by Monica Carly
Finally he said he was more worried about Claudia now than when she first went away. Her physical condition may have been reasonably satisfactory – although she was very thin and pale – but her face had settled into a hard expression, and she never smiled. He wished he had happier news to send, but there it was. He added that Claudia had seemed to take it particularly hard when he had mentioned baby Carlo.
Maria sobbed her misery out to Stefano. He tried to comfort her, maintaining, as before, that he had never proposed to Claudia. He said he could not understand how she had got hold of the idea.
One special day Carlo brought joy to them both. He did what every baby is expected to do, and yet, when they do, it is a miracle. He stood up and walked – first with a few, tottering steps, and then with such confidence he virtually ran across the room.
‘My son moves with the skill of a great footballer!’ cried Stefano.
From then on he took pleasure in playing ball games with Carlo, much to the delight of his small son. They would go out together into the garden and squeals of mirth soon filled the air.
‘See, bella! See how good he is. When he grows up, he will play for his country! Everyone will be so proud of him, you will see.’
Carlo continued to grow big and strong, and at five years of age was already a handsome, athletic little boy. That was when Maria realised that at long last a child of her own was on the way.
Chapter 39
When Maria gave birth to a baby boy Stefano was moved to tears. He cradled the new arrival in his arms, his face the picture of fatherly pride.
‘Now we have the start of a football team! Two fine boys in our family now!’
There was a little conflict over the name. For some reason Maria wanted to call the new baby Timothy. She couldn’t explain why, but she had set her heart on it. It was not a name that appealed to Stefano, having no Italian undertones, but he was so overjoyed to have been presented with a second son that he gave in easily.
Carlo was fascinated by his small brother, although disappointed initially that the new arrival lacked any mobility skills. But he was assured by a doting father that very soon Timothy would be running round, and they would all have a game together. Every day Carlo would enquire hopefully if Tim – as they all called him – was ready to play football yet. It was disappointing that there seemed to be little change in his small brother since the previous day, but Carlo remained optimistic that Tim would be replete with football skills any day now.
Fortunately this sad lack did not detract from Carlo’s pride in the new arrival. He boasted to his friends that he had ‘a very fine brother’, his status as the firstborn giving him a sense of superiority.
It was now six years since they had settled in Wimbledon. Carlo had started school and Timothy, who had just reached his first birthday, was an easy-going little chap who smiled frequently. He had not yet learned to stand up and walk, but he had discovered a method of moving that achieved his purposes amazingly fast. With a strange, crab-like motion he shifted himself along while in a sitting position, his bottom sliding across the floor as he propelled himself with his hands. He was quite satisfied with this, and even though Stefano tried to encourage him to stand up, he simply grinned, sat back down, and took off on his current quest.
One day Stefano came back from work to find a letter from his mother waiting for him. He was shaken by its contents, exclaiming loudly as he came to tell Maria. The news was not good. His father had had a heart attack, and was seriously ill.
‘We must go to Milano, we must visit him, before it is too late! We must all go, so that my father can see his very fine grandsons. This is what he wants, I know.’
Stefano had been back to Italy several times on business trips, but he had never suggested that Maria should accompany him. Sometimes he had gone for only a few days, and sometimes for a week or more. Maria accepted that this was a necessary part of his business, and rather enjoyed the peaceful times while he was away.
Now, as she thought about going back to Italy, she was not at all sure she wanted to go. Memories of those difficult days with his family had not completely faded, and she remembered how much she had hated not being able to understand what everyone was saying. Stefano, however, was adamant. They must all go, and they must go very soon.
Carlo, at six years of age, revelled in the experience of the flight. He sat bolt upright on his seat, craned his neck to see all he could out of the window and asked interminable questions.
But if Carlo had now shed his dislike of flying, the same could hardly be said of Timothy. He screamed loudly as the plane took off, vividly reminding Maria of that nightmare flight six years ago when she had found herself saddled with a baby. As the journey proceeded Timothy squirmed on Maria’s lap, his usual happy face the picture of misery.
Stefano ignored him, as much as he was able, turning his attention to Carlo, pointing out all that was happening as they flew through the skies. When the stewardesses came round Carlo beamed at them, charming them into producing extra treats for him.
Maria did her best to calm her distressed younger son, but although his loud cries died down, he continued to sob quietly against her shoulder. The flight was mercifully only two hours and soon they were coming in to land. As the plane began to swoop down onto the runway Timothy’s churning stomach erupted and he vomited down the front of Maria’s blouse.
‘Pooh!’ cried Stefano. ‘Stinky, stinky! Now my family meet us and we are stinky, stinky!’
The stewardess did her best to help. She came with a damp cloth and dabbed at the soiled areas, removing some of the worst of the vomit.
‘I’ll go into the cloakroom when we’re in the airport,’ said Maria. ‘I expect I can sponge us both down so it won’t smell.’
Giulia and Carmela were there to meet them. There was a noisy and emotional reunion with Stefano. Maria waited until it was over, standing back with Carlo, and holding Timothy, who had rediscovered his smile, in her arms. Giulia looked older and her hair was greyer, but the surprise for Maria was Carmela, now a beautiful young woman. Mother and daughter enveloped Maria in a warm welcome, exclaimed over Carlo and finally turned their attention to Timothy, cooing over him and generally making a fuss the way women do of babies.
Stefano was now conversing in Italian, but Maria heard the names of the boys being used, and from the look on Stefano’s face, knew he was expressing fatherly pride in Carlo; but she also saw the disdain when he mentioned Timothy. She knew, in his father’s eyes, poor Tim had rather blotted his copybook on the journey.
As soon as they had arrived at the family home Stefano went racing upstairs to see his father. Giulia suggested to Maria that she might like to have some time to wash and change and see to Timothy before paying her visit to the old man. Obviously the odour was still clinging to their clothes!
Meanwhile Stefano could be heard calling Carlo. Maria wished she could be there when Carlo was presented to his grandfather, but she accepted that Stefano did things his own way.
Finally it was her turn. With Timothy in her arms she was ushered into Gino’s bedroom. The old man cried out with pleasure at the sight of them. He insisted on clasping Maria tightly against him, a rather awkward manoeuvre as she was still holding the child. The sick man appeared to be captivated by his new grandson, who smiled benignly as the old man went into an outpouring of rapturous praise.
Once again it was Carmela who was Maria’s greatest comfort and ally. Now a college student, she had time to spend at home, and as her English had greatly improved, she was by far the most fluent in the family. This helped Maria to feel less isolated.
Stefano announced that he would be taking everyone out to lunch the next day, but after that he would need to do one or two business visits. Maria was a little surprised – she had thought he would want to spend the maximum possible time with his father, but he explained that it was necessary, while he was in the country, to attend some meetings, and in any case,
his father would be easily tired if he stayed with him too much.
The first time he went on a business trip he said a colleague would be picking him up from the house. Maria happened to be upstairs at the time, and looking out of a front window, saw that a flamboyant, open-topped sports car was parked outside. Stefano came running upstairs to embrace her.
‘You will be happy here, Maria! My family, they look after you and give you good time. Ciao!’
He kissed her warmly, and was gone. As the car drove away Maria saw long, flowing hair blowing in the wind. She asked Carmela if she knew who this colleague was.
‘That is Valeria De Luca. She work in the same business as Stefano. She is … how you say … representative?’
‘Does she live near here? Is she married?’
‘I not know.’
Maria wasn’t sure which of her questions was being answered. ‘Where are they going today? Do you know that?’ Was she imagining it, or was Carmela slightly ill at ease?
The young woman shrugged. ‘I not know. Stefano not say. He say they have important meeting.’
That evening the car could be heard zooming up to the front door and Stefano was deposited on the doorstep. He came bounding inside in high spirits, calling for Maria and his sons. Giulia came running to greet him also, so that the conversation was in Italian, and once again Maria was lost, unable to pick up anything from the fast flow of words.
It appeared that the next day they were to have another family day. A picnic was prepared, and apart from Gino, who had a nurse to care for him, everyone piled into the large family car. Both boys loved this, especially as a football was brought and an impromptu game took place in the field between father and son. Timothy chuckled at the sight of it, eagerly watching his older brother dive for balls, and laughing heartily when his father fell into a patch of rough growth. He tried to crawl towards them to join in, but Maria held tightly on to him.
That evening Stefano said that this time his business required him to travel far, and he would have to stay in a hotel for the night. Maria, her suspicions already aroused, felt her blood run cold. The next morning he said he must prepare the things he needed for the meeting, and pack them in a small suitcase. He must also take a few clothes and other necessities. Singing loudly, he busied himself putting together what he needed. He was about to take the case downstairs when his mother came to say Gino was anxious to see him before he left. He went to his father, leaving the case on the bed. Maria eyed it, just for a moment, and then, without hesitating any further, opened it.
There were no business papers inside. Pyjamas and clean underwear were neatly arranged. Something made Maria reach in and lift the clothes. Underneath them was a packet of condoms. She shut the case swiftly as she heard Stefano returning.
‘I am sorry I am leaving you for two whole days! You look after my very fine sons and soon I am returning!’
He gave her a hearty embrace and a long kiss, ran downstairs to the front door where the sports car was just arriving, and leapt in. He turned to wave and was gone.
For the rest of the time they were in Italy Maria went through the motions, longing for the day when they would return home. She believed she would feel more comfortable once she was on her own territory.
After an emotional farewell they were driven to the airport, with Stefano loudly bewailing the fact that he would never see his father again. Queuing at the check-in desk they looked up at the sound of a commotion. A woman was running across the departures hall, shouting. It was Valeria.
‘Wait here!’ said Stefano, sharply.
He ran across the floor towards her. Maria couldn’t help wondering if they would throw themselves at each other, arms outstretched, as happened in the old movies. But they stopped short of this.
Watching as the two of them exchanged a few words Maria clearly saw a letter being passed to Stefano, which he quickly slipped into his pocket. Then she saw him give the woman an Italian kiss on both cheeks, after which he returned to his family, looking rather sheepish.
‘Unfinished business?’ murmured Maria.
Unaware of the barb in the phrase Stefano nodded solemnly. ‘She brought an important message. She arrived just in time!’
‘How fortunate.’
On the return journey Timothy was much calmer. Perhaps he, too, was glad to be going home. He sat on Maria’s lap, and in a few minutes had gone to sleep, his head resting on her shoulder.
Maria hid her face against her sleeping son and wept silently. She wept for the way her innocence and trust, eroded by the hard school of experience, had given way to cynicism and bitterness. And she wept for the loss of a sister who used to be there for her, her comforter in times of depair, her support when she felt uncertain, her guide, always ready to advise during the difficulties of adolescence, and her best friend.
Chapter 40
In time Timothy did grow, his development mirroring all the natural stages of progress that Carlo had achieved, except that he omitted crawling. He was quite satisfied with his action of sliding on his bottom.
He did not stand as early as Carlo had done. But eventually the day came when he did pull himself up to his feet. Maria gasped with delight, heaping praise on him. He was the cleverest little boy who had ever lived! Grinning, Timothy set off across the room. He did not move with the same easy grace that had been natural to Carlo. There was a strange lurching, that did not stop him walking, but his steps were uneven.
Throughout the day, while Stefano was at work, Maria watched Timothy, willing him to get the hang of it properly before his father returned home, but the movement remained clumsy. She heard the key in the lock.
Maria called out, ‘Look, Stefano! Tim’s walking now!’ Summoning all her acting skills, she was careful to portray nothing but pride, but as Stefano watched, he began to frown.
‘What’s the matter with the boy? Why does he walk like that?’
They took him to the doctor, who referred them to a specialist. The diagnosis was that the left leg was slightly shorter than the right.
‘That cannot be!’ Stefano was angry. ‘How can he be in the football team if he cannot run like all the other boys?’
The specialist thought he must be trying to make a joke of it, until he saw the father’s face.
‘I’m sorry, Mr Volpe, but your son has a shortened limb. He will never walk quite normally, but there are things we can do to improve the situation.’
‘What can you do?’
Maria knew she must keep calm – one of them had to.
‘There’s an operation, which may help, but how much we shan’t know until after we have carried it out. He will probably always have a slight limp.’
‘Then operate, man, and make sure it is good! No son of mine is going to walk up down, up down like that. Do you want all the other boys to laugh at him?’
The specialist ignored Stefano and spoke to Maria.
‘He will also need to wear a tailor-made shoe that is built up at the heel. This will go some way towards helping his step become more even.’
Maria was not altogether happy about the operation, but Stefano insisted. She found it difficult to stand by while her small son was wheeled into the operating theatre.
Once Timothy had recuperated he began to walk again. Stefano watched anxiously, and threw up his hands in despair when the uneven movement, although perhaps marginally improved, was still noticeable. He stormed out, railing about incompetent medical nincompoops who did not know how to do their job. Maria took Timothy in her arms and clasped him tightly, telling him what a wonderful little boy he was.
She took him to be measured for his special shoe. Once this had been procured, and Timothy had become accustomed to walking in his new shoes, the limp was less noticeable – but it was still there.
Carlo, watching all the proceedings, accepted without question that his brother could not run as easily as he could. He knew he himself was the apple of his father�
��s eye, and could do no wrong. His self-confidence was high, and he enjoyed outdoor pursuits. Academically he was not an achiever, but his physical prowess was known among his peers and admired throughout the school. Maria was delighted to find that he was patient with his small brother, and did not tease him – at least not about the way he walked.
Stefano found it impossible to accept the situation. He would praise Carlo to the skies, but took little notice of his younger son. If he did speak to him, it was usually to mock him, or belittle him.
Timothy learned to keep out of his father’s way. It was enough that his mother adored him, and his brother would, from time to time, play with him. Despite his problems he was a happy child, without any malice. When he first went to school the other children simply accepted him, and the way he was. His good nature made him popular, and it wasn’t until he was older that he came face to face with the spiteful bullying which can make a child’s life wretched. He put up with demeaning remarks without retaliation. No one ever poked fun at Timothy if his elder brother was around.
Timothy found there were two things he could do well – the second one, in particular, raised his status in the eyes of his peers. He excelled in the classroom, having a mind that mopped up facts easily. He mastered new subjects without any great effort, consistently turning in work of a high standard. But what made him admired by his school mates was his prowess in the swimming pool. Tall and strong for his age, he could streak through the water at an amazing speed. Soon he was winning all the races, was much in demand when teams for inter-school competitions were being selected, and his cupboard of trophies grew fuller each year.
This talent helped to improve his standing slightly in his father’s eyes, but it was still clear that Stefano considered him a disappointment. As Carlo was no mean swimmer himself, Maria was delighted to find a pastime in which they could participate on almost equal terms, and it was difficult to appreciate, seeing them both in the water, that Timothy was five years younger.