Page 22 of The Dolce Vita Divas
‘Have fun?’ I said. ‘My mother always said that when she got old she was just going to get into mischief. And I didn’t really know what she meant, but just recently, I have been thinking I may well do the same.’
Ceci’s face brightened. ‘Yes. I like the sound of that.’
She finished her Prosecco, looked at the empty glass and put it down on the table with a grimace.
‘I shouldn’t drink this,mi rende scontrosa.’
Susie murmured, ‘She says it makes her grumpy.’
‘It’s a bit late to tell us that now,’ I muttered back.
‘So, what will you do while you are here?’ Ceci said. ‘The event is the day after tomorrow. Ellen said it was not to be a sad occasion. She wanted a small funeral, and then a time later on, when people could remember her with joy, not tears.Non sarà così– it willnotbe like that for me. When I go I want the whole island to be there, lining the streets as my coffin passes, weeping and wailing and telling each other how wonderful I was. Everyone will wear black and there will be white flowers filling every balcony and vase. I’ve written it in my will.’
‘I expect that will be quite an event,’ I said.
Ceci smiled and leaned forward to pat my hand.
‘Oh, you must come,’ she said, ‘you’ll enjoy it. I’ve been to so many funerals and they aresono insoddifacenti– unsatisfactory. These days there is far too much reserve, too much bravery when someone dies. We need to mourn properly and then the grief is gone, leaving only the memories.’
‘Please don’t die any time soon,’ I said, ‘just so we can come to another party.’
Ceci threw back her head and laughed, and her diamond earrings sparkled in the sunshine.
‘I am in my eighties. How much longer do you think I have? Now then, back to now. What were we talking about?’
‘What are the arrangements for the event?’ Susie asked.
‘You’ll have to ask Paulo. I can’t remember,’ Ceci said, scraping up the last of her tiramisu, while Freddy watched her with the sad eyes of a spaniel. ‘But I do know there is going to be a lunch and then just an informal gathering in the evening. I do not stay up late any longer. I need all the beauty sleep I can get. You must wear your best, most glamorous, most colourful outfits, if only to please me.’
Susie and I looked at each other, obviously thinking the same thing. After a lot of phone calls and discussion, we had both packed something smart: black dresses and jackets. Dark tights and sensible shoes. Nothing glamorous or colourful.
‘I’m not sure…’ Susie said.
‘I have a dark dress,’ I added. ‘It does have sleeves. I don’t think I will need the jacket in this heat.’
Ceci picked up her empty glass, looked at it and put it down again.
‘Well,ovviamente– obviously you can’t come like that,’ she said at last, with a nod towards our outfits.
I thought we looked okay, actually. Quite presentable.
‘Oh, I don’t know, darling, they look charming to me,’ Freddy said kindly.
‘Freddy, every woman over twenty-one looks charming to you,’ Ceci said, rolling her eyes.
‘But none as beautiful as my wife,’ he responded gallantly.
‘What sort of thing did you have in mind?’ I said. ‘Perhaps we should go shopping.’
I said this quickly, trying not to remember that we had not seen any shops other than high end designer boutiques and famous labels as we drove through the town. I didn’t think my budget would stretch to those unless they were prepared to sell me a glossy carrier bag.
‘I’m sure something can be arranged. For young women like you, it’s much easier. It’s the shoes I have trouble with. Back then I could dance all night in stilettos. These days, I wear them only to sit down in. Freddy calls them my barstool shoes. In an ideal world I would be carried from my car in a litter.Sono stanco adesso,I’m tired. I will go to my rooms now,’ Ceci said.
She stood up and tapped Freddy on the shoulder as he looked as though he was nodding off again, and then as he reached behind his chair for his walking stick, she waved a hand to catch the attention of a silver-haired, very distinguished-looking man who was standing a little way away, talking to another dark-haired chap who could have been, but probably wasn’t, a Mafia Don.
‘Raimondo. To me if you please.’
Raimondo put his glass down and offered Ceci his arm.
