“I mean a happy life rather than ours, like the one we imagine they lead in this village.”
He grasped her hands and made her meet his eyes, looking at her very hard.
She gently freed herself, giving him a rapid kiss.
“Eddie,” she said tenderly, “dear Eddie.” Slipping her arm into his she pulled him towards the gangplank. “You’re a great actor,” she said, “a truly great actor.” She was happy and brimming over with life.
“But it’s what I feel,” he protested feebly, letting her pull him along.
“Of course,” she said, “like a true actor.”
The train came to a sudden stop, with the wheels screeching and puffs of smoke rising from the engine. A compartment opened and five girls stuck out their heads. Some of them were peroxide blondes, with curls falling over their shoulders and on their foreheads. They started to laugh and chat, calling out: “Elsa! Elsa!” A showy redhead, wearing a green ribbon in her hair, shouted to the others: “There she is!” and leaned even farther out to wave her hands in greeting. Elsa quickened her step and came close to the window, touching the gaily outstretched hands.
“Corinna!” she exclaimed, looking at the redhead, “What’s this get-up?”
“Saverio says it’s attractive,” Corinna called back, winking and pointing her head towards the inside of the compartment. “Come on aboard,” she added in a falsetto voice; “you don’t want to be stuck in a place like this, do you?” Then, suddenly, she screamed: “Look girls, there’s a Rudolph Valentino!”
The girls waved madly to catch the man’s attention. Eddie had come out from behind the arrivals and departures board; he advanced slowly along the platform, with his hat pulled over his eyes. At that same moment, two German soldiers came through the gate and went towards the stationmaster’s office. After a few moments the stationmaster came out with his red flag under his arm and walked towards the engine, with rapid steps, which accentuated the awkwardness of his chubby body. The soldiers stood in front of the office door, as if they were on guard. The girls fell silent and watched the scene looking worried. Elsa set down her suitcase and looked confusedly at Eddie, who motioned with his head that she should go on. Then he sat down on a bench, under a tourist poster, took the newspaper out of his pocket and buried his face in it. Corinna seemed to understand what was up.
“Come on, dearie!” she shouted. “Come aboard!”
With one hand she waved at the two staring soldiers and gave them a dazzling smile. Meanwhile the stationmaster was coming back with the flag now rolled up under his arm. Corinna asked him what was going on.
“Don’t ask me,” he answered, shrugging his shoulders. “It seems we have to wait for a quarter of an hour. It’s orders, that’s all I know.”
“Then we can get out and stretch our legs, girls,” Corinna chirped. “Climb aboard,” she whispered as she passed Elsa. “We’ll take care of them.”
The little group moved in the direction opposite to where Eddie was seated, passing in front of the soldiers. “Isn’t there anywhere to eat in this station?” Corinna asked in a loud voice, looking around. She was superb at drawing attention to herself, swinging her hips and also the bag she had taken off her shoulder. She had on a clinging flowered dress and sandals with cork soles.
“The sea, girls!” she shouted. “Look at that sea and tell me if it isn’t divine!” She leaned theatrically against the first lamp-post and raised her hand to her mouth, putting on a childish manner. “If I had my bathing suit with me, I’d dive, never mind the autumn weather,” she said, tossing her head and causing her red curls to ripple over her shoulders.
The two soldiers were stunned and couldn’t take their eyes off her. Then she had a stroke of genius, due to the lamp-post, perhaps, or to the necessity of resolving an impossible situation. She let her blouse slip down off her shoulders, leaned against the lamp-post, stretched out her arms and addressed an imaginary public, winking as if the whole scene were in cahoots with her.
“It’s a song they sing the world over,” she shouted, “even our enemies!” And, turning to the other girls, she clapped her hands. It must have been part of the show, because they fell into line, raising their legs in marching time but without moving an inch, their hands at their foreheads in a military salute. Corinna clung to the lamp-post with one hand and, using it as a pivot, wheeled gracefully around it, while her skirt, fluttering in the breeze, displayed her legs to advantage.
The girls applauded and one of the soldiers whistled. Corinna thanked them with a mock bow and went to the fountain near the hedge. She passed a wet finger over her forehead while looking down at the street below; then, trailed by the other girls, she started to reboard the train.
“Goodbye, boys!” she shouted to the soldiers. “We’re going to snatch some rest. We’ve a long tour ahead of us.”
Elsa was waiting in the corridor and threw her arms around her.
“You’re an angel, Corinna,” she said, giving her a kiss.
“Think nothing of it,” said Corinna, starting to cry like a baby.
The two soldiers had come close to the waiting train; they looked up at the girls and tried to exchange words; one of them knew some Italian. Just then there was the sound of a motor, and a black car came through the gate and travelled the length of the platform until it stopped at the front, just behind the engine. The girls tried to fathom what was happening, but there was a curve in the tracks and they couldn’t see very well around it. Eddie hadn’t moved from the bench. Apparently he was immersed in the newspaper that shielded his face.
“What’s up?” asked Elsa, trying to seem indifferent as she stowed her things in the luggage net.
“Nothing,” one of the girls answered. “It must be a big shot who arrived in the car. He’s in civilian clothes and travelling first-class.”
“Is he alone?” Elsa asked.
“It seems so. The soldiers are standing at attention and not boarding the train.”
Elsa peered out the window. The soldiers had turned around and were walking towards the road leading into the town. The stationmaster came back, dragging the red flag behind him and looking down at his shoes.
“The train’s leaving,” he said in a philosophical, knowing manner, and waved the flag. The engine whistled. The girls returned to their seats, only Elsa stayed at the window. She had combed her hair off her forehead and her eyes were still gleaming. At this moment Eddie came up and stood directly under the window.
“Goodbye, Eddie,” Elsa murmured, stretching out her hand.
“Shall we meet in another film?” he asked.
“What the devil is he saying?” shouted the director from behind him. “What the devil?”
“Shall I hold?” asked the cameraman.
“No,” said the director. “It’s going to be dubbed anyhow.” And he shouted into the megaphone, “Walk, man, the train’s moving, move faster, follow it along the platform, hold her hand.”
The train had, indeed, started, and Eddie obeyed orders, quickening his pace and keeping up as long as he could. The train picked up speed and went around the curve and through a switch on the other side. Eddie wheeled about and took a few steps before stopping to light a cigarette and then walk slowly on into camera. The director made gestures to regulate his pace, as if he were manipulating him with strings.