards the gallery, but the conductor’s baton immediately called them back to order.
    In the royal box, Bortuzzi, the prefect, noticing that things were taking a bad turn, felt his blood rising. Gesturing angrily to Police Lieutenant Puglisi behind him, he said:
    â€œArrest those hooligans! At once!”
    Puglisi didn’t feel like obeying the order. He knew that the slightest incident might trigger an uprising.
    â€œLook, Your Excellency, I’m sorry, but there’s absolutely no ill will or intention in what they’re doing. They’re not troublemakers. I know every last one of them. They’re good, law-abiding people, believe me. It’s just that they’ve never been in a theatre before and don’t know how to behave.”
    It worked. The prefect, who was drenched in sweat, did not insist.
    Meanwhile, from the left-hand staircase appeared Daniel Robinson, the owner of the brewery. He was even jollier than the others and in the end declared that day a holiday, because he was about to marry a girl named Effy. This news made the others practically faint with joy. Bob intoned:
    â€œWhat better choice to make than she?
    Who more virtuous and pretty?”
    The six clad in aprons once again did not fail to repeat:
    â€œWho more virtuous and pretty?”
    Don Gregorio Smecca could no longer contain himself.
    â€œBah! What a bore! I’m leaving, good night!”
    He stood up and left, leaving his wife in the lurch.
    Meanwhile the people on stage were describing Effy as a “most precious gem” and as the “emblem of love.” And so Daniel Robinson started handing out money to everyone, ordering them to have a big celebration.
    â€œLook for instruments, look all around,
    let flutes, timbals, and horns resound.”
    â€œNo need to look anywhere for horns. They grow all by themselves,” said a voice again from the gallery. A few people laughed.
    â€œBut isn’t a timbal that thing you make for me with rice, meat, and peas?” Dr. Gammacurta asked his wife in all seriousness.
    â€œYes.”
    â€œSo what the hell has it got to do with flutes and horns?”
    At last the theatre fell briefly silent. The workers had all gone off in search of instruments and people to invite to the celebration. Daniel Robinson, though there was nobody beside him, started gesturing mysteriously towards Bob as if wanting to tell him a secret. Bob drew near, and the boss revealed to him that before the day was over, his own twin brother, George, who hadn’t been seen in those parts for two years, would arrive. George was a military man and not a very peaceable sort. Bob looked doubtful.
    â€œAnd he’s coming here?”
    Daniel turned pensive then replied:
    â€œI hope so,with his unpleasant vocation
    of living by the balls . . .”
    Hearing of the twin brother George’s rather peculiar job, the male contingent of the audience held its collective breath. Some thought they hadn’t understood correctly and sought clarification from the person beside them. Daniel, as the music required, repeated the declaration of his brother’s occupation in a higher register:
    â€œWith his unpleasant vocation
    of living by the balls . . .”
    This time the laughter burst out immediately, spanning the entire hall from rows A to U and featuring throat-rasping chortles, sneezing guffaws, gurgling giggles, smothered hiccups, starting motors, piglike squeals, and other similar manners of laughing. And, as a result, the sung explanation of George’s odd vocation was completely lost.
    â€œ. . . of