The Substitute - Book 2. Chapter 7 - First Part

Chapter 7

Guntram de Lisle's diary

January 8th, 2009

I signed the papers for the flat with Goran at a notary's office that Nicholas Lefebvre recommended in Zurich. All was supervised by Michel Lacroix personally and I still feel bad that he went through so much trouble for me. I mean, I'm nobody compared to the big fishes he caters for. He didn't want to take a single penny from me and I know he charges you several thousands just to see your face, if at all. He only told me: “send me a picture like the ones you had in Berlin, in the second floor, but it's really unnecessary. Your father already paid us years ago.”

And Konrad tells that there are no selfless people in this world.

Anyway, we met at the notary's office and Goran and Nicholas glared at each other the whole time. For the first time in my life, I saw Goran wearing a small ring with a cross exactly like the one I received for my baptism. Nicholas was no better and carried his own seal in his right hand. It was not the usual compass and square but a nice beehive with oak leaves and acorns around. I suppose it's because bees are the best constructors in the world. While the notary was reading aloud the documents, and I was doing my best to ignore them, I dreaded they would jump at each other. I don't know what is their problem. One is Catholic and the other doesn't believe in God, but those are no grounds to automatically hate each other.

When we finished and I had given the notary the papers proving that the transfer had been done, hell broke loose.

“So we are finished. Come Guntram,” Goran ordered me without looking at Nicholas' direction.

“Send the Griffin my greetings and tell him that we will see each other in the battlefield.”

“I doubt it; your kind hides in the shadows,” Goran said in a tone I never heard him use and my blood froze. “We need fire to get the rats out from the foundations of our Lord's House.”

“So thus speak the masters of deception,” Nicholas smirked. “Nice words but useless in the end.”

Goran just looked at him and I feared for Nicholas' life. He's just a lawyer and Goran is... Goran. I mean, I know the story of he, Milan and Ratko taking over a full gang of crazy Neonazis in Charlottenburg because they were crazy enough as to make fun of Milan's accent in German and shouted something like “monkeys should go back to the jungle”. One of them had the poor idea of pushing the immigrant (Goran). As it was just a “friendly warning”, the Nazis ended in the hospital with different cuts, broken bones and contusions. The sixteen of them. Milan, Ratko and Goran suffered not a single scratch and the Russians that drink beer in that place in Berlin had a good show.

I touched Goran's elbow and asked him softly to come with me and he visibly relaxed his stance. I shook hands with Nicholas and said goodbye to him.

In the car I got the lecture that I should have never spoken with this man and I should be a good boy and cease all contacts with them. “I'm going to check how deep was your father's entanglement with these Satan worshippers” (sic, I swear)

To be honest, I let him rant and thought about the walls colours. I doubt between a nice old ivory or beige. Yes, I'm dull, that was what I had when I was in Argentina. I believe my grandmother's furnitures are stored somewhere in the castle. The bed, table, chairs and cabinet looked very good. I have to ask Friederich.

Masonic Templars vs. Catholic Crusaders is not my war.

“Guntram, hear me well because you are the Tutor. No further contacts with them. Your reputation and loyalty to the Church should be unquestionable. Is that clear? Don't be a part of our war but respect and abide our laws.” Goran told me and I was shocked. “Your position depends on this. You should better start to learn our ways with Mirko Bregovic.”

“He has given me several books to read.”

“Have you?”

“What?”

“Read them!”

“Yes, of course! I have to live with him on a permanent basis! They were good, St. Therèse de Lisieux Works and St. Marie Faustine Kowalska and the creation of the image of the Merciful Jesus. Gave me several ideas to think about.”

“Good.”

“Should we not turn the other cheek?”

“Never when God's House is stained, Guntram.” He parked inside of his own building and gave me the flat keys. “Go ahead and check if everything is to your liking. Holgersen will come later. Take him to the IKEA. It will be good for his Highness.”

I left the car and I felt again that special void you have when you're looking down from a cliff and fight the desire to jump. I was once more on my own. Just like when I left the school in 2000. This time my friends Juan, Coco or Mariano wouldn't be here to help me.

Instead I would get Heindrik Holgersen Wallenberg.

Terrifying thought.

I took the elevator to the 5^th floor and fought a bit with the keys and entered. My first flat had been shabby and dark, nothing that could compare to the sunny, ample windows that overlook the shinning waters.

The place was bare but I noticed that it was clean and painted in ivory white, the same colour Goran has in his own flat. I walked around the empty spaces and the sound of my footsteps caused me a headache. I had to sit on the large bathtub and fix my eyes on the intricate tiles' pattern.

Then it hit me. How much I had changed in exactly seven years. From penniless and idealist student to young graduate from a prestigious university and relatively successful artist. I mean, I can make an exhibition and sell my pieces. Not many have that fortune. From drinking a beer or a cola with the boys to having dinner with powerful people. From having less than 14.000 dollars in an useless bank account to owning a large flat in one of the best areas of Zurich and still have 1,2 million euros in the bank.

I never wanted so much or expected to have it. I had to go to the kitchen and lean against the marble counter top to stop the dizzy feeling. I drank some water, using my hands as cup, as I had no glasses, exactly as in my first flat. I don't know why but I needed to speak with someone. I used to have a thicker skin against loneliness but it has worn off with the years.

Even if I know this is strictly forbidden, I needed to speak with someone who will not look at me as the bloody Griffin's Consort. Someone who could hear me freely and I don't know why I dialled Lacroix's number. It's strange and I don't know why I did, but I wanted to speak with him and thank him because I had this because he wanted to give it to me. I dialled his number and he answered relatively soon with his brief “Lacroix” whispered.

“Hello, Mr. Lacroix. I'm Guntram de Lisle. Is it a good time to speak with you, sir?”

“Hello, Guntram. It's nice to hear from you. Of course I can speak with you. Are you all right?”

“I wanted to thank you, sir. I just finished to sign the papers.”

“Yes, Nicholas just phoned me.”

“Please, offer him my excuses. I never wanted things to go so...”

“Bad? Don't worry. A small dialectic battle is nothing for him.”

“I'm supposed to look for another lawyer, sir.”

“Why so?”

“His views are not like ours and I should look for somebody from my own entourage.”

“Guntram, you don't have to do all what Lintorff tells you to.”

“I know, but I should obey him in this. I hate to do it. Nicholas is a very good friend.”

“You're old enough as to know what's best for you, Guntram. You are an independent person, not an extension of Lintorff's will.”

“I know but I do want to live again with him.”

“And why do you buy a flat?”

“I'm not certain this will work at all. I've changed over the years and I need something different. He was great for me, and I love him, but he doesn't seem to understand that I'm a person of my own.”

“You lived with him since you were very young and took many responsibilities that most youth don't even hear of. At twenty-one years old you became an foster parent and I believe that you're willing to sacrifice your own life for those children. Guntram, you're just twenty-six years old, but you live as if you were sixty.”

“I have a heart condition, sir. I can't do much or be under too much stress. The children make me happy.”

“What about your other projects? What did you want to do when you left school? What were your plans before you met this man?”

“That's so long ago that I've forgotten them. Those were childish dreams and I could have never carried them out. I consider myself lucky that I can paint and that's what I love the most.”

“Is your art so important to you?”

“Like breathing. When I was a child, things were hard for me and drawing was my way to escape. I could be absorbed by it and forget the world. Everybody in the school knew that the best way to get Guntram to make your Maths homework was to give him a new pencil.”

“If you love Lintorff, why did you have an affair with this other man?”

“With Constantin? I don't know. I loved him also, but in a different way, not like I love Konrad. Constantin Repin was a good friend and he understood me better than any other man I knew. He was not the person I was told he was and supported me as an artist. He passed away last December.”

“I'm sorry to hear this. Was he sick or a car accident?”

I would have preferred to keep this to myself, but in a way Lacroix seemed someone you could trust. Funny, but I felt fine around him. “He was stabbed.” I said curtly.

“I see. Guntram, regarding your lawyer, and I'm not saying this to keep a customer,” (He made me laugh at that sentence) “you have to decide what is best for you by yourself. Finally, it's you the one who serves time and not the others,” he added comically.

“Konrad distrusts Nicholas because he's not Catholic like us,” I confessed.

“And you? Do you distrust him because he's a Mason?”

“Religion has nothing to do if you're a good or bad person and Nicholas has been a great friend. I find all this absolutely nonsense but I can't endure more troubles with Konrad.”

“Well, I was raised a Catholic in that case. I'm no Mason as if I were one, I would expelled from our Church. I share many of their views but I don't consider us to be so enlightened as to define a single idea of God, Guntram. I wouldn't mind to have you among my clients and your interests would be well represented.”

“Mr. Lacroix you have already done so much for me.”

“Say yes and Nicholas will not be so upset. What he does with his private life after five is not my concern.”

“I don't want to impose myself on you, sir. I just wanted to thank you for all what you have done for me. Perhaps you could consider to have lunch with me one day in Geneva or Brussels.”

“My agenda is well covered till next April, Guntram, but I would like to meet you if you come to Brussels one day,” he told me very softly. “I could be bribed with one of your paintings though,” he added and I laughed. All right, lunch time is when lawyers fish for clients. Sacred time for all of them.

“I thought that Nicholas had shared the two I sent him, but I will choose something for you, Mr. Lacroix.”

“Thank you and please call me Michel, Guntram. Good bye and we will be in touch.”

I smiled and thought that he's not the hedgehog Nicholas tells he's. A bit on the bossy side, yes, but seems to be a nice person. I heard the bell and went to open it, thinking that it might be Goran to check I had not installed a Master Stereo Surround Sound.

“Don't you ever check the door, Guntram? Rule number one in security!” huffed Sweet Heindrik when I opened the door. “Get a butler if you can't remember such a basic thing.”

Now I see why the guys call him “the prince” and it has nothing to do with Machiavelli. Was he really in the Navy? They're down to earth people there.

“Hi, Heindrik. Ready to resume your chauffeur duties?” I answered him, a bit irked that he was entering the place as if he were the owner.

“Yes, I'm supposed to teach you some good manners and taste. Pity, it has recently been painted.”

“Goran was very kind as to do it before I move in.”

“And he covered the frescoes! I wanted to see them!” good old Heindrik groaned.

“Frescoes?”

“Don't you know? This place was the infamous Bijou's workplace.” Heindrik told me very surprised and winked at me. “Even my grandfather visited her.”

“Who?”

“A well known “actress” and dancer.” I could hear the quotation marks over the word. “She retired a century ago and passed away two or three years ago. I offered Goran to buy the flat for myself, but he kicked me out even if I was willing to pay twice as much as the market price. The views and the building are fantastic. Unique.”

“Impossible! Goran bought it not even six months ago!”

“Bijou was the mistress of the old Mladic Pavicevic and he gave her the flat for her retirement. Half of it belonged to Goran's father, therefore it's his. When she died, it was closed for some time, till old Pavicevic decided to rent it and Goran bought his share when he had enough. The things this place has seen! Even the Duke's father was visiting her, according to my grandfather. I wanted to see the frescoes, but they're gone. She had the whole Pompeii Villa of the Mysteries painted on the dinning room. Hetaera were an incredible invention for mankind. There are no women like her left! Bijou was old Pavicevic's favourite girlfriend and I guess he continued to support her after her charms faded.”

“But Goran sold it to me for the price he paid!”

“He loves you, Guntram, but we know that already.” Heindrik shrugged. “He kicked me out before I could finish my offer. If you want to sell at some point, remember me.”

“I have to speak with him.”

“Don't bother. This is nothing for his finances. He has several hundred millions hidden somewhere and never spends a dime. Now, where do I have to take you?”

“IKEA.” I said and he laughed at my face almost to the point of tears. “Do you know where it is?”

“Of course I do, but you're pulling my legs,” he told me but somehow he sounded a bit alarmed.

“Not at all. Goran recommended it and told me it's a Swedish store so I should take you with me to help me.”

“No way!”

“Why not? It's Swedish!”

“I'm not entering in a discount store, Guntram!”

“I thought it was a designer store, something posh or intellectual like Ingmar Bergman.”

“It's a nightmare. It's like a supermarket for cheap furniture you have to put together by yourself! You have to pick up the things by yourself! It's for ordinary people.”

“Sounds better than I thought. Let's take a look.”

“No way you go in there! You would drool over the first ecological sign you see or worse, think that this is for the working class and be delighted to be there!”

“I need furniture. I don't have much left from Buenos Aires. Those were from my grandmother's and I would like something more modern.”

“I remember your furniture, those were very good antiquities! Something worthy of being here. IKEA here is like a sacrilege. Bijou's ghost will come back from her grave if you put something that's not made of solid wood. The president of that company always travels economy class!” he shouted like a little girl.

“We'll go tomorrow, Heindrik. We meet here.” I said and he huffed. “Come on, I'm not asking to go to Iraq!”

“It's far worse.” He told me very sombre.

* * *

I didn't remember how much stress  a moving could be and I'm not even “moving out”. This morning, Friederich told me that my old furnitures will be taken to the new flat in the afternoon and that he considered them to be in good shape and my old chairs were already sent to be upholstered with a similar fabric. He also said that he would drive with me to see the flat and help me to make a list of what I might need.

At least someone wants to help because Konrad didn't call me at all from London. He's not happy about the purchase. I don't know what's wrong with him. Honestly. I was not expecting him to throw me a welcome party, but at least he could have said something like “I'm glad you're standing on your own”.

I will pack most of my painting things so I work in the new flat. The boys are very excited about the flat and I promised to take them to see it in the afternoon.

My flat is very big and now I'm realising how difficult it will be to fill it. A large foyer with great windows overlooking the water that sends you to the right where is the old “gentlemen room” (sic, and Friederich knows what is that) from where you pass to the living room and then to the dining room all of them with good windows. The living room is about 50 square metres. The dining room connects with a large corridor with the kitchen an a small service area, and this corridor takes you to the one guest bedroom and the master suite, next to the small studio that is beside the foyer. The house is like a big square ring and about 240 square metres. The private rooms have a view to the city or to the arboretum. I think the boys could use the guest room with inside bathroom and I the master bedroom if Konrad wants to visit me. I'll have to ask Friederich where he buys the linens because I don't think he will sleep in something “inappropriate” for his status.

Friederich drove with me and with him in charge, everything ran smoothly, unlike my first flat. Well, they're Swiss and not Argentineans. He inspected the flat as a general would review the troops.

“Guntram, my child, I doubt very much that you can use something from the IKEA here. This is a very old property. Your furniture is fine and I think that the table could go to the study or use it completely open in the dinning room as it's small for such a large stance. Either you make a complete renovation and remove all the mouldings and make the walls flat or you respect the original style.”

“It will be very expensive, Friederich.”

“Not as much as you believe. Buy in the IKEA the children's bedroom as it's not necessary to spend much there, just a few things where they can keep some toys if the come here for a few hours after school. Buy also there what you might need for the kitchen, bathrooms and your studio. I think you could make it in the “gentlemen room”. It's very luminous and has a good overview. I will help you with the providers. I know many antiquarians who will make you a nice price. Some very good pieces cost less than what they ask for something imported from Asia.”

“Maybe you're right.”

“The boisserie in the studio is in perfect conditions. It would be a real shame to waste it. You would only need a good desk and chairs for it.”

At two we had finished (well Friederich had finished to tell me all what I should do. I mean he even had a shopping list for the kitchen and linens ready for me!!) In the meantime, Elisabetta von Lintorff, Konrad's aunt, phoned me and told me that going to IKEA was a “delightful idea” and that she would accompany me to help me with the choosing tomorrow. “It's absolutely nonsense to buy expensive things for the children. They need something that can withstand their attacks.”

Heindrik still does not believe that she offered herself to come with us.

I'm reading Friederich's list and checking the IKEA webpage just to make a preliminary budget. I'm already having cold sweats at the figures. I'm so glad kitchen and bathrooms are already done because that could be a huge hit to my finances.

I have an appointment for one of Friederich's providers in two days more and he had already sent me several suggestions and prices. But I'm guilty because the dinning table with eight chairs I liked so much costs 6.000 francs and comes from Munich (XVIII) and the cherry tree bed king size is about 4.700, but I'll pass. I saw another with leather headboard for 2.000 and that's less.

I'm as posh as Heindrik because I liked the store he recommended me and the prices were not so outrageous as I originally estimated.

Konrad has not even called me. I don't know if he's pissed off because of the purchase, because I told him that I will keep Lacroix as lawyer (by sheer miracle he didn't ask for the man's certificate of baptism) or because I didn't ask for his opinion. He's still in London and only wrote an SMS: “Delayed by meetings. Return in 6 days. K.”

* * *

In the morning, a very sombre (as if he were in death row) Heindrik met me at the new flat. Goran was already there, checking some security things (don't know what, he didn't want to explain) with Mirko and speaking in their own language. I tried to speak about the house price, but he almost sent me to Hell and reminded me of the “no parties or music” rule. I guess the original contract remains no matter if I'm the owner and I don't want him calling “the pest controller”.

Elisabetta arrived at 10:30 a.m. dressed with a simple jersey and trousers (never saw her wearing them before) ready for the “adventure”. I was very nervous to have her around in this flat because after all it was Bijou's former “love nest” and if Karl Heinz von Lintorff was around, her former husband, Hermann von Lintorff, Konrad's “uncle” -well, cousin of his father, but the Lintorff have solved the problem of inbreed degrees by calling “cousin” all what is around their age and “uncle” to everyone who's old enough as to be a parent- may have also been doing business here.

I almost had the final heart attack when she went to the dinning room -passing by the fumoir (gentlemen room) at full speed- and looking very disappointed to find it newly painted.

“Oh, the frescoes are away. I've heard so many stories about them! Can you believe that Oskar -he was Tita's husband, you didn't get to meet him, dear-, told her that he was coming here to save the trip to Pompeii? Men can be so childish!” She told me laughing and my heart ratio went to new heights.

“I bought it already painted. Perhaps the previous tenants changed it. Should I show you the kitchen?”

She laughed at my face. “Dear, everyone knows who lived here! Tita wants to visit it too! The views are fantastic and properties of this quality are very rare to find. I'm so glad you have it! I know what I'm going to give you as present for it. ”

“Really Elisabetta, you shouldn't.” I started but she cut me off with a “Nonsense! I missed two or three of your birthdays! We need to restore some of the original flame to this place! I'm most upset with Mr. Pavicevic for changing it! Not all of us want to live in a monastery as he does.”

“I don't know if I could live with the those frescoes.”

“The legend said that in her bedroom there were reproductions of the erotic frescoes.” She whispered in my ear and I blushed.

“I know nothing of the sort.”

“Pity, I saw the originals in the Archaeological Museum in Naples when I was much younger. Don't look so shocked, Guntram. I was with Carolina and we took Pater Bruno with us.”

I would have never imagined our Pater Bruno in such a place. I mean, I know they're in a separate room and you have to register for a visit. “I was never in Pompeii,” I said very lamely, hoping she would change the subject.

“Well, you should go. Leave the goody of my nephew here and come with me in April or May, that's the nicest time of the year. Albert has a villa in Capri and he never uses it.”

She made a full investigation of the house, taking some notes in a small leather bound pad she had with her and went to the kitchen large marble countertop to show me an IKEA catalogue she had with her: “my secretary went for it yesterday.” She had already chosen the beds for the children and some shelves to put their toys. “No TV in the room, darling. It's only a source of troubles for you. In the living room dear and keep the remote control hidden.”

“I was not thinking in a TV so far, Elisabetta.”

“Don't buy a big table for the dinning room. You're not going to make state dinners and it's a waste of money and nerve-racking with the maids” (??) The one you have is perfectly fine, with four chairs around. I have two glass armoires that would look great here and you can put your china in.”

“I have no china, Elisabetta.”

“Nonsense, Tita wants to give you one as present. She's still delighted with the painting you sent her for her birthday. We need a good carpet only. Don't crowd the house with furniture, enjoy the space as it gives you freedom. With these windows, you need nothing else. Only a few ferns.”

“My bank account is already cheering for you, Elisabetta.”

“The pictures of the desk and chairs you showed me are fine and the price too. Go for it and don't think any more. Also that cabinet you liked so much would look fine in the living room. We need a good carpet and some armchairs in different colours as it's not so dull as Mr. Elsässer is planning. Keep the ambiance, but don't bury yourself into a mausoleum, dear. Are you planning to use the fireplace?”

“No, the heating system is enough. It's a mess to clean it afterwards.”

“Good, then we can frame and hung that painting you have from your mother or the Bronzino, but that I would it keep for your studio or bedroom. It's too delicate to put on display.”

I could only nod because at that point I was already clueless of what to do and it was not even twelve o'clock!

We drove with Heindrik and he was already fuming to go-be there. She even joked and said something like “let's eat there. I understand they serve Köttobullar. I haven't tried one in a hundred years!”

The store was very big, like a supermarket -well, it's one- and had it not been by Elisabetta I would have had a collapse. I understand now Heindrik's reserves about coming (not that I'm going to tell him that he was right). It was collective madness. It was empty, but there are so many things and codes to write down that I was dizzy after one hour. She was running like a happy child and I swear women have much bigger ability to process things. I need time to understand what it's written on the tag and one thing at a time, but Elisabetta only needed one quick look to know if it was useful or not. Heindrik just looked miserable while following us (well, following her because she had the leading voice) Elisabetta identified the beds in less than five minutes, found the codes for the mattress -according to Heindrik achieved something impossible; an employee went to get it and returned with the information-, chose some plush animals for the boys, the beddings, the boxes to store their toys, the lamps and some small things more like a blackboard for them.

Heindrik was clever enough as to find a corner and perch himself there, gloomy as a scarecrow. I tried to cheer him up, but I only got a “Guntram, leave me alone.” With some effort I could stop Elisabetta from her shopping spree (her two smallest grandchildren got two funny plush things) and convinced her to go to eat something. She insisted on the cafeteria and sporty made the queue, refusing that we would bring something to her. Heindrik looked absolutely miserable when he got the famous “Köterbuller” (meatballs with sauce) and grimaced at the green cake (a copy of the real Prinsesstºarta) and only mumbled “should try the original one”. Elisabetta spoke without pause about many ideas she had for my flat and I wished I had brought my notepad along. She was harder to follow than a Financial Maths lesson.

When we finished lunch, she ran again to the showroom and I looked in despair to Heindrik. “Forget it, all this was your idea. Besides the nanny has the children, so that excuse does not hold,” he growled at me. “Now, comes the fun. You have to decipher all the codes you wrote down and find the packages. I will enjoy seeing you try, Guntram.”

“Do we have to look for the things myself?”

“Saves costs for the company, and you build it by yourself. Good luck,” he explained me with genuine satisfaction. “The instructions are in Swedish,” he told me nonchalantly. “I'll give you a quick lesson later.”

Very concerned about this new development -heck, I have no idea about Swedish- I rejoined Elisabetta and she was running to the first floor to check the kitchen, bathroom and many other items I had no idea you needed in your life. She had the list. I followed her. Heindrik told me to give him the list of the chosen things and he passed it along to a man I didn't know. “He'll get them for you and call you for the happy paying moment. If you get a heart attack, the Duke will kill me. It's almost four o'clock. Soon the masses will storm this place.”

Fortunately the daily china was not so hard to choose and she had Friederich's list with her. She chose the bathroom things because at that point I was a nerves break and could only follow her meekly. Do people go to supermarkets every weekend? I haven't been in one since 2002, and it was not so stressful as this one. Heindrik realised that I was not feeling so well and told me: “Wait till we visit the Leroy Merlin on a Saturday morning, Guntram. I'll make a man out of you there.”

Yes, Heindrik was really enjoying that moment, but Elisabetta caught him with the experience that only four children at home -including Konrad in the summers-, can give you, and sent him to buy the light bulbs, while we chose “curtains for the children's bedroom and the kitchen”.

At six-thirty I was dead on my feet and she was fresh as a rose. Shopping is something natural for women. We went for a second round of tea and cake and she was happy as a child and ready for the last round. I understand now why many of Konrad's friends complain (when their wives are not around) about their “shopping sprees”. Women can look at a hundred of things in one minute when we only want only thing.

On the way back, I got a catalogue from Meissen and another from Rosenthal to choose china patterns (have to make five suggestions) so Tita can make her decision and give me one set as welcome present.

Tomorrow we're supposed to visit the carpets shop (Thank God, it's a small place) and the furniture seller recommended by Friederich.

I went to bed directly.

Birgitte, the maid just told me the instructions for IKEA furnitures are a step by step set of clear drawings. Heindrik's sense of humour is simply priceless.

* * *

Five days later

Today was big “moving” day. I couldn't even take the children to school because the moving company had announced themselves for 8 a.m., along with the woman for the curtains, the guys from IKEA and Jean Jacques wanted to explore my kitchen. There is a microwave. What else do I need? I have dishes and glasses too.

In the middle of the mess -I was in the corner where Elisabetta had sent me while she dealt with everyone (she can be scarier than Konrad in her elegant way)- a large white box with a ribbon arrived with a private courier. I put it on the new table in the living room and opened to find buried under those plastic bubbles two magnificent forty centimetre roosters made in porcelain. Inside was a visit card with a “For your new home, K.”

With my heart hammering I set the two figures on the table while my mind searched for his reasons to send such a present. Clearly both birds were facing each other and fighting as you could feel the tension portrayed on the arisen feathers. Both were different and very beautiful porcelains and from Meissen if I understood correctly. What on earth had Konrad been thinking to send something like that? Everything he does has a double meaning. We have not spoken since I bought the house and the two times he called, he did it when he knew I was away.

Was this one of his famous “farewell” presents? I don't know. Maybe I should consult with Monika, but in the past he was not signing cards. Elisabetta decided to place the figures on top of the marble fireplace. I don't know if there's another meaning to fighting roosters but they pretty much look like us on a good day.

I continued to work after I typed a SMS to him. “Thank you for the present, G.” I guess he comes back tomorrow, but I'm not certain. In a way, it fits. I'm almost finished with organizing everything and I could leave tomorrow if it were necessary. I even have the linens set on the bed as Goran's maid was dusting after all the men left the house. She's very quiet and discreet. I don't know if I should buy a basket for Mopsi, but the best would be that she remains with the boys; they love her and she's used to be their toy.