Page 152 of The Seven Sisters
‘But you had lots of sisters to keep you company. I don’t have anyone.’ With a sigh of resignation, Valentina stood up and I closed her suitcase and zipped it up.
She watched me as I pulled the suitcase from the bed, tugged out the handle and wheeled it towards the door. ‘There, I think you’re all ready to go.’
‘Will I see you when I get back home, Maia?’ she asked me plaintively. ‘You’re much nicer than Petra; she just spends all her time on the phone talking to her boyfriend.’
‘I hope so,querida, I really do. Now,’ I said as I kissed her, ‘you go off and have a wonderful time.’
‘I will try.’ Valentina took hold of the handle of the case and moved to open the door. ‘Papai really likes you, you know.’
‘Does he?’ I smiled at her.
‘Yes, he told me so himself. Bye bye, Maia.’
I watched her leave the bedroom, and thought how her demeanour resembled that of a modern-day refugee. Not wanting to intrude on the goodbye between father and daughter, or embarrass Floriano in front of his dead wife’s parents, I sat on the bed with my hands in my lap. I thought yet again how difficult it was for the two of them and how much I admired Floriano for juggling his life between his daughter and his work. I also experienced more than a tinge of pleasure at the fact that Valentina had told me her father liked me. And I admitted to myself how much I liked him too.
A few minutes later, Floriano knocked on the door and poked his head around it.
‘It’s okay, you can come out now. I thought you’d accompany Valentina and meet Giovane and Lívia, but you didn’t appear. Anyway,’ he continued, taking my hand and pulling me from the bed, ‘as I said to you over breakfast, I think it’s time you had some fun. Can you remember what that is?’
‘Of course I can!’ I said defensively.
‘Good. Then on the way to where I’m taking you, you can tell me the last fun thing you did.’
‘Floriano, please don’t patronise me!’ I said crossly as I followed him out of the bedroom. He stopped abruptly in the corridor and turned so I almost bumped into him.
‘Maia, please, lighten up, I’m teasing you. Even I, with a propensity for navel-gazing, know that I mustn’t take myself too seriously. You’ve been alone too long, it’s as simple as that. At least I have my daughter to constantly pull me up and out of myself,’ he explained. ‘And just for today, I want you to cast off your woes andlive. Okay?’
I hung my head, feeling awkward and uncomfortable. I realised it was a very long time since I’d last let another human being in close enough to lecture me on my failings.
‘I just want to show youmyRio. I can assure you, I need time out as much as you,’ Floriano added as he opened the front door and ushered me through it.
‘Okay,’ I agreed.
‘Good,’ he said as he marched down the stairs and we arrived at the front door. He offered me the crook of his arm. ‘Shall we?’
‘Yes.’
Floriano led me out of the building and along the streets of Ipanema to a café already buzzing with locals drinking beer.
Floriano said hello to the bartender, who obviously knew him, then ordered us both acaipirinhaas I looked on in shock.
‘It’s only half past eleven in the morning!’ I said as he handed me mine.
‘I know. We are being reckless and debauched beyond belief.’ He nodded sagely. ‘Now,’ he said, clinking his glass against mine, ‘down it in one.’
When we had, and the acidic yet sickly-sweet alcohol had slid down my throat and into my stomach, and I’d thanked God the cake was already in there to soak it up, he paid and pulled me up from my bar stool. ‘Right, we go.’ He hailed a cab and we climbed inside.
‘Where are we going?’
‘I’m taking you to meet a friend of mine,’ he said mysteriously. ‘There’s something you should see before you leave Rio.’
The cab drove us out of the city, and twenty minutes later we alighted at what I realised was the entrance to afavela. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said as he paid the driver, ‘you won’t get shot or offered a gram of cocaine by one of the local drug barons.’ He put an arm around my shoulder and we began the long climb up the steps and into the village. ‘I promise that Ramon, my friend, is as civilised as we are.’
I could already hear the faint throbbing of the surdo drums as we reached the top and entered thefavela. The alleyways were so narrow that I could put my arms out and touch the brick shacks built on either side of them. Down here on the ground it was dark, and I glanced up to see a strange mixture of buildings built on top of the street-level homes.
Floriano followed my eyeline and nodded. ‘The residents on the ground floor sell the space in the air to other families, and they build their homes above,’ he explained as we walked up and up the winding streets.
Even I, who prided myself on the ability to take the heat, found myself sweating profusely and feeling light-headed in the claustrophobic, airless atmosphere. Floriano noticed immediately and at the top of one of the alleyways, stopped and plunged into a dark doorway. Which I realised as I followed him inside was a shop of sorts, albeit just a concrete space with a few shelves holding canned goods and a fridge in the corner. Having paid for a bottle of water, which I drank thirstily, we continued upwards, finally arriving at a brightly painted blue door. Floriano knocked, and immediately a dark-skinned man opened it. I watched as the two men embraced with much playful back-slapping and arm-punching, and we entered the house. I was surprised to see a computer blinking in one corner of the narrow room, and also a big television screen. The room was sparsely furnished but spotlessly clean.
