Chapter 29
Teddy asked Sabrina the next morning if a ghost had appeared to his mother singing “O Sole Mio,” and Sabrina had done as Marielle
had told her to and denied they’d been the recipient of any of Pat’s revelations. Marielle didn’t want anyone to pour scorn
on what she’d been told, especially her cynical son. She wanted to hold it close to her and savor it.
That night in the restaurant there was a loud man who was impossible to please. The wine was corked, he said. He sent his
starter back, then his main, saying that his medium-rare fillet was too rare. He demanded another, cooked from fresh, and
he sent that back too. Teddy himself took the third steak out to him. “This is medium rare,” he said. “I have cooked enough
medium-rare steaks in my time to know what they look like.”
The man started eating. All seemed okay. The mains were finished with, desserts were served, and then there was a loud shriek
from his table. The man spat into his serviette; his mouth was bleeding and he dabbed at it, wincing.
“Are you trying to kill me, you bloody idiot?” he screamed at Niccolo. “Look.” He raised his hand so the whole restaurant
could see the piece of broken glass he was holding. “This was in my zabaglione. If anyone else has it, I advise you to stop
eating it immediately.”
Two customers who were eating theirs froze.
Niccolo swept them up and took them out of the way.
Flick tried to smooth things over. She had no idea how this could happen, absolutely none.
The piece of glass was too large to be missed when anyone was pouring the zabaglione into dishes.
She told the noisy man that of course his food was on the house.
“You didn’t think I was going to pay for it, did you?” he scoffed, scraping his chair back dramatically from the table. “You’ll
be hearing from my solicitors.” The woman and the other couple he was with stood also, slowly, squeezing all the theater they
could out of their leaving while the rest of the restaurant watched. On the way out, he pushed past Flick and knocked her
into a table, sending the customers’ drinks spilling.
Teddy flew out of the kitchen as if rocket-propelled and caught up with him at the door.
“Hey, you, you don’t push my staff.”
The man’s face registered incredulity on an industrial scale. “You’re worrying about that when I could have been seriously
injured? Do you realize what would have happened if I’d swallowed that glass?”
People were listening; they couldn’t help but overhear because the man had turned his volume button up to max.
“That glass was not in the zabaglione we served you.”
The man let rip with a loud, dry laugh. “I beg your pardon? Do you think I brought it in with me?”
Yes, that was exactly what Teddy thought. This smacked of the dirty tricks brigade, but proving it was a different matter.
Teddy sighed resignedly.
“Please leave your name and address.”
“I absolutely will not.” The aggrieved customer swept out into the street with his party behind him. The diners carried on
eating, but the atmosphere had changed. Only a couple lingered after coffee. They closed earlier than they had done in a long
time, and when the staff sat around the table afterward eating pizza, they were all touched by the somber cloud of awfulness
that had descended on the place.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if that were something to do with Ciaoissimo,” said Teddy, who wasn’t eating anything because his appetite wasn’t there. “ Ciaoissimo —ha! It’s not even a real bloody word.” He sighed and shook his head. “And now I have to look forward to solicitors.”
“I wouldn’t bet on him instigating legal action,” said Sabrina.
Teddy looked up. “What do you mean?”
“If it is something to do with sabotage, then he won’t want to take it further. Did you notice how reticent he was to leave
his details? What name did he book under?”
Flick got up to look at the reservations record on the reception podium.
“Jones,” she said, finding it. She clicked her fingers, remembering something. “When he rang, he wouldn’t leave a number;
he said I wouldn’t need it. So when I came off the phone, I one-four-seven-one’d and the number had been withheld.”
“Interesting,” said George.
“But not definitive proof, is it? I’ll have to sit back and wait to see if I’m going to be sued,” said Teddy, sounding glum.
“He was very loud and damaging,” said Sabrina. “I think he was a plant.”
It was a hunch but, she felt, an informed one. She remembered standing in front of an audience, giving a talk to a roomful
of people about combating deliberate attempts to sabotage businesses, such as contamination of foods, the wrecking of professional
reputations by both rival firms and individuals seeking freebies and compensation, the holding of companies for ransom.
In the car on the way home, Teddy was quiet, things obviously turning over in his mind. Sabrina presumed it was to do with
the events of the evening. When he parked outside his mother’s house, he said, “You don’t think I should be worrying about
legal action?”
“I really don’t,” she said.
And it was beyond odd that he believed her.