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The
blue
Mercedes
smoothly
and
quickly
crunches
the
30
miles
that
separate
Geneva
from
Tolochenaz.
Sophia
sits
comfortably
in
the
back
and
absorbs
the
beauty
of
the
glistening
lake.
She
is
elegantly
casual
in
a
light
cashmere
sweater,
flowy
pants
and
Ferragamo
moccasins.
Audrey
made
her
appreciate
moccasins,
a
kind
of
shoes
Sophia
had
never
considered
neither
elegant
nor
flattering
before.
But
the
way
Audrey
wore
hers,
looking
comfortable
yet
glamorous,
convinced
Sophia
to
look
into
the
style
(especially
since
her
feet
were
tolerating
high
heels
less
and
less)
and
call
Ferragamos
widow
Wanda
to
discuss
a
potential
adoption
of
the
flats.
As
it
turned
out,
it
was
a
perfect
marriage
she
was
able
to
keep
her
feet
happy
and
her
style
glitzy.
The
street
veers
away
from
the
lake.
A
couple
of
turns
and
a
glorious
countryside
opens
before
Sophias
large
and
dark
sunglasses.
She
removes
them
to
take
in
the
understated
beauty
of
the
large
estate
of
La
Paisable.
Sophia,
darling.
A
couple
of
kisses,
European
style.
Audrey,
you
look
gorgeous.
They
flow
inside,
through
a
large
and
bright
foyer,
into
the
intimate
and
cozy
parlor.
They
sit
down.
Tea
is
immediately
served.
You
know
Audrey,
you
are
aging
so
gracefully.
Whats
your
secret?
The
secret,
my
dear,
is
that
je
ne
give-a-fuck,
comprend
They
giggle.
Sophia
cant
help
feeling
a
little
stab
of
jealousy
at
Audreys
apparently
nonchalant
relationship
with
herself,
her
luck
of
self-absorbedness
which
makes
her
so
appealing,
confident
and
real.
Sometimes
she
would
like
to
be
less
concerned
with
aging
and
the
image
she
has
to
keep
up
for
the
industry
and
the
magazines
and
the
fans.
When
she
was
young,
she
was
a
carefree,
independent
spirit
does
age
ruin
everything?
Whatever
it
is,
you
are
truly
beautiful.
Maybe
your
secret
will
rub
off
on
me.
Of
course,
but
only
if
youll
let
it.
Listen,
we
are
supposed
to
be
fabulous,
but
really,
screw
fabulous.
Look
at
my
hands
-
I
havent
had
a
manicure
in
3
weeks
and
I
dont
care,
says
Audrey,
proudly
showing
grown
cuticles
and
natural
nails.
She
lights
up
a
cigarette.
Sophia
extends
her
arm
to
admire
her
perfectly
manicured
hands.
Tesoro,
I
have
my
manicure
done
every
3
days
and
I
love
it!
See,
we
are
who
we
are!
says
Audrey.
They
both
chuckle
at
their
differences,
at
the
way
they
see
life
and
what
affects
them.
So,
here
we
are,
2
girls
alone
no
husbands,
boyfriends,
kids
We
should
go
wild!
Sophia
sips
her
tea.
Well,
how
about
we
start
with
making
lunch?
Im
hungry,
says
Audrey,
standing
up.
Lets
go
to
the
kitchen
and
see
whats
in
that
sad
fridge
of
mine.
Not
much,
says
Sophia,
looking
for
something
edible
in
the
almost-empty
refrigerator.
Sophia
moves
around
a
bottle
of
milk,
half
a
wheel
of
Brie
cheese,
a
box
of
crackers.
No
wonder
youre
so
skinny,
she
says.
So,
as
I
said
on
the
phone,
lets
make
pasta.
I
really
am
in
the
mood
for
some
good,
earthy
tomato
pasta
alla
sorrentina,
come
la
faceva
mamma
quando
ero
bambina.
The
beauty
of
having
Audrey
as
a
friend
is
that
not
only
is
she
Audrey,
but
also
that
she
understands
Italian
this
is
what
Sophia
told
her
sister
when
she
first
cemented
this
friendship.
Having
lived
in
Italy
for
some
time
and
married
an
Italian
man,
Audrey
is
pretty
fluent
in
Italian
and
it
works
so
well
for
Sophia,
who
sometimes
gets
tired
of
speaking
a
foreign
language
and
easily
falls
back
to
her
mother
tongue.
Audrey
understands
that
todays
meal
will
be
pasta
the
way
Sophias
mother
used
to
make
when
she
was
a
child,
Sorrento-style.
And
she
is
looking
forward
to
the
treat.
We
need
to
make
a
supermarket
run
there
must
be
a
supermarket
around
here
and
buy
everything.
My
chauffeur
can
take
us.
Ok,
lets,
but
Ill
drive,
replies
Audrey.
She
grabs
a
silk
scarf
from
behind
the
kitchen
and
quickly
wraps
it
around
her
head.
Oh,
the
wind!
yells
Sophia
from
the
passenger
seat
of
the
spiffy,
convertible
Austin
Martin
Audrey
is
driving
like
a
formula
one
pro.
Yes,
isnt
it
fantastic?
Audrey
yells
back.
Sophia
grabs
her
teased
mane
of
hair
with
both
hands,
trying
to
keep
it
in
place,
to
no
avail.
Just
let
it
go,
Sophia!
incites
Audrey.
Sophia
considers
it.
Then.
Ok,
je
ne
give-a-fuck!
she
screams
and
lets
her
hair
go
wild
in
the
warm
wind.
Audrey
removes
her
scarf
and
does
the
same.
They
both
explode
in
a
fragrant
laugh
and
a
hair
tornado.
Listen,
God
knows
I
love
living
in
Switzerland,
but
the
produce
here
is
atrocious.
Looks
at
these
sad
tomatoes
Says
Sophia
picking
up
pale
and
shriveled
vegetables
that
barely
resemble
tomatoes.
Ah,
the
tomatoes
in
Napoli
Sally
Tomato
Smiles
Audrey
to
herself.
Where?
What
kind
of
tomato
is
that?
It
was
the
name
of
a
character
in
Tiffanys
Good,
but
that
wont
help
with
the
sauce,
replies
Sophia.
Here,
this
is
the
best
of
the
worst.
She
picks
up
a
handful
of
blush
tomatoes
and
put
them
in
a
bag.
The
secret
is
to
add
some
conserva,
how
do
you
call
it?
Ah,
tomato
paste,
to
brighten
up
the
sauce,
you
know.
They
must
have
some
here,
no?
They
peruse
the
small
supermarket
under
the
discreet
glances
of
the
other
customers.
Audrey
is
not
an
unlikely
sight
around
here
but
Audrey
and
Sophia
together,
hair
disheveled,
pushing
a
grocery
cart
they
certainly
make
an
impression
even
on
the
most
jaded.
Pasta
Umm,
lets
see
Sophia
scrutinizes
the
small
selection
of
available
pasta
with
the
concentration
of
a
surgeon.
German
pasta?
Oh
Dio,
siamo
arrivato
alla
fine
del
mondo!
Audrey
chuckles.
Sophia
is
so
colorful
and
her
expressions,
with
her
slight
Neapolitan
accent,
always
crack
her
up.
German
pasta
will
cause
the
world
to
come
to
an
end
ah!
She
finally
settles
with
an
Italian
brand.
Sottomarca,
sub-brand,
she
says,
but
at
least
its
Italian.
You
must
have
some
basil
in
that
farm
of
yours?
The
best,
plant
to
table.
La
Sorrentina
also
needs
some
good,
fresh
mozzarella,
but
look
at
this
sad,
processed
cheese
Ok,
will
do
without.
Lets
pay
and
go.
Here,
pick
some
good
leaves
and
wash
them
up,
directs
Sophia.
Audrey
carefully
selects
the
best,
greenest
basil
leaves
from
a
bunch
her
maid
has
picked
in
the
herb
garden.
She
then
raises
the
privileged
leaves
in
front
of
her
eyes
in
appraisal.
Audrey,
its
basil,
not
diamonds.
Just
throw
them
in
here.
She
lifts
up
the
lid
of
a
small
pot
where
chopped
tomatoes
are
already
simmering.
How
long
will
it
take?
asks
Audrey.
15
minutes.
We
can
start
boiling
the
water
for
la
pasta.
Even
though
Sophia
has
rarely
been
inside
Audreys
kitchen,
she
seems
to
own
the
space.
She
confidently
opens
doors
and
drawers
and
pulls
out
exactly
whatever
spoon,
knife,
ladle
or
plate
she
is
looking
for.
Nu
poco
e
questo,
she
says
in
Neapolitan
throwing
a
pinch
of
salt
in
the
pot,
Nu
poco
e
quello.
She
lets
a
touch
of
grinded
pepper
fall
on
the
red
sauce.
Audrey
laughs
as
she
opens
a
bottle
of
Chateau
Rayas
and
lets
it
breathe
for
a
moment.
You
are
a
comic
genius
in
your
native
language.
American
audiences
will
never
know,
too
bad
Sophia
puts
her
hands
on
her
hips.
They
love
me
for
my
inner
talent
Audrey
laughs
again.
Then
she
pours
2
glasses
and
hands
one
to
Sophia.
Here,
to
spring.
The
glasses
clink.
Che
buono
questo
vino!
Roberts
choice.
He
has
completely
re-stacked
the
cellar.
He
has
excellent
taste,
says
Sophia.
Thank
you,
darling.
They
chuckle.
The
sauce
smells
divine,
says
Audrey.
How
did
you
learn
to
cook?
I
don't
know
I
guess
by
observing,
and
tasting.
Food
to
me
is
related
to
memories;
the
nicer
the
memory,
the
better
my
food.
Ah,
chuckles
Audrey,
heres
the
title
of
your
cookbook,
when
you
write
one:
Recipes
and
Memories
Not
bad,
huh?
Fantastico
To
the
book.
Another
toast,
another
refill.
This
pasta,
for
instance,
Sophia
continues
with
her
train
of
thought,
,My
mother
used
to
make
it
during
the
war,
when
we
were
on
a
budget.
Another
dish
I
make
perfectly
is
the
Easter
Pastiera.
This
little
woman
made
it
for
me
when
I
was
in
jail
The
guards
delivered
it
to
me
with
a
message.
More
or
less
it
said:
Dear
Sophia,
may
this
cake
I
made
for
you
with
my
hands
ease
and
sweeten
your
sojourn
in
jail.
It
was
delicious
and
it
did!
How?
Audrey
asks
tentatively.
You
can
ask,
go
on,
invites
Sophia
with
a
relaxed
smile.
Well,
you
know,
how
was
it?
You
know
what?
In
the
end
prison
wasnt
that
bad.
I
mean,
at
first
it
was
horrible.
When
I
arrived
I
was
in
shock
and
I
remember
all
these
women
in
the
other
jails
screaming
my
name,
like
I
was
there
just
visiting
and
signing
autographs
When
they
closed
the
door
behind
me,
I
fell
on
the
bed
and
cried
all
night.
Also,
the
humiliation,
Oddio
But
then
I
got
over
it;
you
know
me,
you
need
to
look
at
the
bright
side.
I
had
a
lovely,
freshly
painted
pink,
clean
cell,
I
had
a
TV
set,
they
let
me
wear
a
DVF
wraparound
I
was
a
stylish
prisoner.
They
both
laugh.
It
was
humbling
and
liberating,
Sophia
continues.
No
make-up,
no
false
eyelashes,
no
wigs,
no
jewelry
it
was
just
me.
And
the
amazing
people
who
came
every
day
to
leave
messages
of
support
and
encouragement
and
incredible
food.
I
gained
two
kilos
but
je
ne
gave-a-fuck
Another
laugh.
I
certainly
didnt
feel
alone
all
along;
I
felt
I
was
surrounded
by
so
much
love.
And
of
course
my
family
came
to
visit
every
day
I
had
no
real
privileges
but
I
was
treated
with
honest
respect.
It
was
spa
for
the
soul,
you
know?
Audrey
nods
and
smiles.
So,
hows
life
in
the
love
boat?
asks
Sophia,
lazily
stirring
the
sauce.
I
cannot
explain,
Sophia.
He
is
just
perfect
for
me
and
I
hope
I
am
perfect
for
him,
too.
He
is
the
man
I
want
to
get
old
with.
Older,
I
mean.
Another
chuckle.
Its
just
a
good
match
Is
everything
ok
with
you
and
Carlo?
Audrey
asks.
Why?
Sure,
I
mean,
we
have
been
married
for
such
a
long
time
Audrey
looks
at
Sophia,
unconvinced.
Ecche
Ok,
I
love
Carlo,
he
has
been
a
good
husband,
almost
a
father
to
me.
But
now,
looking
at
you,
how
radiant
you
are,
I
wonder
You
had
the
courage
to
divorce
the
men
you
didnt
love
anymore
and
look
for
more
passion
in
your
life
You
didnt
settle
I
mean,
I
love
Carlo,
but
sometimes
I
think
about
what
I
have
been
missing
out
on
in
life;
the
excitement
of
romance,
a
passion
that
sweeps
you
away.
Maybe
I
should
have
married
Marcello
but
then,
on
second
thought,
I
dont
really
think
I
was
his
type.
Look
at
him,
he
ended
up
with
women
like
Faye
and
Catherine,
blonde,
frosty
bitches
They
laugh
and
Audrey
toasts:
To
frosty
bitches.
Glasses
clink
again.
Audrey
refills
them.
Oh
well,
Sophia
seems
to
wrap
all
these
considerations
up.
And
what
about
acting?
You
havent
made
a
movie
in
some
time
Ah,
the
water
is
boiling.
She
opens
up
a
package
of
pasta.
Penne
sink
into
the
pot.
She
joins
Audrey
at
the
table
and
helps
her
set
it
for
lunch.
Did
I
tell
you
I
have
just
accepted
a
position
with
Unicef?
says
Audrey
as
she
places
forks
next
to
plates.
Unicef?
The
big
organization
for
children?
Sophia
smiles
uncomfortably
for
a
second,
maybe
looking
for
a
way
out.
But
Audrey
has
pinned
her
with
her
stern
glance
and
unmovable
resolve.
Sophia
sighs.
E
prometto,
prometto
I
promise.
Youre
going
to
be
a
hundred
and
still
travel
around
the
world
for
your
children
They
look
at
each
other
with
the
affection
of
old
friends.
Ill
drink
to
that!
Audrey
raises
her
glass,
Sophia
joins
her
in
a
toast.
They
down
the
wine.
Then
-
Uhhh,
la
pasta
Sophia
runs
to
the
stove
and
removes
the
pot
with
the
boiling
pasta.
Swiftly,
she
drains
it
and
pours
it
in
a
large
bowl.
She
ladles
rich
tomato
sauce
on
top,
sprinkles
it
with
basil
and,
after
vigorously
stirring
the
pasta,
brings
it
to
the
table.
Mon
Dieu,
che
spettacolo!
exclaims
Audrey.
Sophia
smiles
and
spoons
very
generous
portions
onto
their
plates.
Here,
eat.
Youre
not
going
to
get
this
pasta
in
Africa.
The
End