11
From the Beginning to the End
“Do you still go out to your family home?” asked Dani. They’d placed the orchids in two pots, grouping them into fours. Gia was carefully arranging some moss on the top.
“Yes, every year I go just after New Year here. The restaurant slows down then, so I can spend a month or so with my family there. I try to go over in the summer too. It’s beautiful at that time of year.
” She positioned one of the arrangements on the dining room table and stood back to admire it.
“That’s better,” she murmured to herself.
“They look lovely,” agreed Dani. She glanced over to the balcony and noted that it was full of plants and flowers. “You like plants, I see.”
“Yes, I miss a garden. I love my apartment – apart from anything, it’s easy to keep. But I miss having a garden to walk around. In Desenzano Del Garda, our home there has a very large garden and it overlooks the lake.”
Dani noted, “Well, I suppose this is a miniature version – a balcony overlooking a river.”
Gia laughed at her comment. “Si, I suppose it is.”
“Did you never want to live back in Italy again?”
“Sometimes. But my boys are here. They’re all I’ve got and I’ve been here for so long now.
I did think about packing up and going back when Alessandro died.
I found it very hard being here without him.
I’d never been alone before. I moved from my father’s house to my husband’s.
But Cosimo was studying and the two younger boys were in school.
” Gia picked up the next pot she’d been arranging and walked over to a large console table, placing it at one end.
She stood back again to admire it. “Jerome was a handful. He took his father’s death very badly – well we all did.
Him more than the other two, though. But thanks to Matteo, he began to cope better. ”
“Matteo?” Dani asked happy to hear any information about Jerome.
Gia smiled. “Yes. If it wasn’t for Matteo, Jerome would have never wanted a restaurant and we would never have La Casa.”
“Oh.” Dani stared with curious eyes at Gia.
“Let’s have another coffee.”
“Um, okay, as long as I’m not stopping you from anything?”
Gia huffed. “No. It’s nice to have a little female company. I’ll tell you how we started up, if you’re interested.”
Interested? Dani huffed to herself. She couldn’t think of anything she wanted to hear more.
AFTER ALESSANDRO DIED, Gia suffered a deep depression.
His death was sudden. She was left alone with one son at university, completing his accountancy degree, and two unruly teenagers.
That summer, she took them all to the family house in northern Italy.
They had always spent their summers there, usually just a couple of weeks, but this time they went for the whole summer. Gia needed her family’s support.
Alessandro Ferretti had provided well for his family.
He had a thriving accountancy business that he had primed for his three sons to expand.
Cosimo was already on track, two years into his degree.
Once Alessandro died, the company was headed by his loyal employees, his managing director taking control until Cosimo had finished his studies.
His life insurance ensured the house was fully paid off and that Gia and his family were left with a substantial inheritance.
It was on this holiday in Desenzano Del Garda that the family first met Peter.
He was managing the restaurant that Gia’s cousin Matteo was a chef in.
They frequented it throughout their holiday.
Peter had just divorced his first wife and moved to Italy from Switzerland.
Over the holiday, Peter got to know them well.
He’d explained that he was just working there until summer was over and then he hoped to go back to England.
He’d worked around Europe and felt it was time to go back home.
Gia was cooking dinner one evening with Matteo. His family lived close by and he’d come over on his night off to see them all.
“I really need to do something, Matteo. Alessandro provided for us but I’ll go crazy if I don’t have something else to do. And the money won’t last forever.” She took a teaspoon and collected some sauce she was stirring, and motioned for Matteo to taste it.
He took the spoon and put it in his mouth. “It’s perfect, Gia.” He nodded as he licked his lips. He watched her as she started to fry the chicken piccata, smiling to himself. It was Jerome’s favourite dish. “How are the boys? They seem okay, except for Jerome. He’s very quiet.”
“Yes. It’s hit him hard and he’s struggling at school. Thank goodness for Cosimo. He spends every moment he can with Jerome. He just seems lost.”
“He needs something to interest him, take his mind off what’s happened.”
They all sat down to eat – Matteo, his wife Marcella and their two daughters. Jerome came into the large kitchen and checked the pots on the stove as everyone settled into their seats.
“Thanks Mama.” He hugged Gia in appreciation for cooking his favourite meal. “I would’ve helped you if you’d asked.”
“You like to cook, Jerome?” asked Matteo as he served himself.
“Yes, I like helping Mama,” Jerome replied awkwardly.
“He’s very good. He often cooks for us – desserts too.”
Matteo grinned. “You should come down to the restaurant and watch if you like.” Matteo eyed Jerome as he spoke. “Maybe even get to work a little.”
Jerome’s blue eyes sparkled a little and he looked over to his mother for approval.
“Would you like that? I know you love the food there, you’ll get to see how it’s made. Maybe steal a couple of recipes,” joked Gia, hoping Jerome would relax, he always looked so tense.
“Yes, I’d like to,” muttered Jerome and Gia sighed inwardly.
“Great. I’m at the restaurant by seven. Come around the back anytime after that, but before eleven thirty, because it’ll be too busy then.” Matteo smirked at him as he sat down, pleased to see a small smile crack Jerome’s worrying face.
Gia took a deep breath and mouthed ‘grazie’ to Matteo, who reciprocated with a wink.
The next day, Jerome was waiting at the back door of the restaurant at six forty-five.
He spent the rest of the summer working alongside Matteo.
They forged a close bond over their love of cooking.
Gia was forever grateful to her cousin and christened him Capo.
Matteo was Jerome’s mentor, her son’s leader, the boss.
A lot changed that summer on Lake Garda.
Gia revelled in Jerome’s transformation from a moody, awkward teenager to a thriving, enthusiastic young man.
Watching him work alongside Matteo, she realised this was what he loved to do.
Academically he struggled, unlike Cosimo.
But in this working environment, he became a new person.
The pressure fuelled him and the creativity of putting together a dish seemed to fulfil what he was obviously lacking.
He became sociable, made friends and shook off that perpetual chip on his shoulder that was seemingly dragging him down.
It had been hard to follow in his elder brother’s footsteps, but now he had carved out his own path. A path that he felt he could excel in.
Gia watched Jerome working one afternoon and wondered whether she should suggest he stay with Matteo and work alongside him.
The very thought of not having him close to her, especially now, was unbearable.
Maybe she could convince Matteo to move out to England.
After they’d finished their shifts, they all sat on the terrace overlooking the lake and drank their fresh lemonade.
“I think I know what I’d like to do.” Gia directed the comment to Matteo. He widened his eyes expectantly. “I think I’d like to open a restaurant.”
“Here?” asked Matteo.
Gia shook her head and her eyes flitted to Jerome. “No, in Leeds, back home.”
Jerome shifted in his seat for a moment, then leant forward. “But you don’t know anything about the business, Mama.”
“No, but I know how to cook, and if you really like what you’ve been doing these past few weeks, maybe you should go and study it.”
“You’d do that? Open a restaurant for me?” Jerome gasped, clearly shocked.
“Would you like that? Is it something you’d like to do – in the future, I mean?”
Jerome looked over to Matteo, who had a huge smile on his face, then back at his mother as he tried to process what her suggestion would mean.
“I’d love it, Mama. For the first time in my life, I feel that I’m good at something other than sport.”
“You are.” Matteo patted his arm warmly. “For all his fiery temper outside of the restaurant, in there” – he motioned to the restaurant with his head – “he’s calm and focused. Nothing seems to pressure him, and it gets crazy in there I can tell you!”
“But I can’t run a kitchen now, Mama.” His expression tensed.
“I’m talking about in a few years from now – at least four. We need to find a premises, do some research. You can go to college and get the necessary qualifications and then, when you’re ready, we can start.”
“Why don’t you come and work for us?” Jerome turned to Matteo, unable to hide his excitement. Gia stifled a smile.
Matteo stared at Jerome, overwhelmed at the suggestion. “Well, my home is here. And there’s my family too.”
“But it would be a family restaurant; you’d be working with us. And it would mean we could set it up quickly if we already had a chef. Then, when I finished, we could work together.” Gia had never seen Jerome so enthusiastic about anything before, except for when AC Milan was playing football.
It was on that hot and sunny summer afternoon that Gia, Matteo and Jerome first hatched their plans for the opening of La Casa d’Italia.