by Helen Spring
Jennie expected Anna to laugh, but she appeared hardly to have heard the remark. 'I couldn't admit it to him Jennie,' she said slowly, 'But perhaps Clancy is right. When you decide to break the law you don't know where it will end.'
~
James made his way cheerfully along the sidewalk, happy to be going home for dinner. He boarded at school during the week, and as he grew older he felt the restrictions of school life more acutely. He looked forward to the relative freedom of the weekends, and especially his mother's cooking. His enjoyment of home life made him even more determined to win the current battle with his father, after all, he thought, I am sixteen now, not a child any more.
He bounded up the steps to the house and turned his key in the front door. As he opened it he heard the sound of raised voices from the drawing room.
James stood quietly in the hall, they were making so much noise they hadn't heard him come in. He looked around anxiously, and then remembered that Lottie had gone to her sewing bee, and the daily woman would be gone by now. James moved towards the partly open door to the drawing room, mesmerised by the sound of his parent's anger. They never argued, he could not recall them ever being angry with each other. His mother was in full flow.
'How could I have told you?' she cried. Her voice was almost a shout. 'How can I tell you anything when you cut yourself off from what is happening? You never come near...'
'What do you expect me to do?' His father yelled back. 'To carry on as if nothing is happening? As if I agree with all your dirty back street deals?'
'I expect you to be realistic,' Anna said more quietly, although her voice was steely. 'We've had over two years of Prohibition and all your prophesies of doom have come to nothing.'
'Nothing?' Clancy exploded. 'Give me strength! The woman's blind, so she is. There have been murders on the streets and gangland warfare...'
'Not near any of our restaurants.' Anna shouted back. 'There has not been a single incident. Our profits are excellent, and that is largely due to Paolo.'
'I see.' Clancy interrupted, his voice becoming intense with anger. 'And to protect your profits you are willing to risk James's future.'
'How dare you? How dare you say that?' Anna was beside herself.
James walked in. It took a few seconds for his presence to register, and then his father said gruffly, 'So you're here?'
'Yes. What's this all about? What's the matter?'
His mother made to speak, but his father held up his hand sternly to stop her, and said, 'It's about you James.'
'About me? About my not wanting to go on to University?'
'Not exactly, but I expect that is part of it.' James watched his father as he walked over to the desk. He took a cigar from a leather box and motioned James to a seat. 'Sit down James, we must talk.'
His mother stood up as if to leave, but was stopped by a stern glance from his father. 'Stay, Anna, if you please. We will get to the bottom of this.' James took a seat opposite, and waited.
His father was making a business of lighting his cigar, but eventually it was done. He looked James in the eye. 'Where,' he said carefully, 'Where have you been this afternoon?'
So that was it. James swallowed. For a moment he was tempted to lie, but then knew he could never lie to his father.
'I... I went to see Freddie's new car,' he said, truthfully.
'And then?'
'I went to Jacksons for tea.'
'With Freddie?'
'No.' It was obvious he knew.
'Who did you go with?' His father asked calmly.
'Uncle Paolo.'
His father turned towards his mother. 'You see? Uncle! He calls him Uncle!'
James felt himself becoming angry. 'Father, Paolo is my uncle... not really of course, more like an older brother.'
'A brother now is it? Heaven preserve us!' His father's face was flushed and angry. 'James, you know perfectly well what I feel about Paolo Vetti and his family, don't you?'
'I know you don't like his uncle Vittorio, but you're fond of Auntie Jennie aren't you?'
His father gave a snort of disgust. 'Don't try to wriggle out of it young man, you are well aware I don't want you to associate with Paolo Vetti, are you not?'
'But Paolo is my friend, father, he's great fun and...'
'I'm not asking for your opinion!' his father roared. 'Will you answer the question? Do you know I don't want you to associate with Paolo Vetti?'
James flushed, and looked at the floor. 'Yes father.'
'How often have you been seeing him?' His father asked.
'Not very often. I'm at school and he's very busy.'
'How often?' His father persisted.
'Well, always for my birthday, he takes me for a treat usually. And Christmas of course, and in the summer holidays.'
James looked up. His father looked quite shaken. 'This... this deception,' he said slowly. 'It has been going on for years, hasn't it?'
'It wasn't intended as deception father.'
'No? What would you call it? I suppose you thought that what I didn't know wouldn't hurt me, was that it?'
James remained silent. When he spoke again, his father's voice was scathing. 'I am ashamed of you James. You have deliberately flouted my wishes, so you have, and shown very bad judgment in your choice of friends.'
'There's nothing the matter with Paolo,' James burst out, his eyes filling with tears in spite of himself. 'You can't make me hate him just because you do.'
'Quiet!' His father roared. 'You will not see him again. Ever. Do you hear me?'
James did not reply.
'Do you hear me James?'
'Yes.' James said sullenly. The tears were now running freely and he despised himself for his weakness.
'Go to your room.' His father ordered.
James turned. His relief at being dismissed was almost overpowered by the sense of injustice. At the door he stopped, and flicked back his fair hair with a truculent toss of his head. 'You hardly know Paolo,' he said. 'How can you know what he's like?'
'Go to your room James.' His father snapped.
James tried to remember what Paolo had said to him at the teashop...You're sixteen now and can be your own man...
‘I'm going father,' he said. 'But you can't cut me off from my friends, just because you don't like them. You can't make me study either, and I'm not going to University no matter what you say.'
'As he left the room Clancy turned to Anna. 'I hope you're satisfied,' he said.
'You have brought this on yourself,' Anna replied. 'There was no need to be so hard on him, he was only being loyal to his friend after all.'
'Friend? You think Paolo Vetti is a suitable friend for our son?'
Anna sighed. 'Clancy, let us please try to talk about this without... without shouting at each other.' She came across the room and sat down opposite her husband. 'Do you remember when James was small? Paolo used to play with him and take him to the park for me? They became friends then. Paolo is a lot older than James but they have always been friends, they are very close.'
'Thanks to you.' Clancy said shortly.
'I agree with you that if we lived in an ideal world James would perhaps not be friends with Paolo. But it is not an ideal world, and James has lots of other friends too.'
Clancy's expression showed no sign of softening. 'Have you known they were keeping in touch all these years?' he said accusingly.
'I... I suppose I turned a blind eye.' Anna confessed. 'I suspected it...'
'You suspected our son was friendly with a gangster... thought of him almost as a brother... and you turned a blind eye?' Clancy was incredulous.
'No!' Anna said vehemently. 'I didn't think my son was friendly with a gangster. I thought he was friendly with a nice young man who happens to be married to a close friend...'
'And happens to have an uncle who is a gangster, a racketeer and a pimp,' Clancy retorted angrily. 'And don't say Paolo isn't a gangster, he's running cargoes of bootleg liquor all over t
his city so he is.'
Anna sighed and got up. 'If we're back to that again there's obviously no more to say,' she said. 'But be careful Clancy, that you don't drive James away completely. You have probably made him even more determined not to go to University.'
'It's all my fault now is it? Have you thought that his friend Paolo may have put the idea in his head?'
'Hardly,' Anna snapped. 'James has views of his own. Anyway, I happen to know Paolo advised him to go to College. He went to University himself you know...'
'How do you know what Paolo advised?' Clancy queried. His tone was sarcastic.
'I know because I asked him to talk to James,' Anna responded hotly.
It was a mistake. Clancy flushed with anger. 'Are you telling me you discussed our son's future with that... that hoodlum?'
'He's not a hoodlum. And yes, I did, and I'm not ashamed of it.' Anna cried. 'Can't you accept that Paolo is actually very fond of James? That he was concerned about his education?'
Clancy gave an incredulous laugh. 'I don't believe what I'm hearing...'
'Well you had better believe it. I wanted to support you in this, but you are too prejudiced to see anything clearly. I had to talk to someone Clancy, and let's face it, I can't talk to you any more.'
She left the room, and Clancy, thoroughly disconcerted, went to his club.
~
Paolo's mood was black. Nothing was simple, he reflected, no matter how hard you tried to make it so. Just when he had thought the demarcation lines were accepted, when he thought his uncle was coming round to his ideas, Tony Cavellini had to appear on the scene and begin to throw his weight around.
Paolo had thought he was making progress. His uncle was growing older, and his hold on the rackets and brothels was weakening, and added to that was the simple matter of economics. Thanks to much hard work and a little doctoring of the accounts Paolo had managed to convince Vittorio that crime did not pay so well these days, and that perhaps the risk was hardly worth taking when the legitimate businesses and the bootlegging were bringing in such a good return.
Paolo sighed as he reached the large van. He unlocked the door and climbed up into the driver's seat. He could have done without this trip, but with one driver in hospital and another running scared he had no alternative. Damn Cavellini. If he'd only waited a few months more he could perhaps have picked up some of Vittorio's business for the asking. But then perhaps not, he reflected. It was one thing for Vittorio to give up his activities in response to a reasoned argument from himself, but quite another for him to be forced out by a rival gang. Even as he considered it Paolo knew his uncle would never give in to threats. He had seen off predators before of course, but he was younger then, and Cavellini wasn't simply out for the rackets and the girls. Much as he hated to admit it, Paolo knew Cavellini's real target was the lucrative liquor business, upon which he himself had spent so much time and effort.
Paolo started up the engine. He did not want to confront the issues which now weighed so heavily on him, but he knew he must. For the first time he questioned the instinct which had persuaded him so readily to defy the Prohibition laws. He still felt that the law was wrong, that people should be entitled to take a drink if they wished, but suddenly things were getting out of hand. An incident the previous week, when a driver was beaten up, had thoroughly shaken Paolo, and he did not want to think of the consequences if Tony Cavellini decided to meet his uncle Vittorio head on. Who knows, perhaps that stiff necked Clancy Sullivan was right after all, Paolo thought, perhaps he foresaw all this mayhem, although it was not as bad in New York as in Chicago by all accounts...
Paolo grinned to himself, perhaps it was a pity that Capone had moved to Chicago after all, he would have seen Tony Cavellini off quickly enough.
Paolo drove the van towards the yard gate. There was only one thing he was sure of. When his son was born he must not be brought into this situation, he would not have the childhood his father had suffered. If Vittorio would not agree to give up all but the legal businesses, he would take Jennie and the baby and move away to a new life, anywhere... California perhaps...
Paolo swerved suddenly as a figure sprang into the road, waving. He recognised the slight form and boyish fair hair immediately, and pulled into the verge. James dashed up as Paolo wound down the window.
'Hello little brother! What brings you here?' Paolo was delighted to see him.
'Looking for you, I was coming to the yard, I have to talk to you.'
Paolo frowned. 'Alright, but it will have to be tomorrow, I have to go somewhere now and I'm late already.'
'No Paolo, now.' James opened the door and climbed into the passenger seat. 'I have to talk to you, it's important.'
'But I told you, I have to go...'
'I'll come with you, we can talk on the way.' James said firmly.
Paolo hesitated. 'It will be better not James, I shall be a couple of hours at least.'
'That's all right,' James said lightly. 'I'm not expected home until dinner.' Seeing that Paolo was still hesitant, he added quietly, 'If you're worried because you're going to collect booze, don't be. I know all about it and I shan't be in the way, I can help you load the van.'
Paolo's face darkened. 'I'm not happy about it, little brother, but if it's important you can come. It will perhaps get rid of those schoolboy ideas you have about running liquor. You will see it is not exciting at all, just rather boring hard work.'
As the van bounced back onto the road Paolo said, 'Right. Now tell me what is so important.'
James, hesitant at first, outlined the details of his argument with his father the previous evening, explaining, 'Someone must have seen us having tea in Jacksons and told him. When I got home he and Mama were having the most dreadful row. I don't think it was entirely about me, I think it was...'
'Yes,' Paolo said. 'I understand what is was about.'
'Well anyway, I told him you are my friend, and I told him I'm not going to University whatever he says.'
'What are you going to do?' Paolo asked in a conversational tone.
'What do you mean?'
'You say you are not going to University. What are you going to do?'
'I don't know really. Get a job of some sort, perhaps.'
'What sort?' Paolo asked. 'What experience do you have? Do you know how difficult it is to get work now?'
James flushed. 'I... I could do a job in our own business, after all it will be mine one day.'
'Why should your father give you a job when you have defied his wishes?' Paolo asked quietly. 'Why should he take on a sixteen year old boy, when he can choose from qualified people who will jump at the chance to work for him?'
'You don't know that,' James said sullenly. 'I don't think people will jump at the chance to work for him. He's a tyrant.'
Paolo laughed. 'You have a lot to learn about employers little brother. Your father is certainly no tyrant. He's known as a good employer, ask Jennie, she worked for him long enough. You say the business will be yours one day. I wouldn't count your chickens if I were you. Why should your father leave it to you if you defy him? If you don't go to University you won't have the qualifications you need to run the business.'
James was silent for a few moments, as the van wound its way out of the suburbs and into a dusty lane. Eventually he said, 'Father's forbidden me to see you at all.'
'Then what are you doing here, little brother?' Paolo said softly. 'Your first duty is to your father and your Mama.'
'Why are you on his side? Don't you want us to be friends any more?' James burst out, tears starting in his eyes.
'We shall always remain friends little brother, whether we see each other or not, nothing can alter that. I am on no side but yours James, but I can see your father's point of view. If I were in his place I would feel the same.'
'He called you a gangster, and a hoodlum.' James said.
Paolo pulled the van into the side of the road and stopped. After a moment he said quietly, 'Little brot
her, I think perhaps it's time I was honest with you. You are sixteen now, it is time for you to grow up. Can you take it?' His beautiful dark eyes were grave, and James had a pang of apprehension. If his father was right, and Paolo was a hoodlum, James didn't want to know it. 'Yes, I can take it,' he said.
'It is true that my uncle has done bad things... does bad things... and some people might describe him as a gangster. I don't approve of all he does and I have told him so. We have disagreements, like you and your father. But Uncle Vittorio has been very good to me, I love him dearly and could never hurt him.'
'I understand,' said James. He was not used to Paolo being serious, and found it disconcerting.
'I break the law too James. At this moment I am going to pick up some illicit booze.'
'But that isn't really wicked, everyone thinks Prohibition is stupid.'
'Not everyone James. Some people felt very strongly that it would make America a better society. Perhaps it would have, if everyone had obeyed it.' Paolo turned to face James and said earnestly, 'Because I didn't agree with the law I decided I could break it, but I'm beginning to think I'm wrong.'
'You're beginning to think... like father?' James faltered.
'When a good man like your father calls me a gangster and a hoodlum it makes me ashamed.' Paolo's voice became soft. 'You know, of course, that Jennie and I are expecting our first child?' he said.
James flushed, this was becoming embarrassing. He nodded.
'Think of it James, in a month I shall have a son of my own...'
'Or a daughter,' James interrupted.
Paolo looked surprised. 'Or a daughter, I suppose,' he said. 'I do not want my son to grow up hearing people call me a gangster and a hoodlum. I intend to leave New York, move somewhere else, California perhaps, and start afresh with my family.'
'So we shan't be seeing each other anyway?' James said, trying to mask his disappointment.
'Think of it this way, little brother. If you go to University as your father wishes, by the time you have your degree Jennie and I will have made a new life.' He laughed, and a glimpse of the old Paolo showed itself. 'I shall have a boring job in a boring place, but we shall be so happy,' he said with a flourish. 'And we shall not be breaking the law. I'm sure your father will be happy for you to come and stay with us for holidays, when we are so respectable.'