Chapter 18
EIGHTEEN
CARMINE
Carmine stared at his phone, which he’d left in full view. He would be pissed if he got a call and, for some reason, it went straight to voicemail. Far safer to keep it within his eyeline.
It was now mid-afternoon and nothing.
He was playing about with some designs for the potential new restaurant Raoul had his eye on. La Piazza had opened decades ago, which meant they’d had to squeeze in new technology such as the massive dishwasher that Stefano was unnervingly proud of.
He was proud as punch that all three Amato men would be working on a project together. Poor Raoul would never get to be the boss.
Not that they would neglect La Piazza. That place was woven in the fabric of their family. Raoul could handle both as well as their father pecking his head.
Carmine chuckled to himself.
And I thought I had problems.
That instantly reminded him that he actually did. He picked up his phone and checked it.
“Fuck’s sake,” Samantha said. “I thought you said no phones in the office?”
“I use this for work as well.”
“Hypocrite.”
“I’m the boss. I’m allowed to be.”
Samantha stared at him. He had to admit he’d been like a bear with a sore head ever since he’d come into work that morning. He also had no intention of discussing the previous evening with her. As the hours passed, his anxiety became overwhelming.
“Talk,” she said.
“There’s nothing to say.”
She steepled her fingers.
“I’m waiting.”
“Fine,” he replied. “Noah and I had a bust-up.”
She frowned. “What about? Aren’t things rosy in the garden of love?”
“I don’t know if there’s a future. There’s too much working against us.”
“Such as?”
Cracking under the pressure, Carmine relayed the events of the night before. Samantha listened in silence. Which was a major feat for her.
When he’d finished, Carmine exhaled.
“And he’s not called?”
“Obviously not.”
“Okay, Mr Snippy,” Samantha replied. “You’ll have to be the one to blink.”
“No chance.”
Samantha shook her head. “Remind me which one is behaving like a child?”
He threw a paperclip at her.
“It’s serious,” he said eventually. “How can I be with someone who withholds huge parts of his life? And don’t start going on about my family.”
Samantha threw her hands up. “I wasn’t going to say anything. You know me. Never had an opinion in my life.”
Silence descended on the room. Carmine could hear noise from the street outside.
Everything was closing in on him. He hated arguing with Noah.
Yet, he remained convinced he needed to take a stand.
He wouldn’t be in a relationship where he had to constantly bite his tongue but Noah was allowed to discuss their business with all and sundry.
“Anyway, I’m going to sort my family out.”
“When?”
“Today. I’m going over to show them the designs. Just me, Mum and Dad. Once I’ve told them, I’ll go to Raoul. Then it’s all out in the open.”
“Do you think that will entice Noah back?”
Rage erupted inside him. “I’m not doing it for Noah Farman. I realised last night that I’m being unfair to my family. They don’t know me. The real me, I mean.”
“It’s a big move.”
Carmine nodded. “Well overdue. Surely you think I’m right?”
“Of course I do. Monica said that she’s convinced they’ll be okay about it.”
Perhaps he should draft her in. There was safety in numbers after all.
“Where is she?”
“In London with work.”
Damn.
“You can do this alone,” Samantha said. “These are your parents.”
She was right. Even so, he was absolutely terrified.
“Then will you call Noah?”
Carmine shook his head. “He knows where I am.”
Samantha sent the paperclip sailing across the desk to him.
“You are ridiculous,” she said. “You won’t get anybody better than him. I hope you realise that.”
Carmine digested her words. They did have a ring of truth around them. Perhaps he would take the higher ground and contact Noah. This had gone on long enough.
He wouldn’t be admitting that to Samantha for the foreseeable future.
I just hope he answers.
As he walked from Brockton station to his parents’ house, Carmine took in the buildings, which were as familiar to him as the back of his hand. Of course, the ownership had changed over the years. The buildings remained the same.
The video rental store where he’d got all his movie fixes was now a phone repair shop.
The sweet shop that his mother would give them all spending money for had been replaced by a cheap bakery.
Even the Woolworth’s where he’d built his CD collection had morphed into a chrome and mirrored bar advertising cheap drinks.
The high street was definitely under threat.
That’s what made it so remarkable that La Piazza had weathered these storms. It was a testament to his father as host. The food, of course, was spectacular.
Mainly people came for Stefano and his witty banter.
He had the unique ability to celebrate every customer.
Whether a rich footballer or people who’d saved up to have a night out.
Raoul worked hard at it. Monica told Carmine that Raoul kept a database to remember facts about all their clientele. It was a decent idea yet Stefano held that information in his remarkable brain. He was a natural.
Carmine turned onto the road he’d spent the first twenty years of his life. Each house had four storeys. When they’d moved in, Stefano had declared he’d never leave and so far, he’d remained true to his word.
Of course, their mother dreamt of a cottage in the countryside. Stefano wouldn’t hear of it. How could he relate to his customers if he wasn’t among them?
It was a convenient excuse. His father was also exceptionally tight-fisted. The thought of spending his hard-earned cash on a big house would literally keep him awake at night.
Halfway down was the Amato family home. A building that had signified safety for all of Carmine’s life. Now he felt only dread as he put his key in the lock.
Was all this about to change?
“Ciao,” he shouted as he came through the door.
“Darling,” his mother called. “We’re in the kitchen.”
Of course they were.
He hung his coat on the banister and went through. His parents were sitting at the vast dining table. They appeared to be doing a jigsaw.
Carmine frowned.
“What’s going on here?”
Stefano threw a piece down. “Your mother is trying to get me to relax.”
Maria got up and hugged Carmine. He drank in her scent. It reminded him of so many times gone by.
“It’s not working,” she said.
“If I want a picture of a bloody horse, I’ll buy a picture of a bloody horse,” Stefano grumbled.
Carmine stifled a smile. He allowed his mother to force him into a chair before she busied herself making drinks and plating up treats she’d been hard at work creating.
I can’t do it. I can’t risk it.
“What is the matter?” Stefano asked. He’d been watching Carmine intently.
“Nothing. Working hard. Which reminds me, I’ve brought my laptop. Do you want to see the plans?”
Stefano shook his head. “Raoul should get first look. This will be more his baby than mine.”
Maria laughed. “As if you’ll leave the poor boy alone for five minutes.”
The wry smile on his father’s face suggested she’d hit bull’s-eye.
“You’ll have to find something more entertaining to keep me at home than a jigsaw.”
“Is that right?”
They still flirted like teenagers. Even if it turned Carmine’s stomach, he was glad they were so much in love.
“I came all the way to show you them,” he complained.
Stefano shrugged. “Then we’ll get your brother over. Where did I leave my phone?”
“I saw it on the drawers in our bedroom,” Maria replied over her shoulder.
His father got up.
“No sneak peaks,” he said, pointing to Carmine. “I mean it. Raoul has worked hard. He deserves his moment.”
“Listen, before he comes. Well, there’s something I need to talk to you about.”
Stefano frowned. “That sounds ominous. Maria, stop fussing with that. The boy wants to tell us something.”
Maria walked over. She wrapped her arm around Stefano’s waist and snuggled into his side.
“What is it, tesoro?”
Carmine’s heart raced. He’d reached the edge of the diving board. The time to jump had arrived.
“It’s about me and it’s going to change the way you see me.”
“Never,” Stefano replied.
“Let him speak,” Maria chided, gently tapping his belly. “Go on.”
“It’s just…well…I’ve never really seen the need to tell you. With me living in California and you here.”
Stefano tutted. He still resented the west coast of America for stealing his son away.
Before Carmine uttered another word, the outside door banged open.
Bloody Raoul. Bugger off.
“I saw you walking down from the station,” he said breathlessly. “You’d better not be showing them the plans before me.”
Typical.
“Dad was about to call you,” Carmine fired in return.
He’d been sharp but the timing couldn’t have been worse.
“Come on then,” Raoul replied, seemingly oblivious.
He took a seat next to Carmine before noticing his parents staring at his brother.
“Did I interrupt something?”
“Carmine has something to tell us,” Stefano replied.
“What?”
“Never mind. Let’s not worry about it now. Today is all about the plans.”
Stefano shook his head. “It’s been more of a madhouse since they moved out. Where are my glasses?”
Maria extracted herself from her husband. “Next to your phone.”
“Bloody hell,” Stefano grumbled. “Give me a minute.”
He stomped off up the stairs.
Carmine caught his mother still watching him.
Worry etched on her face. Had she known what he was about to say?
Surely she’d suspected something over the years.
His obsession with Beyoncé? His insistence at dressing like Scary Spice for the Brockton Working Man’s Club Christmas party?
His close friendship with Darren from school?
It appeared that the moment had passed for now. He was staying the night, so he’d broach it later once Raoul had gone. There was plenty of time.
Suddenly there was an almighty crash from upstairs.
“Dad!” Carmine shouted.
Wordlessly they all ran up the stairs to find Stefano in a heap on the floor of their bedroom. He was white and unconscious.
“Stefano,” Maria cried. “No.”
She fell to the floor and took her husband’s hand. Raoul seemed frozen in the doorway, his eyes fixed on Stefano.
Carmine snapped to attention first.
“Mama. Is he breathing?”
She peered and nodded.
“Meno male,” she cried. “Stefano. Can you hear me?”
With a shaking hand, Carmine got his phone out of his pocket.
He dialled 999 and glanced at his brother. He looked terrified. Carmine reached out and took his hand.
“He’ll be fine. He has to be.”