‘Nothing … Nothing, just stay out from under my feet, keep your distance, don’t draw Maman and Papa’s attention to me. Or, if necessary, keep them away from me, tell them fibs when I’m not there, say we’re playing guitar on Oscelluccia beach or building a shack in the Belloni woods with Filip and Estefan, I don’t care, I’m just asking you to cover for me for two days, until the evening of the twenty-third.’

‘Saint Rose’s day? What’s happening then? Are you going to go and pick a bunch of rosa canina, like Papa did? The winner’s bouquet? The big prize on the tombola? After the lambada, are you going to play put-it-there? Put it there in the Chjara-pussy?’

I really love being vulgar with my brother. He can’t say a thing, he’s the one who taught me.

‘That night I’m going to slip away, little sister of mine, and you are not going to discover my true destination. Maybe in a year or two we’ll let you have the black box.’

‘When you’re married to your Chjara, with a string of brats? Is that it?’

Nico changes position, masking the sun from me once more and switching to negative mode.

Just a shadow.

‘That’s right. We’ll invite you.’

I don’t want to push it.

‘Mm right … Are you absolutely sure?’

‘Of what?’

‘Of being the first to pluck that little orchid? There’s some pretty fierce competition, isn’t there?’

‘Yes, I’m sure!’

‘And your rivals?’

‘It’s like a game of chess, sweetie, you have to have a strategy, to be thinking a few moves ahead.’

‘Can you explain it to me? Your strategy?’

The shadow bends down and sits beside me, wraps me up in its protection. Nicolas has taught me everything, he’s opening up a path through the maquis of my life.