Chapter 23
23
DARIO
Dario did a final round of the restaurant, checking that everything was in order for the celebrations tonight. He didn’t miss the irony of the fact that he had never felt less like celebrating. His son was working in the kitchen, and refusing to even engage in a discussion with him. And right now, his dad was sitting alone at a table over by the window, having his favourite meal of pollo alla cacciatora, even though he said every time that it wasn’t as good as Alicia used to make it. Dario chose never to pass that feedback back to Chef Matty.
It struck Dario how frail his father now looked. Since he was a child, he’d viewed his dad as this irrepressible, joyous force of nature, the very essence of life itself, but now, to see him over there, he was a shadow of his former self. It was as if, when his mother died, she’d taken Gino’s soul with her, leaving the outer shell of the man, but not the passion for life that fuelled him.
It broke Dario’s heart. Not for the first time, he wondered if he was looking at a snapshot of his own future. Alone. In Dario’s case, it would feel like every chance for a normal life had been sacrificed, albeit for a job that he loved.
‘You look deep in thought there, fratello, ’ said a new arrival, who had just come in the door.
Despite everything that was weighing him down, the sound of Carlo’s greeting made Dario smile. Fratello . Brother. Carlo was the baby of the family, the surprise, born eighteen years after Dario, and stereotypes would say that he should be a little spoiled or indulged, but the truth was far from that. Like Dario, he had worked in the restaurant from when he was old enough to wash a dish without breaking it, and he’d been a natural. For many years, it was truly a family business, with Gino and Alicia running the show, Dario in the kitchen and Nicky, Carlo and Bruno out on the floor. It was the best of times… but times changed. Death. Divorce. Leaving for faraway shores. And in Carlo’s case, breaking off to set up on his own, but with his family’s blessing.
Even after only a few years, Carlo’s Cafe, over by Glasgow Central Hospital, had already gained a reputation as one of the best eateries in the city. It had a consistent flow through of hospital staff, families of patients, tourists. Unlike the city centre, it didn’t come with crippling rates and a reduced footfall, and unlike Gino’s menu, which, on his dad’s insistence, had barely changed for decades, Carlo had a far more flexible approach, allowing him to work round seasonal price hikes. It had been a great move by his fratello and Dario respected him immensely for it.
Dario hugged him, then grabbed two bottles of Messina lager from the bar and beckoned Carlo to follow him.
In the office, Dario sat in his usual chair, while Carlo flopped down on the couch.
‘I want brother of the year award for working here tonight,’ Carlo joked, although they both knew there was nowhere else he would even dream of being. It had been their dad’s one request when Carlo left here to open his own place – that he come back to work with them every Hogmanay. Carlo had never missed a shift, closing his café early on this day every year, and then reporting for duty with his family.
‘You always have brother of the year award with me. Just don’t tell Bruno, because I say the same thing to him.’ Dario took a sip of his beer. ‘How’s Yvie doing? Still telling you that you work too much?’
‘Every day,’ Carlo chuckled. ‘But I wouldn’t change it for anything.’
‘I hope you tell her that, bro. Takes a lot of patience to be in a relationship with people who graft like us and sometimes we don’t realise it. At least, I didn’t. And look what happened.’
Dario noticed Carlo’s quizzical glance, which settled into a curious frown. ‘Okay, what’s happening, Dario?’
Sighing, Dario put his bottle down on the table. ‘You remember a few months ago I told you how financially rough things were here?’
‘Yeah. I’m gutted I couldn’t help you out, but we’re still paying off our start-up loans and the cash just isn’t there yet. But if you could hold on for another year or so, I should be able to…’
Dario put his hand up. ‘There’s nothing left to hold on to, Carlo.’
For the third time today – first to his son, and then to his father – he laid the whole thing out. The debts. The costs. The end of the line. And he watched Carlo grow paler with every detail of the story.
‘Oh Jesus, Dario, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realise it had got this bad. Dad must be devastated.’
‘He is. But he’s pissed off with me too.’
‘But why? You’ve worked your ass off to keep this place going.’
Dario gave that a nod of acknowledgement and appreciation. ‘I know, but he wants to keep going. Hope for a miracle.’
‘They’re in pretty short supply in our business,’ Carlo said, now looking as helpless as Dario felt. ‘Sometimes no matter what you do, you have to take the hit and move on. How bad is it going to be?’
‘That’s the thing… There’s a solution, but Dad doesn’t like it. Neither does Matty.’
Dario went on to explain the offer from the American developers, told him what they’d get out of it and what it would leave them with. A clean slate. Money in the bank. Enough that Dad would never have a day of worry.
‘I’ve got until midnight tonight to accept or decline, and if I knock it back, I’m not going to get another shot at it because they’ll move on to something else.’
‘Fuck,’ Carlo said, blowing out his cheeks as he sighed. ‘Maybe for the first time ever, brother, I don’t want to be you.’
Dario was about to reply when a knock at the door interrupted them.
‘Come in,’ he shouted, figuring it was probably one of the staff, probably looking for change for their till float, or maybe keys to the cellar to change a beer barrel.
He was wrong on both counts.
His best mate and lawyer, Brodie, joined the party.
‘Hey,’ he greeted them, Dario first, then Carlo, with one of those shakes of the hand that morphs into a hug.
Dario passed over his bottle of beer and Brodie took it without question. They’d been sharing drinks, food and secrets for a million years, so this was nothing out of the ordinary.
Brodie displayed the intuition that had made him one of the city’s top lawyers, by reading the room perfectly. ‘You’re talking business?’ His comment also displayed the kind of discretion that had made him one of the city’s top lawyers.
Dario nodded wearily. ‘Yeah. Spoke to Dad today and finally got him to listen to the whole story. He’s a definite no. Told Matty too – he was a definite “no fucking way”.’
Brodie was in gentle lawyer mode. ‘Don’t they get that this is the Hail Mary? It’s this or you close the doors with nothing, because we both know that you’ve only got enough cashflow to last another couple of months. Look, I’ve got no skin in this. I’m not taking a fee and there’s no vested interest, but I’m just acting as your mate here. You tell me to take the deal, I’ll take it for you. You knock it back, I’ll do everything I can to help you find another way.’
As always, it was the kindness that hit Dario square in the chest. Problems he could deal with. And he would face any fight. But love and kindness? Touched him every time. That was in the DNA stream that came directly from his mother. ‘I appreciate that, Brodie.’
‘Any time.’ Brodie turned to Carlo. ‘What do you reckon, Carlo? Any words of wisdom, because we’ll gladly take them.’
Carlo leaned his head back, thinking. ‘Look, I can help with your staff, find them jobs where I can…’
‘I might need to take you up on that. I promised Sonya that somehow we’d keep her on.’
Carlo’s face creased into a grin. ‘Now you’re talking. You know she’s my favourite woman on the planet after Yvie. She once bollocked one of my teachers for giving me detention. Told him he was a fascist and that she’d be reporting him for being a dick. She got removed from the school, but it was worth it.’
It was the light relief they all needed.
Carlo went on, ‘And if this is about Dad having a purpose, you know he is always welcome to come hang out at my place. I guess it’s not the same, but the customers would love him.’
Dario didn’t want to say that he didn’t think that would ever happen. This was Gino’s spiritual home, it was part of his soul. That was the problem. It was so much more than bricks and mortar.
‘And the deal? Yes or no?’ Brodie asked Carlo the direct question. His mate had known his brother since he was a kid, so it was pretty cool to see that he valued his opinion.
‘I’d bite their hands off. It’s a no-brainer to me. But then, I’m not Dad.’ Carlo stood up. ‘Listen, I’m going to go check on him, see how he’s doing. The tables will be starting to fill, so I’ll keep everything going while you two speak. And, Dario, whatever you decide to do, I’ll back you.’
Dario thought how proud his mum would be to see the guy that her youngest son had become. ‘Thanks, bro.’
As the door closed behind Carlo, Brodie put his beer down on the desk. ‘How are you holding up? I’m so sorry you’re dealing with this shit.’
‘Me too. Thing is, I know there’s only one answer, but I just need to think some more before I pull the trigger.’
Brodie stood up. ‘I get it and there’s no rush – we’ve got a few hours before the deadline. I’m going to get out of your hair and let you get your head round all this. Just give me a shout when you’re ready to make the call.’