Goliarda Sapienza - The Art of Joy

I drew the curtains. I had to be careful. As I had foreseen, her voice had become garrulous and droning, a sign that listlessness and despondency were taking hold of her. Soon she would start wandering aimlessly through the rooms again, like the time after Carlo had gone. I wouldn’t be able to stand it a second time, seeing that little face grow so thin overnight — how was it possible? — as if she had been fasting for days and days.

‘Come, Beatrice; look at this wonderful breakfast! There’s even orange marmalade with bits of rind in it, the way you like it … No, not for me. All I want is coffee.’

‘Why only coffee? You’re making me eat alone. At least have some bread and butter. It makes me sad to eat alone, uffa !’

‘Oh, all right. Look at the big slice I’m buttering, okay?’

I couldn’t take it. Another ten minutes and I would throw her out the window.

‘Modesta, I’ve thought about it, you know?’

‘Thought about what?’

‘Well … about Carlo. Of course what he did last night is unacceptable … behavior unacceptable in a gentleman, but … I … I must be honest with you, Modesta: I love him.’

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Was it possible that everything was resolved so quickly?

‘I love him very much. And although I know that Nonna Gaia would never, ever forgive me if I left you … you who have sacrificed so much for us — plus I’m lame and…’

I had never heard her talk so much about something that concerned her personally. As she spoke, her features became animated and she seemed pretty again. Of course, if that creature growing in my belly was a girl, she would be pretty, too. A little girl, slender and elegant like Carlo … I looked away from those large, ever more luminous eyes, which drew me like the depths of the sea, and staring into the distant depths of my future, I read that my languor would be a boy born of Beatrice and Carlo. No, I did not want that child. I admired Carlo, but a baby by him was another matter.

‘Won’t you say something, Modesta? Do you think that this, too, would be impossible?’

‘Forgive me, Beatrice, I was distracted. Yesterday I didn’t get anything done all day, and today I have twice as much work to do. I’m sorry — what were you saying?’

‘Yes, of course, I know you have a lot on your mind. I’m the one who should be sorry. I was saying that we could, or rather that you could talk to Carlo and let him know how things stand, and we could remain friends. Or do you think what he did was too serious?’

‘No, of course not. It’s nothing serious. Times change, Beatrice, and if he kissed you…’

‘Oh, don’t say that word!’

‘All right. But if he did what he did, I’m sure it was because he loves you and not because he’s a despicable, immoral man, as Nonna Gaia would say. I’m certain of it. Carlo is an honourable man, Beatrice. He’s a doctor, intelligent, a hard worker, and if he wanted you to be his…’

‘Oh, no, Modesta, no!’

‘Why not, if you love him?’

‘You know why not! Because I can’t! Besides, he’s not of the nobility. What would they say in Catania…’

‘So let’s shock them yet again, as Uncle Jacopo always tells us. In fact, it will be amusing to see them scandalized, like when we run into them at the Opera. Remember the comical, bewildered expressions on their faces? They don’t know whether to look at us, whether they should greet us. Remember how we laughed, those first times with Carlo?’

‘Oh, yes, it’s true. Then they got used to it. So you’ll talk to Carlo, won’t you? Talk to him … but just friendship, you must insist on that — just friends. Make him come back, Modesta.’

‘Of course, Beatrice. I’ll speak to Carlo. Though I’m sure, as Uncle Jacopo once said — do you remember?’

‘No, what did he say?’

‘He said: “Even our Beatrice will find a man who is worthy of her.”’

‘Oh, that’s right! He said it at Carmelo, but I was so little then! I had forgotten, it’s been so long. You have such a good memory. What did he say exactly? Tell me, Modesta, tell me…’

* * *

‘Listen, Inès. We’ve been talking about this for two hours and I’m very tired. Time is running short, and if, as the doctor said … at least you could have kept count of the months, couldn’t you? Your mothers really don’t teach you anything!’

‘I’m an orphan, Princess.’

‘All right, all right. If, as the doctor says, you’re approaching the fifth month, it can be risky to terminate the pregnancy. You must make up your mind. It’s ten o’clock, and at noon I have a business meeting down in Catania. I have a dinner engagement as well, and I don’t know if we’ll be able to see each other tomorrow, because if the dinner runs late I’ll stay over and spend the night at Attorney Santangelo’s.’

‘Oh, Princess, I don’t know what to do! I’m afraid, I’m so afraid! In the convent I heard terrible things both about giving birth and about having an abortion, and I can’t make up my mind.’

‘Women’s prattle, Inès. Be rational. Times have changed. With a good doctor and effective anaesthesia, abortion is child’s play. As far as childbirth, all women give birth. I, too, gave birth, didn’t I? And here I am, alive and well, aren’t I?’

‘Oh, of course, Princess.’

‘I repeat that you will be appropriately assisted, whether or not you decide to have this child. But remember that if you don’t have it, you’ll be committing a sin.’

‘I’ve already sinned!’

Incredible, those godly little souls! They tossed the word ‘sin’ around and caught it like jugglers at the circus with their buoyant white balls. If the doctor weren’t waiting for me, it would have been fun to watch those little balls in continuous motion. Sins that bounced from her delicate hands to her head, chest and arms and then returned obediently to the small open palms of Signorina Inès: an orphan, born in Acireale, who somehow ended up in a convent boarding school in Turin.

‘And you’d like to add a mortal sin to another mortal sin? What’s more, I think that, weighing one fear against the other, fear of childbirth is better. Be reasonable, hold on to this pure, spotless fear and follow God’s will. Keep in mind that abortion is something monstrous for both body and soul.’

Just look at what Signorina Inès had me saying! On the other hand, I couldn’t do otherwise. As Carlo had said, without knowing the number of months, the woman could die under the surgeon’s knife.

‘Oh, Princess, you are truly a true Christian! I, instead, I … even the Mother Superior used to tell me all the time: I’m not a good person. Even though I pray, I’m always praying, I’m unable to be…’

‘Then trust me.’

‘Of course, of course, like I trusted Mother Antonia, of course!’

‘All right. Go then, and may God help you, child. No, no hand kissing, now go. I’m late.’

Despite the desk, which even in my sleep I now put between me and Signorina Inès, she was always trying to touch me. I stood up quickly so she wouldn’t come close, and finally saw her move stiffly toward the door. Her hand was already on the doorknob, white and smooth as her skin, when she turned around uncertainly:

‘And … about the annuity, Princess … it shames me, but I am an orphan and you promised…’

‘It’s all settled, Inès. It wasn’t an empty promise. Tomorrow you will go to Catania with Pietro to see Attorney Santangelo. He will have you read and sign a document concerning the little house and the annuity and the paragraph of my will that concerns you, should complications arise in the future.’

‘Oh, your will too. May you never…’