The two men laughed together.
Georgio looked serious as he said, ‘One last thing, Ricky. Don’t let on to anyone by thought or deed what Hall or his mate are. We want this to come as a complete surprise to all concerned. You can bring your posse in on it on the day, not before, OK? If the screws get wind we’ve sussed them out, they’ll be moved off here like lightning.’
‘You know what young Benjy Calls them, don’t you? Beavis and Butthead.’
Georgio sniggered. ‘That sounds about right to me. But promise me you won’t call the shots till the day?’
Ricky smiled nastily. ‘Don’t worry, Greek boy, no one will know a thing until I deem it necessary.’
Maeve, Pa and Mario were setting tables in the restaurant for the evening’s business. They worked in companionable silence. Pa had put the finishing touches to the linen napkins and stepped back to survey his work. Even though by daylight the restaurant looked shabby, in the muted light of evening it felt cosy, the deep red lampshades on the wall lights giving it a feeling of warmth.
‘In the New Year, we ought to think about a redec.’
Pa nodded slightly.
‘What do you say, Mum?’
Maeve stretched upwards, her back creaking painfully. ‘Jaysus, I could do with one of those meself! But you’re right, Mario. The place is getting a bit too shabby, even for us!’ She laughed as she spoke. A thick, false laugh.
Mario and Pa stared at one another for a few seconds and she watched them, watching her. Pa sighed and led his wife to a chair by the-small bar area.
‘Come on, Maeve, out with it. What’s wrong with you?’
She shrugged. ‘Everything. Honestly, Pa, you know what I’m like. Ignore me. I’m up to ninety today what with one thing and another.’
She looked into his broad, honest face and felt a wave of love wash over her. Pa Brunos was a good man, a basically honest and kind individual. How had he sired Georgio and Stephen? Stephen especially. Mary was all right, even if she was a bit of a snob, Nuala was a mouthy bitch, but she was a good girl all the same. Even Mario, the apple of her eye and as queer as a two-bob clock, was all right in his own way. Patrick was as honest and boring as the day was long, so where did they get Stephen and Georgio?
‘Come on, Maeve, we’ve been together too long for a charade like
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them this to continue. There’s something worrying you. Tell me, woman. Tell me what it is.’
‘Oh, it’s everything. Georgio is in prison, Stephen is getting me down. I don’t trust the bugger. Then those bloody big galoots the other week, trying to put the frighteners on us, all over fecking Georgio again. And I’m worried about Donna. She went to Scotland that time. Now I find out off Dolly that she’s pissed off on holiday! Holiday, if you don’t mind. Her husband’s doing eighteen Christing years and she’s off on her hols while we haven’t even the money to put a bit of paper on the walls in here. That’s what’s making me down, Pa. Just that. Oh, and the fact that Stephen is a whoremaster, Georgio is not as white as he likes everyone to think, and Nuala is still seeing that fecking villain of hers. It seems we brought the lot of them . up wrong.’
Pa put a thick muscled arm across her shoulders.
‘We brought them up, but they’re adults now. They make up their own minds. We can only pick up the pieces and help them when it goes wrong. This ain’t like you, my fiery little Irishwoman! Where’s the fighter gone, the woman who could take on the world, eh?’ He was smiling at her, trying to cheer her up, she knew that. She appreciated the effort he was making but nothing could cheer her. Nothing.
She answered him in a flat voice. ‘She got old Pa. As old as the hills.’
Mario and Pa watched her walk from the restaurant, her back stooped, her feet barely leaving the floor. She looked defeated.
Pa stared at Mario, tears gleaming in his eyes. He shook his head slowly.
‘She’ll get over it, Pa.’
He wiped a tear from his eye. ‘Will she? Will any of us?’
Mario didn’t answer, because he didn’t know what to say. Instead he followed his mother up into the flat. Maeve was sipping a cup of tea and smoking a cigarette.
‘Where’s Donna gone on holiday then?’
Maeve lifted her shoulders and shook her head.
‘I don’t know. Dolly said she hadn’t told her, but she knows all right. There’s not much slips past that nosy old bitch.’
Mario sat at the small kitchen table and poured himself out a cup of tea.
‘You know, Mario, it’s funny, but I was just thinking about you all, when you were kids. I tried to decide if there was any way I could have foreseen how you’d all turn out.’
‘Mum, you brought us up, but as me dad says, we’re grown now
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and we make our own decisions, lead our own lives. It’s nothing to do with you or Pa. Like me, for instance, I’m sorry that I can’t like girls.’ He smiled gently. “I’ll rephrase that, shall I? I do like girls, but only as friends.
‘I know my being gay breaks your heart and I’m sorry, Mum. Sorry to the core of me, but I am what I am. Do you know, there’s married men who come to a club I go to. They have lived a lie for years. There’s women out there with husbands, having no idea that their men are gay. I am your son, Mum, but I am what I am. I’m not going to make excuses for myself and I certainly don’t want you to make them for me. If only I had done this, or if only I had done that … All that talk is shite, as you would say. I am what I am and Georgio is what he is because it’s the paths we chose.’
‘And what about Stephen?’
Mario took a deep breath before he answered her.
‘Stephen? Well, while we’re being so honest I’ll tell you what I think about him, shall I? I think that out of all of us, he’s the one you should be worrying about because he’s bad, Mum, rotten bad. Inside and out.’
Maeve looked into Mario’s handsome face and for the first time in months his sexual preferences didn’t cloud her judgement of him. Instead she saw him as another woman or man might see him: good-looking, accomplished, intelligent.
She grabbed his hand and held it tightly between her own. ‘You’re right - he is bad. Putrid, rotten.’ She closed her eyes for a second, to pull herself together. Then she said brightly, ‘But you know, you’re a son a woman could be proud of. Even if you are a nancy boy!’
It was said in jest and Mario smiled widely at his mother, the biggest love of his life. “I’m sorry, Mum. Truly I am.’
Maeve stroked his cheek with a workworn finger. ‘Don’t be, Mario. You do what you feel you must. Whatever you want to do, I’ll back you to the hilt.’
Mario felt as if his chest would explode with the love he felt for the tiny woman before him. Standing up, he left the room, unable to trust himself not to cry. Maeve watched him go, feeling much more settled inside herself at their open admission of his sexuality.
In his room, Mario opened his briefcase and took out a telephone book. He dialled a number on his mobile and when it answered, he said, ‘Hello, Pierre? Could you do me a favour, mate? I need to know a destination address, please, on an airline. I think the holiday would have been booked with a credit card. Find out for me, would you?’
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them As he gave out Donna’s details he hoped against hope that his hunch was wrong, but somehow he didn’t think it was.
Donna stood with her case outside Colombo airport. The heat was stifling, heavy and damp. She pulled out the neck of her suit and blew down on to her breasts. The blouse she was wearing was already sticking to her with perspiration. A porter came towards her and loaded her case on to a small trolley.
‘Where is your tour bus, Madam?’ He smiled at her with crooked brown teeth.
Donna explained. ‘I have no tour bus. I need a taxi to Hikkadoa. To theJBay View Hotel. Where can I get a taxi?’
The man smiled again, his dark green boiler suit giving out a faint odour of old sweat and grease as he leant towards her.
‘I know very good taxi, Madam. I will take you to him personally.’
Donna followed the little man out into the brilliant sunshine. Everywhere she looked flowers abounded, deep reds and mauves. Jasmine filled the air with its scent, and the sky was a deep clear blue. Even in her agitated state she couldn’t help but appreciate the beauty around her.
The porter took her to a line of taxis and started talking to a driver. After a while he spoke to Donna.
This is my very good friend Raj, and he will take you to your hotel.’ He loaded her case into the boot of a very old dilapidated Nissan and Donna slipped him a hundred-rupee note. Two minutes later they were on their way to Hikkadoa.
After half an hour they entered the city of Colombo itself. J)onna watched the people in amazement. The women’s saris were all the colours of the rainbow, people were selling their wares from the roadside, children ran about dangerously amongst the traffic. The cars were jampacked together, along with bicycles, tour coaches and buses.
The dust was everywhere, and street vendors stood selling their wares without a thought for the dirt covering everything from samosas to painted gourds.
In spite of her worries and her troubles, Donna found herself fascinated by the small city and its inhabitants. The sheer heat and excitement were enough to take her mind off her mission. As the car was gridlocked in the traffic and the incessant shouting and horn blowing went on around her, Donna relaxed against the faded cloth seat of the Nissan and smiled grimly. In all her married life she had always shared every new experience with Georgio. Never once had she travelled abroad without him. If he had been with her now, he
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would have been making funny quips about the people, the taxi and the surroundings. He would have been relaxed, sure of himself, would have read up on his subject and pointed things out to her.
The hot steamy day seemed suddenly chilly to her, the scenes before her eyes less bright. Thinking of Georgio had reminded her of why she was here. Of why she was alone.
In another twenty minutes the car had taken the coast road and they were travelling along narrow dirt tracks towards Moratuwa, on the first leg of their journey to Hikkadoa.
Raj, relaxed now and happy to have a customer, started chatting to Donna in his near perfect English.
‘How long you stay in Hikkadoa?’
Donna flicked her cigarette out of the car window before replying.
“I’m not sure.’
Raj looked dangerously over his shoulder as he drove. ‘Are you meeting with someone?’
‘I’m here on business actually.’ Donna hoped this answer would shut him up, hoped that when she said she wasn’t a tourist he would leave her in peace.
‘What kind of a business would a nice lady like you have in Hikkadoa?’ His voice sounded doubtful.
Donna sighed heavily. ‘Just business, that’s all.’
Raj shrugged. He knew the British well enough to realise when to shut up.
Donna watched the perfect coastline and relaxed once more in her seat, half-afraid of what she’d find in Hikkadoa and half-relieved to be on her way there.
Mario walked into Amigo’s and smiled at the waiter who walked forward. ‘ ‘Have you a booking, sir?’
Mario took in the dark eyes and the slightly too long look and knew that each had recognised the other as his own type. He smiled sexily as he answered.
“Can I see Alan Cox, please? Tell him it’s Mario Brunos, he’ll see me.’
The waiter nodded, offered him a seat at the bar and disappeared up the stairs to Alan’s office. Five minutes later Mario was being led up the stairs by the young man, who took a drinks order from him before he left him with Alan.
Alan looked at Mario, a faint smile on his face, but his eyes were guarded. He knew Mario’s reputation, and wondered which side of the family war he stood on: Donna’s or Stephen’s. Then he noted the
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them way Mario crossed his legs delicately and half-smiled to himself. At least he knew which side of the bed he slept on anyway.
‘Mario, what can I do you for?’
Mario stared into Alan’s face for a few seconds before replying. ‘I am here to ask your advice, and also to ask for your help.’
Alan spread his arms wide. ‘Ask away, son. I can’t promise you anything, but I can listen.’
Mario lit a small cheroot and said slowly, ‘Donna has gone to Sri Lanka; she left this morning. Stephen is also out in Sri Lanka. Now I don’t know how much you know, Mr Cox, but from the amount of time you’ve spent with my sister-in-law, I’d say it’s a lot more than I do. I do not trust my brother Stephen as far as I can throw him. I don’t like the idea of her being out there while he’s there either. If I go, it’ll be all over the Smoke in no time. Now if you could send someone out there, not only would I be grateful, but Georgio would be as well.’
Mario was gratified to see the look of utter astonishment on Alan Cox’s face. From it he could tell that Donna’s so-called ‘holiday’ was as much news to Cox as it had been to Mario and his mother.
‘She’s gone out to Sri Lanka, you say?’
Mario nodded, saved from answering by the young waiter arriving with their drinks. Once the door was shut Alan spoke again.
‘Listen, Mario, I want to know what you know, and I want to know what you suspect. Then we’ll try and make some sense out of it all, and see what needs to be done.’
Mario sipped his white wine daintily and nodded.
‘All I know, Mr Cox, is this. If Stephen’s out there it means trouble. I know Georgio has dealings out there, and in Thailand as well. Now between you and me, Georgio is as crooked as a London financier, always has been. I think he was into something very big before he went down. That’s why he stripped his businesses. Knowing my brother like I do, he will still be involved, and whatever it is he is involved in will be dangerous to Donna. She is not equipped to deal with people like Stephen. Oh, she thinks she is, but then usually she has Georgio behind her here. Out there anything could happen to her, and no one would ever be any the wiser. You do get my drift, don’t you?’
Alan nodded. ‘Before I say anything else, can I ask you something, Mario? What do you think is going on out there, yourself like? What do you think the score is?’