Head Shot

57

'You don't need to ask me how close to my father I was, Mario. You know quite well. I inherited his pushy gene, while our Viola takes after my mother all the way. They're both classic types; keep outa ma kitchen,' she mimicked in harsh Scots Italian, 'but keep me outa the rest of the world.'

He looked at his beautiful cousin; her silver hair glinted in the flickering light of the candles arranged around the spacious apartment.

She was seated in a deep armchair, barefoot, her long legs tucked up under her, with a goblet of red wine warming in her hands.

'You know something else? I've never asked my mother about it, mind you, but I think their marriage was arranged, by Papa or Nana, or maybe even both of them.'

Mario laughed, quietly. 'Sure, kid, I know that; I've known it since I was fifteen years old. Papa Viareggio told me himself. He said that when Beppe was a lad they didn't trust him an inch, and even less when it came to fixing himself up with a wife. So the two old devils looked around for a nice quiet girl from a suitable Italian family… in other words, one with no money, folk who would just be grateful for the match and wouldn't try and influence the family business… and they found Auntie Sophia, from the Belmontes in Dunfermline. Nana knew your other granny as a girl; she made the approach and a meeting was set up between your dad and mum.

'They both knew the score; plus, your mother was a very attractive girl… as she still is.'

Her mouth gaped open. 'Is that right?' she exclaimed.

'That's what our grandfather told me. You know, Paulie, it's a shame that you never real y got to know the old man, but you were just too young for him to take you under his wing, the way he took me. Plus, of course, you're a girl. That's why the trust was set up as it was; with Beppe in ultimate control, then me.'

She smiled; in the candle-glow, she looked devastatingly beautiful.

'So Papa was an old chauvinist, was he?'

'Yes, but no more than your father was. They were both wary of women with ambition… which is ironic, since Papa was ruled by the most ambitious woman I've ever met.'

'Nana?'

'Too right; our granny is the archetypal matriarch. That's why my mother made her way outside the family; she knew that our hive could only support one queen. With every respect to Beppe, my mum's forgotten more about business than he ever knew, yet Papa only gave her the minor role in the management of the trust, and he ensured that ultimately it passed to me, rather than you, regardless of how we grew up.'

'You're just like him, you know,' said Paula. 'I looked through my dad's office today, and I found an old piece of cine film that had been transferred to video. It was a family thing, a holiday in Italy when Dad and Aunt Christina were kids; Papa must have been around the age you are now, and honest to God, Mario, it could have been you. I was a bit scared of him when I was a kid, and of you, too.

'I imagined all sorts of things about him; I real y did think he was a Godfather type, and I thought that you were a sort of apprentice.'

'He wasn't, though,' Mario told her, 'he was one of the most honest men I ever met, even if he was one of the craftiest, too. You were wrong about him, and you're wrong about yourself as well. You're just like my mother; you've got Nana's blood flowing in your veins too. That's why she doesn't trust you.'

She stared at him in amazement that might just have been genuine.

'What! My own granny doesn't trust me?'

'It's true, she doesn't, because she knows she can't control you. She even told me to keep an eye on you.'

'Hah! Doesn't she know that you've been keeping an eye on me for years?'

'Only discreetly; and I haven't real y been keeping tabs on you. I'd rather you thought that I've been looking out for you. I was worried when I heard that you'd gone into the sauna business; especial y those ones. The guy who used to own them was the biggest fucking hood in Edinburgh, until he got topped.'

'Are you happy now?'

'Now that I understand why you did it, yes, I am.'