Postbox
‘Piero?’
‘Did you get my letter?’ he asked.
‘Perhaps. I can’t remember.’
Not even the decency to lie.
Without stopping to catch her breath, Agnese went on, ‘I imagine you’re enjoying yourself.’
‘I needed a rest.’
‘You never needed a rest when your wife wanted you to go to the Lake.’
‘Is your American company paying for this phone call?’
There was a silence during which he could hear her breathing.
‘You’ve got a nerve, Piero.’
‘Is that what you phoned to tell me?’