by Gian Bordin
I’ve just tucked in Teresa. As usual, she fell asleep while I was reading a bedside story. Before leaving her little bedroom, I watched her peaceful face for a moment and stroked away an unruly lock from her forehead, my heart filling with love for that precious girl.
The Sanvino affair is no more than a distant memory, although it turned my life upside down — mind you, for the better. I’m six weeks pregnant. Yes, it’s Silvio’s child.
On Saturday of the week that started with Garland’s confession, I took Sally on the promised visit to the National Gallery. Carlo joined us. I couldn’t tell if the girl enjoyed the pictures, because her eyes were only for my good-looking brother. He was his charming self, and I’m afraid, she fell for him.
Carlo and I had dinner at the Boltons that same Saturday — simple, nourishing English fare. Both Carlo and my father behaved themselves. The girls simply adored Carlo, and he didn’t fail to entertain them. After they had gone to bed, my father, Lucy, Carlo and I had a frank talk — a start to clearing the air between father and son. Dad assured Carlo that he would support him if he went into treatment for his drug addiction. Carlo promised to think about it. I could not expect more at that point. Although he was by then over the immediate physical craving for drugs, they still had a psychological hold on him. He though agreed to go into psychotherapy right away. I arranged for him to see the therapist my Aikido instructor had recommended. We regularly visited the Boltons at least once a week over the following two months.
Emilia took two thousand euros — she insisted she needed more money right away — signed the pledge to agree to an uncontested divorce and received Silvio’s signed pledge for another eighteen thousand euros once the divorce was granted — the change in amounts inserted by hand on the documents I prepared and initialed by both. She flew to Milan in the company of Fausto who promised to get her settled.
A week later, Silvio went to Belluno to fetch his daughter. I fell in love with that girl the moment I saw her. She was hugging the koala to her chest. She moved into my bedroom and quickly warmed to me. We were regular visitors at the Boltons. Susan and Clara loved playing with her. While Teresa made a beginning to make herself understood in English, the girls picked up more Italian. It became a game. Hearing their giggles and laughter was music to my ears.
The sentencing judge convicted Garland to one year in prison, giving him leave to apply for home detention. Gary Buxton and Bob Gough both got a nine-months, suspended term. All lenient sentences. They were banned from dealing on the stock exchange.
Carlo and I didn’t spend Christmas at my mother’s. I finally told her about the Sanvino affair. Lucy invited all of us, Teresa and Silvio included, to their Christmas meal.
Early in the New Year, Silvio, Teresa, and I went to Morcote to inspect the hotel. By then Teresa called me mamma. We also visited my mother. I don’t know whether she approved of Silvio and Teresa.
The hotel has a restaurant on the ground floor with additional tables under the arcade in front of the hotel, an open terrace off the first floor behind the house with a view to the old church above the village, fourteen guest rooms, all with built-in bathrooms, and a three-bedroom apartment on the top floor. The guest rooms needed considerable work. I managed to bring the price down by eighty thousand Swiss francs, with the current owners leaving a mortgage of eight hundred thousand at a reasonably low interest rate. All papers were signed, with the changeover scheduled for late February. I sold my apartment. Its equity plus additional funds went into renovating the six bedrooms facing the lake to a four-star rating, upgrading the terrace so that it could be used for outdoor dining, and a face-lift of the hotel façade. I changed its name to Hotel Cecilia. We did some of the work ourselves. I launched myself fully into this venture, never regretting to be no longer part of the hothouse of world finance.
Silvio’s divorce went through early March. We got married on the first of May. Fausto and his fidanzata attended. In fact, they were the first guests at the hotel when it opened the day after the wedding. They became regular customers, often spending a weekend at the hotel, and he brought other guests. It was difficult to judge whether they were Mafia or not.
The restaurant Al Silvio shot to almost instant fame as a result of two special press features that I managed to pull off, the first in the weekend edition of La Stampa of Milan, the second in a tourist travel magazine in Lugano. At least half our clientele came from Italy, many staying overnight and visiting the Casino in the Italian enclave of Campione across the lake. I developed catching Web pages in several languages with Internet booking options for both the hotel and the restaurant. It soon attracted guests, many foreign, British, German, Dutch, even a family from Sweden. Over the summer season, the hotel stayed fully booked out. The venture produced a profit almost from the start.
Our father thought that I should continue being Carlo’s main support. Carlo moved in with us and entered a treatment program in Lugano. It didn’t come easy for him, but both Silvio and I were there to lend moral support and encouragement. Whether he will ultimately get completely free of drugs is still a question. He is enrolled in information science at the University in Lugano with a generous allowance from our father.
Sally spent three weeks with us over the summer, often helping in the restaurant and enjoying it. Carlo took her on sightseeing trips. I made him aware that she was only fifteen.
My father’s family visited us in August. While Lucy and the girls stayed for three weeks, he only managed to spare a week with us, but he liked what he saw. He offered to give us a loan for upgrading the remaining eight guest rooms. We plan to do it two at a time over the winter period, when the number of guests is unlikely to be fill all rooms.
I have to close now. Silvio is coming up the stairs to join me.
THE END
Other novels by Gian Bordin:
Historical fiction:
A Summer of Love
The Twins
A Threesome
Anna, the Reluctant Courtesan
Chiara’s Revenge
Thrillers:
Ultimate Dare
Kidnapped
Science fiction:
Yuen-mong’s Revenge
Yuen-mong’s Challenge
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