It had happened several months earlier.

  Zula was phenomenal.

  Almost everyone on the street looked at her.

  She was three or four years older than me, a divorcee who had already had the chance to have two or three—I never found out the whole truth—husbands, but I completely lost my head over her.

  We’d met at social gatherings, but I’d never had the occasion to make any actual decisive and absolute move.

  Until one day.

  It was the end of January.

  My hair was cut short and I was dressed in an RAF jacket, a yellow scarf, brown velvet pants, horizontally-striped colored socks and cherry, of course American, half-boots on rubber soles.

  I was waiting for a taxi in front of Central Station.

  I saw one coming and when it stopped, I saw none other than Zula getting out of it.

  She had a medium sized leather suitcase and this kind of travel bag.

  I disregarded all else and leapt immediately to help her.

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  She looked like the young emerging star of Italian film, Sophia Loren.

  -It’s actually an inconvenience, I said after she thanked me for taking her bag, but I feel a familial connection to you.

  -How’s that?

  -My favorite mare for horse riding and hunting was my uncle Apollinari’s, and she just so carried the name Zula.

  This was true.

  -You’ve probably never been compared to a mare before.

  -Oh that’s cute, she retorted.

  -Where you headed?

  -To the capital on the express train.

  -The one that’s late?, I asked, pointing at the timetable. Her train was forty minutes late.

  -Yeah.

  -Unfortunately, I’ve run out of time and I have to go, I said abruptly.

  I left her with her suitcase in the middle of the platform.

  Looking disappointed and angry, she watched as I hastily disappeared.

  I ran quickly into the station’s recently opened flower shop, where I bought the largest and most beautiful bouquet of flowers I could find.

  After a few minutes, I made my way to sneak up on Zula from behind, handing her the bouquet.

  -Did you know I was coming back?

  -I knew.

  On the platform, the time passed very quickly.

  When the train came into the station we got into the wagon.

  Zula travelled first-class.

  In the compartment, I immediately doffed and hung my coat.

  We sat down.

  -I’ve got sweet surprises for you, I told her.

  At that moment, I had thought everything through exactly.

  -Because I love you so, I’m going to the capital with you.

  Three feelings were painted on her beautiful face: mirth… thrill… and shock.

  At any cost, Zula tried to dissuade me from my aim.

  I told her that I would be no burden at all to her, showing her my cash, which by chance I had with me.

  I promised her I would only carry her suitcase for her and that this would already be for me maximum luck.

  Just then a priest entered the compartment, so we left for the corridor.

  On the matter of train rides in compartments with priests I still had very fresh memories.