The Foreign Service Journal, July-August 2003

Sally Lamkin looked at John Lang, fit and trim and handsome. He was smiling, too. “John,” she said, “Sometime I think we would do well to have a talk outside the office. I do like to escape from bureaucracy sometimes.” “And so do I. ... I know how full your schedule is. You wouldn’t, by chance, be free for dinner tomorrow evening? Saturday, I mean.” “I know tomorrow’s Saturday. I can ask Marie to check my schedule, but — yes, I’m sure I’m free. Shall we do it?” And they did. A security officer was supposed to accompany the ambassador whenever she left Villa Taverna, her residence set in seven acres of walled gar- dens. But there was nothing scheduled for her, that Saturday evening. At eight o’clock Lang drove up to the villa gate and was instantly admitted by the guards. Ten minutes later he and Sally Lamkin drove out. Lang had thought carefully where they might have dinner with less chance that the American ambassador would be recognized. He settled on the Osteria da Nerone, on the hill above the Colosseum. It was much frequented by Americans who, he thought, were less like- ly to recognize her, or anyway to comment on her pres- ence, than people in a restaurant where most guests were Romans. It was a warm evening for February so they sat outside and no one paid attention. The waiters recog- nized him; he ate there often. Their greeting for the lady seemed simple politeness. The two Americans had antipasto and spaghetti alle vongole and broccoletti and almost a liter of the house’s white wine. They talked of nothing serious. Sally Lamkin said how happy she was to get away from the round of diplomatic dinners. John Lang said that he could stomach the diplo- matic life six days a week, but he tried to keep weekends, or anyway Sundays, free. He looked at her and said, “You know, I live near Piazza Navona. What would you say to a coffee at the Bar Navona?” “Fine,” she said, smiling. He parked his Lancia in Via del Governo Vecchio, a few yards from where he lived. They had their coffee in Rome’s grandest piazza, and walked back toward the car. “Would you like to see my modest apartment? No Villa Taverna, to be sure.” “Why ... yes, thanks. Just for a minute.” In 10 minutes, or it may have been 20, they were in bed. He thought afterward, she is glorious. She thought, he is fine, strong, good. They slept then, and at dawn on Sunday he woke her and took her home. He was com- mitted to a hike that day, and went with six friends to climb Monte Navegna. That afternoon, back in Rome, he called her. “I hope you do not think I am guilty of disrespect to the Chief of Mission.” “You are my good counselor. My good friend. My buddy.” “If I am violating laws and regulations and protocol ... I want to do it again.” “Me, too.” The question was, when. The next week passed quickly. The ambassador told Marie Takala that she thought she had been overscheduled recently. She was not blaming Marie, but henceforth she wanted to keep Saturday evenings and Sundays free. That shouldn’t be too hard, Marie said; other ambassadors, and prominent Italians, certainly did all they could to keep time free for themselves and their families. O ver the next two months, Lang and his ambassador spent every Saturday night together, in his apart- ment, except for one weekend when she had to visit Turin and another when she had a speaking engagement in Naples. On Sundays, Lang took her to the mountains with his friends. Her Italian was not bad, and she was a strong hiker. Lang wondered what people might be say- ing about the two of them, but he said nothing to her about that. Now it was April. The cruelest month, Lang thought as he dressed. He ate a quick breakfast, and skimmed the pages of the Corriere della Sera and La Stampa. He opened the window and took a long look at the street below. No one waiting, so far as he could see. Well, he hoped not. It was 7:15; time to go to work. F O C U S J U LY- A U G U S T 2 0 0 3 / F O R E I G N S E R V I C E J O U R N A L 33 She quickly decided she liked Lang’s frankness, which seemed to be coupled with a good understanding of Italian matters.