by Billy London
“No, it’s too froufrou.”
Massimo started to laugh. “The best word I have heard in a long—”
A weight crashed into him, something cold and sharp slid into his side. Belinda was toppled over in the struggle. Massimo grabbed the face of the attacker and nearly stumbled in his shock. Arlo Vitale, the youngest. Christ, the boy was barely nineteen years old. The boy jerked his arm and the knife glittered in the lights. Grunting in pain, Massimo released the boy’s face and caught his arm as he motioned to stab him once more.
He twisted the boy’s arm violently and the knife fell to the ground. Arlo tried to run, but Massimo held onto him tightly. Pain speared from his side to his lower back. He didn’t think too hard about where he’d been stabbed or he wouldn’t be able to stay upright.
“Stay here,” he insisted quietly.
“Are you hurt?” Belinda asked, her eyes rounded with shock getting to her feet.
“No,” he lied.
Belinda turned on Arlo, catching the boy with two fists in his shirt, “Why would you do that? How dare you! He’s a father. He’s my husband!”
He fought a smile. What a time for such a victory of words with his beautiful Belinda? “Bella, sit down,” Massimo requested. It was dark enough outside that she wouldn’t see the stain of blood spreading on his coat. “Arlo Vitale, you know what you have done?”
The boy burst into tears. “I thought I had to. My father said if anything happened to him, I should blame you.”
Fair enough. “You have committed yourself to death for this.”
“You don’t understand.”
“You need to explain yourself a lot better than that!” Belinda snapped.
Arlo looked panicked. “Enzo will kill me.”
“He will not touch you,” Massimo said.
“No, because he’ll have to get behind me.” Belinda raged. “Why?”
“It’s all I’ve ever known. Get back whatever has been stolen from you. My father’s gone and you had something to do with it.”
Massimo sighed, cursing Abele Vitale for putting such nonsense in his youngest son’s mind. “If you know that, then you understand the rules. Was your father overstepping the mark when he came to my house demanding presence at my son’s wedding?”
“Yes,” Arlo whispered.
“What does that deserve?”
“Disrespect or disobedience deserves death.”
“By attempting to kill me you have disrespected my sons. You have disrespected my order. You have shamed your family more than your father did.”
“He wasn’t well. He felt angry.”
“How much time did he have left?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Arlo cried, “I wasn’t ready.”
Massimo exhaled, his mind fogging with pain. “There is never a time when you are ready to lose your parent. Why he did not spend that time with you instead of challenging me, I do not know. It matters not.” He gave a shaky breath and sat back on the bench. “Arlo, you can be a better man than your father. That is all a man can hope for his son, that he will exceed him one day. I am sorry that you lost time with him, however, your father made that decision. You know this.”
“Yes, yes sir, I do.”
“Then this did not happen. Leave the knife, go wash your hands.”
“What?” Belinda snapped. “Why wash his—” She moved Arlo out of the way and opened Massimo’s jacket. She gave a scream. “No!”
“Bella, I will be fine,” his voice sounded quiet, even to himself. “Arlo, do not let this be your legacy. Be more than this. Strive for anything and everything more than this. You will lead a better life in the end. Trust me.”
“I’m so sorry,” Arlo whispered. Massimo gave him a kiss on each cheek.
“Be better than this.”
Belinda was scrabbling through her bag for her mobile. “No, no, Bella.” Massimo forced himself to speak louder. “Go inside and get Nicholas.”
“What? He’s not a doctor!”
“Yes, but he knows those who will be discrete. Hurry now. Take the knife with you.” She got to her feet, quickly bending to collect the knife from the ground. “Make sure no one sees it. Put it in your bag. Be careful. No one in that room other than Nicholas should know anything is wrong.”
She looked ill. “If I come back and you are not conscious, there’ll be trouble.”
“Young Vitale will stay here and talk to me. He will keep me awake.” He caught the sheen of tears in her eyes. “I am here.”
Hurriedly, she bent down, cupped his face between her palms and kissed him. “I do love you,” she murmured. “So if you leave me, I’ll finish what this stupid boy started.”
“I understand,” he promised. “Go. Quick.” Massimo watched her half run back inside, then he turned to Arlo. “It hurts less if I close my eyes. But I need you to talk to me.”
“What about? I don’t know anything.”
“Why Italy has produced some of the world’s greatest footballers.” He let his lashes fall against his cheek, breathing slowly and regularly. “Go on.”
Arlo started talking about Roberto Baggio and with a smile, Massimo leaned back, the boy’s voice fading slowly away.
Belinda searched the people for Nick. Oh god, please don’t let him die. Don’t take him away from me, please. “Nicholas!” she yelled, forgetting all composure and discretion. Everyone in the room stilled. Nick came over to her, catching her arm in concern.
“What did I do?” he asked, nervously.
She lowered her voice. “Your father’s outside, Arlo Vitale stabbed him—”
His face drained of colour and without hearing anything else, he led Belinda back outside. Massimo was sitting on the bench, his head rested on the back, eyes closed. His skin looked marble perfect, waxy, as if he had lost the battle with life. Arlo had a hand over his chest, shaking him, crying. “Please wake up.”
“Arlo, move,” Nick said abruptly. “Scoparmi. Don’t do this to me again, Dad. Mina,” he turned to Belinda, “give me that cloth please.”
She unravelled the single piece of material at her waist for Nick to tie it tightly around Massimo’s wound. He extracted his phone and dialled. “Palace Hotel. We’ll be there in five minutes. Stab wound. About four inches deep, one across. No, he’s not.”
He ended the call, and heaved his father to his feet. “Mina, let’s go. My car.”
Arlo took Massimo’s other arm and hurried with them to the car park. “I’m coming too,” Arlo insisted after they carefully placed Massimo in the back. Belinda sat next to him, pressing both hands to his wound.
“I don’t care, just hurry up!” Belinda yelled at them both. Nick screeched away from the car park. They were in the car for less than five minutes but it felt like an hour to Belinda. Oh God, she was having a heart attack. “I told you you’re too old to keep doing this.”
She heard the barest murmur. A gasp escaped her throat, he was awake! “What was that? Are you arguing with me?”
“Always,” he croaked, eyes still closed. She gave a half sob half laugh as they skidded to a halt outside a strange building.
“What the hell is this?”
Nick got out of the car and heaved Massimo out as well. “We’re always in hospital so we’ve sorted a private one.”
Four men and women in scrubs met them and eased Massimo onto a gurney before they rushed into the distance. God, you have taken everyone away from me. Just not him. Please.
She would never be able to tell what it was, but as soon as the swinging doors closed behind Massimo’s head, Belinda actually lost her mind. In a red haze, she caught Arlo with fists so fast, they were blurred.
“What is wrong with you, you stupid boy!”
Nick caught her arm and pulled her away. “Mina, come on.”
“Do you know what that means?” Belinda demanded at the boy, red eyed and cowering from her rage. “It means mother. And yours should be ashamed of you.”
Nick’s voice permeated the
haze. “He doesn’t have any parents. Calm down, please.”
“My mum’s dead,” he whispered at her. “Just like my dad.”
“Then what gives you the right to take someone else’s father away?”
Arlo shook, struggling with emotion, “I wasn’t thinking. I just — it’s what I’ve been taught to do.”
“Rubbish,” Belinda dismissed. “You thought you were going to do something silly, give back your family some honour or some such nonsense.”
“I’m sorry.”
Belinda lost her mind again, slapping at him with open palms, “Sorry. Is. Not. Going. To. Help. My. Husband!”
“Jesus, Mum! Stop it!” Nick bellowed, physically picking Belinda up and carrying her into a room. “Stay there until the urge to do violence passes.” He closed the door behind him and she heard the distinct click of a bolt sliding into place. She was about to start banging on the door when she realised that not only was she wasting her energy, but that troublemaker boy, that beautiful boy who had made her Gina so happy, who had made her feel an irreplaceable part of his family, had just called her mum.
Chapter Nineteen
Nick warily watched Arlo who seemed to be having a nervous breakdown. “Sit down,” Nick directed. Arlo did as he was told, wide eyed and fearful. “Don’t move. All right? Move and I let that crazy woman out of that room and she will hurt you some more.”
“I understand,” he said, panicked.
Jesus. He pulled out his phone and saw twenty missed calls. Gina first. “Do me a favour and don’t react to what I’m going to tell you,” he said as soon as she answered.
He heard her breathe out before she spoke again. “Okay.”
“It’s Dad. He’s at the new hospital, Paul knows where it is. Grab him and Sofia. Just say you’re tired and you need to go home. All right?”
“That’s fine,” she said neutrally.
“He’ll be okay.”
“You don’t need to say that,” she sighed. “I’m coming now.”
“I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“A lot less shagging,” she said smartly. It made him grin. “Love you dude. Five minutes all right?”
“Love you more.”
He ended the call and within sixty seconds, Paul was calling him. “What happened?”
“Arlo Vitale stabbed him.” He glanced over his shoulder and saw the boy with his head between his knees, hands clasping handfuls of his hair. “Mina went nuts.”
“I’m on the same page,” Paul said grimly.
“He’s still alive which means—”
“Dad wants him to stay that way.”
“Not if I get my hands on him!” he heard Sofia yelling in the background. “How dare that little over privileged figa?!”
“Sofia, you need to calm down or you’re going in the same room as Belinda.”
“Er, why’s my aunt in a room by herself?” Gina sounded distant.
“Because she was going to beat Arlo to death. I didn’t want her to injure herself so she’s having a cooling off break.”
“We’re here,” Paul stated. The call ended and the three of them rushed inside. Once greeted, all three of them looked at Arlo, who looked back nervously. He couldn’t blame them, they’d all been here before. Third time lucky Dad, come on. Sofia began to remove her earrings.
“Mind out of the way.”
Nick and Paul both caught her mid jaunt. “No, Sofia you’re not going to do anything.”
Gina had already circled Nick and was standing over Arlo. “I’ve already lost one dad, and you’ve tried to take another from me. Why?” Arlo stared at her. Nick wasn’t entirely surprised, in her white dress and loose hair, she looked like an avenging angel. “Answer me!”
“Because he killed mine. Or told someone to do it, I don’t know.”
“Your brother told me that your father was dying. How do you know my Padre had anything to do with it?”
“He came back from your house in Italy and he was so angry. He said if anything happened to him it was Massimo Da Canaveze’s fault.”
Paul interrupted, “And you didn’t think it was your father, dying of a disease, stressing himself to get invited to a fucking party that helped him die a little earlier?”
Arlo started to cry. “I just did what I’ve been taught. Someone wrongs you, you right it yourself.”
Nick sighed, “You were taught wrong. Obviously you were taught wrong, or you’d be dead yourself.”
“Your whole family would be dead,” Paul added with typical coldness. “No one carries out ‘justice’ without speaking to the head of the family first. You know that. You believe a wrong has been committed, you take it to the top. You don’t get out a cheap fucking knife and stab someone. Not even someone, my father.” Paul gave a growl, reigning in his self-control. “You better pray that man lives.”
“Stop,” Nick’s soft command brought a standstill to the corridor. “I said it before, I will say it again. If Dad wanted him dead, the boy would be dead, believe me.”
“God, do we have to call that prick Enzo?” Paul muttered in disgust.
“No,” Nick replied, not taking his eyes from Arlo. “Not now. Let’s just see what Dad’s condition is and we’ll go from there.”
“I really am sorry,” Arlo breathed, his sincerity almost scalded Nick.
“I know you are.”
Gina, Paul and Sofia all stared at him in shock.
“He wouldn’t be here if he wasn’t.” Nick moved back to the door and unbolted it. “Mina? Are you calm now?”
Belinda’s voice sounded low and shaken from the other end of the room. “No.”
Gina ducked under Nick’s arm and folded Belinda into an embrace. Belinda was going off into peals of Fanti, pointing to the sky. Nick closed the door again, feeling that Belinda was having one almighty tiff with God.
To amuse himself while his surgeon ran through his aftercare, Massimo tallied up his scars and got lost somewhere around forty four. His mind was threatening to spill over in worry between the children, Belinda and Arlo. He interrupted his surgeon, the delightful Ms. Amelia Johnson, hoping that none of his family had given into the urge to kill the boy. “You are a very articulate young lady, but there are some people who will drive me to insanity if I do not see them immediately.”
Ms. Johnson smiled. “I understand. I’ll bring them in. I know this is your hospital, but my rules still apply. You stay where you are until I know you’re ready to leave. All right?”
“Understood to the letter. Please,” he indicated the doors and she disappeared through them. A minute later they all burst in chattering over each other, pushing one another out of the way to hug and kiss him. It was all a mish mash of ‘Don’t ever do that to us again’ and ‘I was so worried’ and lots of ‘Praise be!’
Deal with the worst first. “I am fine. Now, where is Arlo?”
That brought the talking to a crashing halt. Nick was the one who turned his head. “Arlo? Get over here.”
Hovering by the door with hunched shoulders, Arlo shuffled to the bed. Belinda put a hand up. “That’s close enough.”
“Bella,” he chided softly. “Arlo, you will see I am almost a picture of health.” He glanced around and saw that none of them had taken their eyes from Arlo. “Listen to me all of you. He made an error of judgement. It will not happen again. Will it?”
“No, I swear!”
The declaration received mumbles, Massimo didn’t quite feel that they were being sincere in letting this go. “If he intended to harm me, why was he so intent on keeping me awake? I was about to severely disagree with you on one of the footballers you named as great—”
“Dad,” Paul interrupted.
“I apologise, I digress. We could all be pulled into an endless circle of violence, where you avenge me with Arlo’s life, then Enzo decides to avenge Arlo with one of you and so forth until not a Da Canaveze or Vitale remains on this planet. I live therefore so will Arlo. I take responsibili
ty for him. I must. My actions led to this. But I cannot do so without your assistance.”
Sofia, Paul, Nick and Gina all gave exasperated sighs, turning away from his bed, mutterings of ‘This is ridiculous’ being predominant. Belinda folded her arms over her waist and looked down at her feet.
“Bella. What say you?”
“Can you all stop your moaning?” she snapped.
“Can I say something?” Arlo’s voice sounded as weak as a twig. Massimo gave him a short nod. “Do you mind if I use one of your phones to call a solicitor? I don’t think my brother will help when the police come.”
“Police,” Paul echoed in amazement. He exchanged looks with Nick then his father before a grin cracked on his cool face. “Fucking hell, Arlo you really don’t know anything, do you?”
“Well I thought...”
Nick pinched the bridge of his nose, “No one is calling the police. Why do you think we’re at a private hospital? No, Arlo, don’t answer that. My dad looks like he’s about to start laughing.”
“Police!” Massimo repeated, to a swallowed chuckle. “You know what you need Arlo? You need to be somewhere where you can grieve for your father without having to conform to whatever code you believe you have to keep to. Have you been to Tuscany?”
Arlo looked confused. “Er, no. Never.”
“Good. One of the boys will book you a flight, my brother will meet you at the airport and I will join you there once I am allowed to fly.”
Belinda cleared her throat. “What about me?”
“You are coming too. You are the voice of reason naturally.”
“What the hell just happened?” Sofia demanded.
“You know how I told you that when I was bad my dad used to threaten to send me to Ghana?” Gina said slowly, “I think this is the Italian equivalent.”
“Arlo, ignore Georgina, this is not a punishment. Here there are unhelpful influences. I wish to help you but I cannot do so without necessary support. My children will eventually forgive you but long before, I suspect, you will forgive yourself. Will you allow me to rectify my mistake?”