Cathy Hopkins - [Mates, Dates 07] (10 page)

‘And by mistake, I
served your creamed cod as ice cream,’ I said.

Mum started laughing
then, but Dad was still staring at Luke.

‘What’s your surname,
Luke?’ he suddenly asked.

‘De Biasi,’ said Luke.

Dad’s face clouded and
he turned and left the room.

This wasn’t like my
dad. Usually he was King of Charm. Even Mum looked surprised by his behaviour.
What was going on?

Old Misery

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I confronted Dad in
the kitchen the following morning.

‘But why not?’

‘Because I don’t wish
to, Nesta,’ said Dad. ‘And that’s the end of it.’

‘But Dad, you
have
to give me a reason…’

If Dad’s face was a
weather forecast, it just turned from clouds to thunder. ‘I don’t
have
to do anything,’ he said.

I know teenagers are
renowned for saying it’s not fair, but this
really
wasn’t. All I’d
asked was that Dad be friendlier to Luke in future and chat to him about being
a film director. But no, Old Misery was being, well, an old misery.

‘But Dad, all I’m
asking is that you talk to him. I felt ashamed of you last night, I really did.
I’ve been brought up to be polite to visitors and make them feel welcome. Your
behaviour was rude and for no reason.’

A loud snigger came
from the counter where Mum was peeling carrots for Sunday lunch. She turned and
looked at Dad with an amused look as if to say, ‘Get out of that one, matie.’

Dad pouted like a
sullen teenager. ‘I don’t wish to discuss it, Nesta. And for once in your life,
will you please not question everything.’

‘But it doesn’t make
sense. I don’t understand. Give me a good reason. Luke’s not a drug addict. Or
a creep. Or an alien. So why? I don’t understand why.’

‘Subject closed,’ said
Dad, then he picked up his newspaper and held it up to his face.

Mum shrugged her
shoulders and pulled an ‘I don’t know’ kind of face. I went into the hall,
grabbed my coat and headed for the front door.

‘Where are you going?’
called Mum. ‘Lunch won’t be long.’

‘Lost my appetite,’ I
said as I opened the door then slammed it behind me.

As I made my way down
the street, I felt tears sting the back of my eyes. I felt angry. And
frustrated. And upset. I got on really well with my dad normally and we rarely
argued. Why was he being so unreasonable all of a sudden? I didn’t understand.
I hate feeling like this, I thought, and I hate us not getting on at home. I
called Izzie on my mobile to commiserate. I knew she’d understand as sometimes
she doesn’t get on with her mum.

‘Maybe it’s a jealousy
thing,’ she said. ‘Fathers never like to see their little girls with boys. He’s
always been your number one, then along comes a boy like Luke to steal you
away. I mean, I know you’ve had cute boyfriends before, but Luke is
exceptionally good-looking.’

‘He is, isn’t he?’

‘Yeah. As in ding
double
dong. He looks a bit like Tony in fact.’

‘Does not.’

‘Does. In that he’s
very good-looking in an Italian kind of way. You know dark and…’

‘Oh. Do you think I’m
being all shallow and just going for looks again?’

‘Dunno. Are you?’

‘Well, I do like the
way he looks, who wouldn’t? But I can really talk to him as well. We get on. He
knows a lot.’

‘There you go then,
Nesta. Beauty and brains. What more could you want?’

‘Dad to like him.’

‘Give him time. Maybe
seeing Luke reminded your dad that he’s getting older. Who knows what goes on
in our parents’ warped and twisted minds? Maybe he’s going through the male
menopause. How did Luke react when your dad gave him the cold shoulder?’

‘Disappointed, I
think. He’d been really looking forward to talking to him about movies. I felt
such an idiot. I’d given my dad this great build up then he turns up, and
blanks Luke. He split soon after Dad got home. He knew that he wasn’t welcome.’

‘Weird, huh? Your
dad’s never been heavy about a boy before.’

‘I know.’

‘So what are you going
to do?’

‘I’m going to see Luke
right now. He told me he was working at Biasi’s today, so I’m just going to pop
in and check that he’s cool.’

‘Er, Nesta. Are you
sure you should?’ asked Izzie. ‘I mean, you’re always the first to say don’t be
too available in the beginning of a relationship. You invited him for dinner
last night and now you’re going to see him again. Might be too much, too soon,
don’t you think? Might frighten him off.’

‘Nah. This is
different. I think he needs to know that I’m on his side, not on my dad’s.
Besides, I know he likes me. Even though he left pretty fast last night, we did
have a snog at the door before he went.’

‘Out often?’

‘Ten. He’s an ace
kisser.’

‘Not a brace kisser?’
said Izzie with a laugh.

‘Nope. I was worried
about my brace at first, but it didn’t get in the way at all, and he did say to
go in and see him if I felt like it.’

‘Well, good luck,’
said Izzie. ‘And I hope your dad chills. Try talking to him again when he’s had
a bit of space. He probably realises that he was out of order last night and
will be more receptive to talking later.’

Good old Izzie, I
thought. She’s always good to chat to in a crisis. She’s sort of calm and wise
at the same time. And mad as well, if that’s possible. ‘Yeah, right, I will,’ I
said. ‘I think that’s why I was so upset, as we’ve always been able to talk
about stuff before, but this time, it was like he put up a brick wall.’

The atmosphere in
Biasi’s was brilliant. The place was packed and buzzing with lunch-time diners
and, although Luke was busy serving people, I could tell that he was pleased to
see me.

‘I’ll catch you on my
break in about fifteen minutes,’ he said as he directed me to a bar counter near
the till where a large, glamorous, dark-haired lady was sitting with a glass of
red wine.

‘Mum, this is Nesta,’
he said.

His mum was great.
Within minutes she was telling me all about her family, and the village in
Italy she came from, and the house that they have there where they grow olives
and herbs and make their own pesto. When I told her that I was half Italian,
she treated me as if I were a long lost relative and insisted that I have the
recipe for their pesto along with a sample jar. After ten minutes or so, we
were joined by a very suave-looking older man with silver-grey hair.

‘Dad,’ mouthed Luke
from the other side of the restaurant. He didn’t need to tell me. I could see
immediately as they were the spitting image of each other.

Like Mrs De Biasi,
Luke’s dad was very friendly and charming. He insisted that I have a drink on
the house and sample the olives and freshly baked bread while I waited for
Luke.

As I sat there
munching, Marisa came out of the kitchen in the back carrying a birthday cake
with loads of candles. Complete pandemonium broke out as Mr and Mrs De Biasi
led the waiters with trumpets and tambourines in a chorus of ‘Happy Birthday’
sung to a white-haired old lady who was dining with her family. I felt so at
home and it seemed that everyone who came into the restaurant felt the same
way. Most of the diners knew the De Biasis personally and Mrs De Biasi relished
filling me in on all sorts of gossip and who was who and who did what.

Luke came and sat with
me in his break and his mum and dad made themselves scarce, but not before his
mum gave me a huge wink.

‘I really like your
parents,’ I said. ‘Meeting them makes me feel extra bad about last night and my
dad. He’s not usually like that.’

Luke shrugged. ‘Maybe
he wasn’t feeling well. Another time. In fact, bring your mum and dad down here
for a meal. As you can see it’s pretty informal and relaxed around here.’

‘That’s a great idea,’
I said. ‘Dad’s bound to love it. I mean, he
is
Italian. He loves good
pasta. He’ll love the atmosphere in here and so will Mum.’

‘Any time,’ said Luke.

I glanced over at his
dad. ‘Your dad seems really nice and approachable. Why don’t you try telling
him about wanting to act.’

Luke put a finger up
to his mouth as if to hush me. He indicated a few of the other waiters and
waitresses busy rushing about dealing with the Sunday lunch crowd. ‘I have
tried, believe me. But see the staff. A few of them are actors. Like William
over there, he hasn’t worked since last year…’

‘I thought I
recognised him,’ I said. ‘He was in… oh, I can’t remember the name of it, a
soap on ITV?’

Luke nodded. ‘Yeah.
His face was everywhere, but since then nothing has come in.’

‘Yeah, but he was,
like,
really
famous. I’d have thought producers were queuing up for
him.’

Luke shook his head.
‘He says that so many of his actor friends are resting. Basically that means
out of work.’ He pointed at a girl with short red hair busy carrying plates of
tiramisu. ‘That’s Sophie. Also an out of work actor. See, Dad gets to see so
many of them here as they come and ask for work whilst they’re in between jobs.
He doesn’t want that for me.’

‘But hasn’t that put
you off?’

‘Nope. I understand
that you don’t get every job and that there are periods when you don’t work.
I’m not under any illusion that you become an actor and, hey presto, everyone
wants you. No. I will help out in Dad’s restaurants, it’s just… I don’t want it
to be my whole life. My only career. Acting will always be my number one, but
I’m well aware that you have to have backup as well.’

What he said made me
think. Dad was always saying the same thing — that work in the media often
meant feast or famine, our family had enough experience of it ourselves, but I
hadn’t related it to myself before and thought about a backup career. I’d just
presumed that it would be different for me, that I’d have loads of work when I
hit the stage, but maybe it wasn’t going to be as easy as that.

‘So you see why Dad
isn’t that enamoured when I tell him that I want to be an actor when I leave
school?’

I nodded. ‘Yes, but I
guess it’s because he cares about you. Wants you to be secure and all that…’

‘Yeah. But I want to
be happy as well.’

‘Dads, huh?’

Luke nodded. ‘Yeah. A
pain.’

‘Yeah. But it’s not
usually a pain with my dad. He’s great most days. In fact, I’m going to go home
and have it out with him. And I think you should with your dad, too.’

‘Yeah, right,’ said
Luke. ‘How about you go with yours first and you can tell me how it went next
Wednesday.’

Mum, Dad and Tony were
just finishing lunch when I got home over an hour later laden with presents.

‘What’s all this?’
asked Mum as I emptied my carrier bag out on the kitchen table.

‘Cool,’ said Tony as
he picked up a packet of almond biscuits.

Mrs De Biasi had given
me a huge Panettone, biscuits, jars of anchovies, a bottle of olive oil, ajar
of pesto.

‘From Luke’s mum,’ I
said. ‘She’s amazing. When she found out that I was half Italian, she wouldn’t
stop giving me things. I tried to refuse, but she insisted, saying that it was
all from the restaurant so not expensive. And Mr De Biasi said that I must
bring you all there.’

Dad looked up from his
plate.

‘Look Dad, all your
favourites…’ I continued.

‘So you met Mr De
Biasi?’ interrupted Dad.

‘Yeah. He’s really
nice. You’d really like him. He’s very handsome like you. Luke’s mum’s very
good-looking as well. Glam in a Sophia Loren kind of way. So when shall we go?’