She forced herself to smile before going on.

‘That must be rule number one in all the “Infidelity for Dummies” books – never take a lover when on a family holiday with your husband and daughter.’

‘I’m working tomorrow morning,’ Natale said with a confidence that worried her. ‘But I’m free this afternoon. You can come and join me.’

‘It’s impossible, Natale.’ She waved the silver ring in front of his eyes. ‘I won’t be able to find any credible excuse. Franck is already suspicious and he …’

‘The Marcone Belvedere,’ the fisherman cut in. ‘One o’clock. Your husband will let you go there on your own.’

*

The Marcone Belvedere.

Natale was right.

Franck would never suspect her of going there to meet her lover.

The Marcone Belvedere was famous for its cemetery. For its mausoleums belonging to the wealthiest Corsican dynasties in La Balagne, and the most monumental among them – the one belonging to the Idrissis.

Her parents’ grave.

35

Monday, 21 August 1989, fifteenth day of the holidays
Smoke-without-fire-blue sky

I’m not going to write to you this morning. I’m just going to copy something out!

Honest truth.

It was in today’s Corse-Matin. More about that company boss from Nice who went straight to the bottom with his pockets full of concrete, or of his gold, can’t remember. A story that’s come at precisely the right time, according to the journalists. That’s why I’d rather copy it out, because I don’t know what to think. There’s a whole file on the acquisitions made by the Coastal and Lakeside Conservation Association, about the endless procedures around zoning maps, about the precise perimeter of protected areas. After reading this morning’s Corse-Matin I don’t know whether I should love my Papé even more, or be a bit afraid of him. I’ll let you make up your own mind.

Extract from Corse-Matin, 21 August 1989

The Shepherd’s lucky star. Who is Cassanu Idrissi?

Interview by Alexandre Palazzo

‘Cassanu’ is the oldest word for an oak tree, from the Celtic, from Occitan, from Old Corsican. In 1926 the late Pancrace Idrissi gave this Christian name to his only son, in tribute to the three-hundred-year-old oak that grows in the middle of Arcanu Farm, so that his son could draw on its strength, its longevity, its roots.

Sixty-three years later, the old patriarch’s wishes have come to pass, probably beyond everything he had dreamed. Cassanu Idrissi has become one of the emblematic figures of the Balagne region, one of the most influential, even though he remains an unclassifiable and atypical character. The Shepherd of Arcanu is not the mayor of any village, there is no regional councillor in his family, no deputy, no chair of an association. Cassanu presents himself as a simple shepherd, a shepherd who rules over eighty hectares of desert, at the gates of Calvi, inhabited only by a campsite and three villas. Cassanu Idrissi is a loner.