Cathy Hopkins - [Mates, Dates 07] (14 page)

Revelations

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By Friday night, I was
ready to try out my tip-top conversation skills on the lovely Luca. He called
me on my mobile at lunch-time and asked if I’d like to go over to his house that
evening.

‘Mum will be here for
a while,’ he said, ‘then she’ll go to join Dad at the restaurant and Marisa’s
out with her mates, so I thought we could watch a movie or something.’

I’d like to do ‘or
something’, I thought and almost said so, but I managed to restrain myself and
put my ‘How to be a brilliant conversationalist’ into practice instead.

‘I have to work for an
hour or so at Lucy’s dad’s shop after school, but I could come over after that.
A movie sounds great. But what genre? Sci-fi, Horror? War? Which do
you
prefer?’

Woah! Did that get
Luke going! He was off and didn’t pause for breath for five minutes.

‘Mmmm. Exactly,’ I
said when he’d finished.

‘I’m really looking
forward to seeing you again,’ he said. ‘It’s not often I meet a girl who knows
about films and who I can talk to like this.’

Bingo, I thought. Hoho
haha, yep yeppity yes.

After my shelf
stacking stint at Mr Lovering’s shop, I dashed home to get changed to go to
Luke’s. Black jeans, black polo neck, black kohl on my eyes, so that I looked
like one of those Frenchie bohemian intellectual types. I made sure that I wore
my high black boots though, so I didn’t look too brainboxy.

I was ready to leave
at the same time as Mum, who was going to pick up Dad from the station, and she
offered to drop me on her way. She wasn’t too happy when I gave her Luke’s
address.

‘What’s all this about
then?’ she asked as we followed the directions he’d given. ‘I thought your dad
asked you not to see him.’

‘I know, but you
haven’t forbidden me, have you? And anyway, it doesn’t make sense. Surely you
can see that?’

‘I guess.’ Mum
shrugged as if to say she didn’t understand Dad’s ultimatum either.

‘Don’t tell him where
I am, will you?’ I asked as we reached Luke’s road and Mum stopped in front of
a semidetached house with a neat lawn in the front.

‘Not if you don’t
want,’ she said, ‘but I think you two have got some talking to do over the
weekend. I don’t like all this going behind each other’s backs and not telling
the whole story…’

‘He started it.’

Mum sighed. ‘He has
his reasons.’

‘So why doesn’t he
tell me them?’

Mum sighed again.
‘Just be back around ten, OK?’

‘OK. Luke will
probably drop me.’

‘Well, give me a ring
if he can’t.’

Two minutes later, a smiling
Mrs De Biasi opened the door of their house, then showed me into the sitting
room. It was a Mediterranean-style room, modern with marble floors and light
sofas dotted with turquoise and sea blue cushions. I did ‘Polite Visitor’ for a
while and asked questions about the decor, how her week had been and so on,
then she went to call Luke and get us some juice. As soon as Luke came down, I
quickly asked if he had any update on the story of our two dads.

He shook his head.
‘Not really, the time hasn’t been right. There’s either been people around or,
I dunno… we don’t exactly communciate very well at the best of times and I
thought it might be weird if I suddenly asked about his past, especially if
it’s something awkward. How about you?’

I shook my head. ‘Dad’s
only getting back this evening and I didn’t think it was a question for the
phone. But

Mum said she’d make
him tell me the whole story. I’ll let him have a lie-in tomorrow then see how
it feels…‘

Luke nodded. ‘I know.
Waiting for the right time can take forever sometimes…’

Suddenly I spotted a
group of framed photos on the bookshelves at the back of the room and got up
from the sofa to go and have a closer look. One of them was of a boy, who
looked about ten. ‘Ah sweet,’ I said to Luke. ‘It’s you, isn’t it?’

‘It is,’ said Mrs De
Biasi coming back in with a tray of drinks and almond biscuits. ‘He was such a
sweetie.’ She showed me another photo of a baby. ‘And this is him as a baby.’

Luke looked really
embarrassed. ‘Muuum,’ he groaned. ‘What time are you going? I’m sure Nesta
isn’t in the least bit interested in looking at photos of me.’

I laughed. ‘Oh, but I
am. I love looking at photos and you were sooooo cute.’

‘My lovely Luca,’ said
Mrs De Biasi, giving Luke’s cheek a pinch. ‘He was so beautiful as a child. A
little cherub.’

‘Muwww,’ groaned Luke
again.

‘You like to see some
more, Nesta?’ asked Mrs De Biasi pulling out some huge photo albums out from
the shelf.

Luke went over to his
mum and put a cautionary hand on her arm. ‘No, Mum.
Please
.’

‘But I’d love to see
them,’ I said. ‘Honest.’

Luke sighed and
stepped out of the way. ‘She does this all the time. Ma, I’m sure Nesta isn’t
in the slightest bit interested.’

Mrs De Biasi ignored
him and laid two albums out on the coffee table. Soon we were sitting side by
side and she was flicking the pages, showing me photos of Luke at six months,
as a toddler, a little boy…

‘Mum has photographed
every event for every year since… the beginning of time,’ said Luke indicating
the shelves. ‘See - all that bookcase is full of her albums, photos of
relatives, friends, the milkman, the newspaper boy, everyone goes in.’

‘People are what make
life special,’ smiled Mrs De Biasi. ‘And now I am going to photograph you. It’s
not often Luke invites a girl home. Hold on, I’ll just get my camera, I think
it’s upstairs…’

‘Have you told your
mum anything about my dad recognising your name?’ I asked when she’d gone.

Luke shook his head.
‘Didn’t want to until we knew what it was about ourselves.’

‘Probably best,’ I
said and went to look at the other framed photos on the bookshelf. ‘Hey, are
all these albums your mum’s? Or is there one of your dad’s?’

‘Most of them are
mixed,’ said Luke getting up. ‘But I seem to remember that there is one of
Dad’s from when he was young. Oh right. You think there might be a photo of
your dad in there?’

I nodded.

‘Smart thinking,’ said
Luke. ‘Here. Let me find it.’

He found a tattered
red album on the bottom shelf and hauled it on to the table. As he turned the
pages, old sepia photos were revealed.

‘Old aunties and great
grandparents…’ he said as faces from another era gazed out at us. About a
quarter of the way through the book, the sepia pictures turned to black and
white, then colour, then there it was.

‘Ohmigod!’ I gasped
and pointed to a man in a photo. ‘That’s my dad.’

‘And that’s mine
standing next to him,’ said Luke.

The picture was of a
couple of teenage lads sitting on a wall outside a terraced house. They looked
about seventeen. Both had their arms round a teenage girl in the middle.

‘Shhhh,’ I said as we
heard footsteps coming back down the stairs. ‘Don’t say anything. Let’s see if
she can tell us anything.’

‘Hey Ma, who’s this?’
asked Luke, pointing at the photo. ‘Not you, is it?’

Luke’s mum came and
stood next to him and looked at the picture. ‘No,’ she said, then smiled sadly.
‘That was Matteo’s sister, Nadia Costello.’

I looked closely at
the photo. I’d seen pictures of Nadia, but not this one. I was almost named
after her. She died when she was eighteen in a car accident, which is why Dad didn’t
want me to have the same name. Nesta was a sort of compromise to keep his mum
happy.

‘And who was Matteo?’
asked Luke acting innocent.

Mrs De Biasi sat down
at the table. ‘He was your father’s best friend. They grew up together. Like
brothers they were.’

‘Did you know him?’ I
asked.

‘Oh yes,’ she said.
‘In those days, all the Italian families knew each other. We all lived close.
We were in and out of each other’s houses. We worked and played together. It
was a very close community.’

‘So how come I’ve
never met him?’ asked Luke playing it perfectly.

‘Ah…’ sighed Mrs De
Biasi. ‘They fell out.’

‘Why?’ asked Luke.
‘What happened?’

‘Nadia died,’ said Mrs
De Biasi, closing the album and putting it back on the shelf.

‘But why would Matteo
and Gianni fall out over that?’ Luke asked.

‘Matteo blamed Gianni
for her death.’

‘But why?’ I gasped.
‘What did he do?’

Mrs De Biasi sat on
the sofa and looked out of the window for a moment, then she turned back to us.
‘He didn’t do anything. That’s what is so sad. When Gianni was young, all the
young Italians hung out together, all local…’

‘Including Matteo’s
sister, Nadia?’ I asked.

Mrs De Biasi nodded
her head. ‘One night, we’d all been to a club in Soho, Matteo was supposed to
see Nadia home safely, but he’d just met some new girl. I can’t remember her
name. Oh, he was a one for the girls was Matteo…’

Like Tony, I thought.
Like father, like son.

‘He didn’t want to be
landed with his younger sister for the night,’ continued Mrs De Biasi. ‘He
wanted to go off with his new girl. Anyway, he and Gianni argued about taking
Nadia home and, as Gianni didn’t have a girl that night, it was just before we
dated, he agreed that he’d see her home. She had just passed her driving test
and insisted on driving. I think Gianni had a bit of a crush on her and so he
let her. Plus, she was a strong-willed girl was Nadia, I remember, liked to get
her own way…’ She was quiet for a few minutes and looked sad as though
remembering something painful.

‘So what happened?’ I
asked.

Mrs De Biasi let out a
deep sigh. ‘On their way home, some lunatic drunk driver ploughed into them.
Nadia was killed instantly and Gianni taken to hospital. We didn’t know if he
was going to make it as it was touch and go for him for a while. But Matteo
never came to see him. He blamed Gianni and never spoke to him again.’

‘But it wasn’t Gianni,
I mean Mr De Biasi’s fault,’ I exclaimed.

‘No, it wasn’t,’ said
Mrs De Biasi. ‘But Matteo blamed him all the same.’

‘Guilt,’ I said. ‘He
was supposed to see her home, but went off with the other girl.’

‘Yes.’

‘What happened to
him?’ I asked. ‘Do you know?’

‘We heard that he
married later,’ said Mrs De Biasi, her eyes filling with tears. ‘Had a son,
then his wife died. So sad, so much loss in his life.’

Seeing Mrs De Biasi on
the verge of tears caused tears to spring to my eyes. Poor Dad. Even though I
knew about Nadia and of course about Tony’s mum, I’d never really thought about
how it must have been for him before. And now I felt really sorry for him. It
must have been awful losing two people he was close to in such a short time.

‘What was he like when
he was young?’ I asked.

Mrs De Biasi’s face
lit up. ‘Oh he was a joy. So full of life. So charming. All the girls had a
crush on him.’ Her face clouded again. ‘He moved away, to Bristol I think.
That’s the last we heard.’

I looked at Luke. I
was dying to tell her that Dad only lived around the corner.

‘Has Dad ever tried to
contact him?’ he asked.

‘At first,’ said Mrs
De Biasi, ‘but Matteo wouldn’t have anything to do with him. I often wonder
what happened to him. Gianni would dearly love to re-establish contact and heal
the past.’

She pulled a tissue
from her sleeve and had a good blow. Then she sat up straight as though pulling
herself together. ‘Best not to dwell on the past. And anyway, why are you two
so interested?’

I couldn’t hold back
any longer. ‘Mrs De Biasi,’ I burst out. ‘I have something to tell you.’