It is a well-known conceit of Italian life that both husband and wife are happy to take a lover or a mistress, but neither are willing to contemplate divorce, since neither wishes to upset the equilibrium in which the other lives.
The case of the lawyer Pelligrini, esteemed colleague of Avvocato Cassa, who had arrived with his wife and two young children in a smart restaurant on the Costa Merlata will serve to illustrate the point.
“Buonasera, avvocato.”
“Luigi.”
Smiling, the maître d’ led the lawyer Pellegrini to a charming and intimate corner of the restaurant where a young lady was sitting in a Versace dress, surrounded by honeysuckle and vines.
“Penso di non. I don’t think so,” said the lawyer Pelligrini. “We will need a bigger table this evening.”
“Of course, avvocato,” said the maître d’.
Realising his mistake, the maître d’ led the lawyer over to a table in the middle of the restaurant.
“Papa! Voglio mozzarella e pomodoro.”
Avvocato Pelligrini smiled at his young daughter. “Certo, piccola,” he said, as his wife lifted their son onto one of the chairs.
“We’ll have the antipasti. But no pesce crudo,” he said quickly. “The children don’t like raw fish.”
“Of course, avvocato. Pizza Margherita?”
“Good idea. We’ll have the antipasti, followed by two small Margheritas, and a bottle of your house red.”
“While you are about it,” said his wife, “can you bring a cushion for my son?”
The maître d’ nodded and gathered up the menus. As he walked away, he smiled to himself ruefully. On his previous visit to the restaurant, the avvocato had ordered a platter of raw fish, followed by freshly caught aragosta and the most expensive of the Brunello wines in the cellar. On that occasion, however, he had been accompanied by the young lady in a Versace dress.