Page 33 of The Seven Sisters
‘That’s what I’m going to do today,’ I announced to myself.
Suddenly realising I had no idea where I was or how far I’d strayed from the hotel, I simply followed the sound of the waves, and, like a homing pigeon which already had a map of the area imprinted upon it, I eventually found my way back.
I ate breakfast upstairs on the terrace, and, for the first time since Pa had died, found myself with an appetite. Arriving back in my room, I saw there were a number of messages on my mobile. I took the decision to ignore them, not wanting any form of reality to spoil the exhilaration I’d felt so far this morning. However, I did see an email in my inbox, the sender of which attracted my attention. It was from Floriano Quintelas.
My dear Senhorita D’Aplièse,
My publisher has told me the surprise that you are here in Rio. It would be my pleasure to meet with you in person and perhaps to take you to dinner or lunch to say thank you for your translation work on my book. My French publishers have high hopes that it will sell very well. Or perhaps you simply wish to see my beautiful city through a truecarioca’seyes. My mobile phone number is at the bottom of this email. And if I am honest, I would be most offended if you did not contact me during your stay.
I am at your disposal.
With kind regards,
Floriano Quintelas
The email made me chuckle; due to our various communications over the past year aboutThe Silent Waterfall, I had already gleaned he did not like to waste words unnecessarily.
So,I thought,would he contact me if he was in Geneva, and I’d offered to show him the city?
And would I be offended if he did not?
The answer to both questions was yes.
I decided the best and most passive way to contact him was by text. I’m not sure how many minutes I spent composing it, then editing and rewriting, but finally I was happy with it and pressed ‘send’.
The moment it had gone, I of course reread it.
Dear Floriano, I am delighted to be here in Rio and it would be nice –I’d deleted ‘a pleasure’– to meet up at some point. I’m going up to Corcovado now to play the tourist, but you can contact me on this number. With best wishes, Maia D’Aplièse.
Satisfied that I had managed to convey warmth and distance at the same time – I was a writer too, after all – I went to visit the concierge in the hotel lobby to discover how I could travel up to seeChrist the Redeemer.
‘Senhorita, we can offer you either the luxury or the real experience, the latter being the one I would personally advocate,’ the concierge told me. ‘Take a street taxi to Cosme Velho – tell them you’re going to visit theCristo– and then take the train up Corcovado Mountain.’
‘Thank you.’
‘My pleasure.’
Ten minutes later, I was in a taxi on my way to Cosme Velho and theCristo. My mobile rang in my bag and I answered, seeing it was Floriano Quintelas.
‘Hello?’
‘Senhorita D’Aplièse?’
‘Yes.’
‘It’s Floriano here. Where are you?’
‘In a taxi on my way to see theCristo. I’m just near the train station now.’
‘May I join you?’
I hesitated and he heard it.
‘If you prefer to visit alone, I understand.’
‘No, of course. I’d be glad of a local’s guidance.’
‘Well, why don’t you take the train up the mountain and I’ll meet you by the stairs at the top?’
