Chapter 22
Teddy Bonetti was in a very bad mood the next morning. Next door there was a lot of activity going on in the empty building
that would soon be a rival restaurant. Also he’d had to tell the drivers of a builder’s van and a flash Mercedes who had parked
up on his private land to shoo. It was clearly marked for patrons of Teddy’s and it wasn’t the first time this had happened,
nor would it be the last. He’d been so distracted that he’d cocked up a batch of ice cream which had ended up more like soup.
Felicity Charlesworth, affectionately known as Flick, put up with him grumping about all morning like a grizzly bear with
an ingrown toenail, until she reached satiation point.
He was her second cousin, but she’d always thought of him as more of an uncle and that’s what she called him.
“Right, that’s it, Uncle Teddy. Be quiet or go and have a smoke outside.”
“I don’t smoke,” he said, looking at her as if she were insane.
“Well, start. You might find it helps. I thought most Italians smoked anyway.” She didn’t stop wiping down the tables as she
admonished him; she was quite capable of doing the two jobs simultaneously.
“It’s a myth. Like Nero fiddling while Rome burned and bulls hating red. And the earth is flat like a pizza.”
Flick tried not to chuckle. Uncle Teddy was at his funniest when he was on one.
His accent was a strange hybrid of Yorkshire and Ital ian, but when he was impassioned, it veered toward the latter, and his hands started flying around as if he was conducting the Philharmonic Orchestra playing “Flight of the Bumblebee.”
“Ah look, someone to cheer you up,” said Flick, seeing Marielle coming through the door.
“Good morning, love,” said Marielle, looking around for Teddy.
“He’s in the kitchen, but watch out, Auntie Marielle—he’s irato .”
“I heard that,” said Teddy. “You need to go to whisper school.”
“I’ll get you a coffee,” said Flick. She loved Marielle, and though she tried not to admit it to herself, she thought she
loved her more than she did her own mother. Her feelings for Cilla were complicated, while her feelings for her aunt were
straightforward, because she was a far nicer person. Auntie Marielle lied in the kindest way too, like making it sound as
if Flick would be doing her a favor by living in her little holiday flat when she wanted to move out of her mother’s house
because Hugo had moved in.
“Teddy, come and spare me five minutes, will you,” said Marielle, sitting down at a table.
Teddy wandered out of the kitchen, and Marielle thought as he walked toward her, How did we produce this man between us, Sal and I? He had Sal’s thick, dark hair and her blue eyes and he had the height and build of his maternal grandfather, but he was a
much warmer, kinder person. She was so proud of him, and protective. He might have been less than two years away from his
fortieth birthday, but he would always be her baby, and she was ready to fight anyone who was threatening to hurt him and
destroy what he had taken years to build.
Teddy scraped back the chair opposite and plonked himself on it.
“Okay, what have I done?”
That made her laugh. “I’m not here to tell you off. I’m here to solve one of your problems.”
“It’s solved. She’s going to university in September.”
“Oh very funny,” said Flick, giving him her best middle finger.
“I know a lady who needs a job and I think she’d be perfect.” Marielle let that sink in as she took a sip from her coffee.
“Can she string sentences together?” asked Teddy. “Because I’ve interviewed God knows how many people so far who can’t.”
“Yes, she can, quite adequately. She’s a business adviser,” said Marielle, though she wasn’t quite as sure as Sabrina about
that, but it did make her sound trustworthy and hardworking.
Teddy tilted his head at his mother.
“A business adviser,” he repeated flatly. “What would I want with a business adviser?”
“Well, there’s a reason she can’t do that job at the moment and would like something lower key.”
Teddy sat back and crossed his arms, waiting for the big reveal, because his mother was about to hit him with something he
wasn’t quite sure he’d like.
“Presently, she’s renting out Little Moon from me.” Marielle smiled at him.
Teddy’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t rent that flat out, Mum. You lend it out free to people you don’t know, who fleece you and
then run off.”
“Oh Teddy, shush, it was only one... two. Listen to me. This lady has been in hospital.” Teddy opened his mouth to close
this conversation down, but Marielle wouldn’t let him. “She has a few gaps in her memory but not about anything that would
affect her doing a job.”
“She won’t forget to put her clothes on then, and turn up naked?” said Teddy.
“You wish,” said Flick.
“She wants a job and you need some help and I can vouch for her. If she can’t do the job adequately, then you have my permission
to let her go, but I’m asking you to give her a trial run.”
“Mamma...” Teddy put on his best beseeching expression while rubbing his forehead and muttering a string of Italian expletives.
“Teddy. Hear me out.”
Marielle pleaded her case further, reminding him of how she’d helped the woman in Naples.
He listened in silence, although throughout, his expression shouted that he was convinced she was setting herself up for another disaster.
But she was his mother and he wouldn’t just turn her down for the sake of it. There was a caveat, though.
“Okay,” he said at the end of her appeal. “I will see her, but if she doesn’t fit in, she goes. Everyone has to, even someone
who cleans the toilets. Deal?”
“Deal,” said Marielle, beaming now that she’d gotten her own way. She polished off her espresso and stood up. “I’ll go and
fetch her now and introduce you to each other. No time like the present.”
She left quickly, before her son changed his mind, which was entirely possible if she gave him too much time to think.
“Are you sure you feel fit enough to do a job, Sabrina?” asked Marielle, as she watched the woman putting on the trainers
she’d been found wearing. Even if the trauma to her head hadn’t been physical, her brain was obviously psychologically impacted,
and that could cause a lot of fatigue.
“I feel perfectly fine, Marielle. I just don’t feel very smart for a job interview.” She had a sudden flash of herself in
a suit, heels, kickass red lipstick. She had a large mahogany desk at work. Granted, her present getup didn’t exactly scream
she had executive status and could turn the fortunes of companies around.
They set off out of the house and down the winding streets. “I think this might be a really good idea of yours,” said Marielle.
“He runs a tight but happy ship and he always feeds his staff well after their shift. He’s kind and calm and even-tempered...
I bet you’ll get on like a house on fire.”
Outside Teddy’s restaurant a well-dressed woman paused, let her dog take a dump on the pavement by the front door, and then moved on, pretending not to notice. But Flick, looking through the window, had.
“Teddy, she’s done it again. I’m going to say something.”
“I don’t believe it,” said Teddy, rushing to the window. “I warned her. If she does it again, I will make sure she doesn’t
do it again. Flick, out of the way, darling. Let me do the talking.” He asked his pizza chef, George, to throw him a yellow
washing-up glove from the sink, and when he’d caught it, he burst out of the front door.
“Hey, you, lady, I know who you are,” Teddy shouted at the woman’s back. She ignored him and tried to continue on her way,
but her spaniel hindered her by squatting for a wee. “And I told you what would happen if your dog did it again. So I’ll give
you to the count of three to turn back and pick it up.”
The woman didn’t acknowledge his count, but tugged impatiently on the dog’s lead and they walked on.
Teddy scooped up the poop with his glove and with a pitcher’s skill worthy of a place in the World Series hall of fame, he
lobbed it through the air in the direction of Councilor Stirling’s wife. Even he was surprised by his accuracy, because it
hit her squarely on her brunette French plait with a horrifying splat. She touched her hair to see what had been thrown at
her and screamed when she found out.
“Maybe now you don’t do it again,” Teddy called after her, wagging his dirty rubber glove at her.
“You animal, I’ll have the police on you. That’s assault,” shouted Wendy Stirling, half shouting, half retching, shaking her
head, shaking her hand.
“And it’s a fifty-pound fine for you. Every time your dog drops a poop here now and you don’t move it, you’ll be wearing it
five seconds later and I’ll make sure you pay up the money.” Teddy gave her his best smirk.
That was the moment when the two women rounded the corner, and that was Sabrina’s introduction to Teddy Bonetti.
When Sabrina walked into “calm and even-tempered” Teddy’s restaurant, she picked up on the good vibe, as if years of happy times had pressed themselves into the air and colored it.
There was a wonderful aroma of fresh coffee and the tables were all wearing cheery red-and-white coverings.
A first-time customer would think they’d made the right choice as soon as they entered; a repeat customer would feel comforted by the familiarity.
She felt as if she could be in Italy, rather than on a sunny street in a Yorkshire seaside town.
She sat down at a table and waited, looking around, taking in the place while mother and son were in the kitchen part of the
restaurant in heated conversation.
“Teddy, you do know who that was?”
“Yes, Mamma, I know exactly who that was.”
“Councilor Stirling is someone you really don’t want to upset.”
“I don’t give a toss about him. What about him upsetting me? I can’t tell you how many times his wife has done that outside.
She even has an attachment for the poo bags on the lead, but never does she pick up her dog’s cacca . I’m sure she’s trained it to do it there and nowhere else.”
He had a strange accent, thought Sabrina as she listened, mainly neutral, then it took a sharp turn into Yorkshire and then
veered off at an Italian tangent. Strange but charming.
“Teddy—”
“No, I’m right on this, Mamma. I warned her last time what would happen. And I am a man of my word. That’s how you raised
me, so it’s your fault.”
“Don’t you dare blame me, Teddy Bonetti, for splattering Mrs. Stirling’s hair with her own dog’s doings.”
There was a beat of silence; then they both dissolved into laughter and neither could get the conversation back onto a serious
plane again. Sabrina’s attention was snatched away by a coffee cup being placed in front of her by a young woman. She was
tall and slim and looked as if she could have been Teddy Bonetti’s daughter with her brown-black hair and blue eyes.
“He’s gone full-on Tony Soprano today,” she said, jabbing at the kitchen with her head. “That’s never a good sign.”
“Thank you,” said Sabrina. The coffee looked thick and strong and delicious.
“I can get you some milk if you like.”
“Thanks, but this is perfect.”
“Flick,” said the girl, holding out her hand and smiling with full lips that must have caused jealousy in other girls who
coveted such a natural pout. Sabrina thought she remembered the same happening to herself, but the memory skidded away before
she could fully appreciate it.
“Hello, Flick. I’m Sabrina.”
“It’s Felicity really, but...” Flick stuck her tongue out as if that constituted her opinion on her name. Flick suited
her; it had attitude.
Teddy and his mother had finished talking and were coming over to the table. He looked like a chef, Sabrina thought. One of
those who took his food very seriously. One of those who was on the right side of wild.
He slammed himself down on the seat opposite her while Flick and Marielle peeled off to a far table and left them to it. He
held out his hand, and it felt so much bigger than her own when he squeezed it in greeting.
“Hello, Sabrina, my mother tells me you need a job. So have you worked in a restaurant before?”
Teddy tried to see the woman in front of him as a business adviser in a suit and he couldn’t. He was expecting her to spin
him some bull and he was ready to see through it. It was the morning for cacca —dog or otherwise.
“I don’t think so,” Sabrina answered. “Did your mum tell you that I can’t really remember much?”
“She did. You think you can set tables, empty a dishwasher, polish glasses, maybe even cut some vegetables?”
“Yes, I can do all those things.”
“Hmm,” said Teddy, like Alan Sugar in the boardroom.
“You be ing here for a while would save me from having a regular turnover of useless, unreliable temps. You’d be doing anything that needed to be done, and that includes a lot of cleaning: floors, toilets.
” He had no intention of glamorizing it.
If anything, he was hoping to put her off.
“That’s great, thank you. I’d like to pay your mum something back for her kindness to me.”
The cynical part of Teddy thought she would say something like that, trying to appear plausible and sincere. He’d be watching
her.
“Okay, I’ll give you a trial,” he said. “No uniform needed, but if you’ve got something black, that would be ideal. Start
tomorrow at nine. I’ll need your bank details.”
Her expression segued into one of a pained apology and he sighed. This was already too complicated.
“Well, cash it will have to be for now. I won’t make you work a week in hand.”
“Thank you, that’s very good of you.”
He stood up, the interview at an end. He turned and walked back to the kitchen, giving his mother a look as he passed her.
In return she grinned at him.
On the way home Marielle stopped at the cashpoint and pulled out a hundred pounds, which she handed to Sabrina, who tried
to push it back.
“You need to buy yourself some clothes for work,” she insisted, stemming the protestations coming her way. “There’s a couple
of clothes shops in the center and a big Primark. You’re bound to get a few black tops and trousers there. Take it.”
She watched discomfort cloud Sabrina’s expression and thought again how utterly dreadful this must be for her. But why wasn’t
anyone missing her? She’d googled every day to see if there was anyone trying to trace someone called Sabrina Anderson, but
there was nothing.
“Come on, I’ll go with you. Let’s see what we can find,” said Marielle, taking Sabrina’s arm and propelling her forward before
she started having a bit of a weep herself.