Angelo felt his jaw clench. “In the end, I am the one responsible for the Gleno break. At least in part. You are the other part.”
The Colonel straightened. “And you are prepared to step down as minister, Angelo? Is that your intention? People in power remain in power because of the dirty work they had to do to get there. And they remain in power because they have a strategy to implement. But if you want to stage this little battle with me, then you had better keep yourself off the front line, or you will achieve nothing.”
Angelo shook his head. “You have your ways. I have mine.”
“Pin it on your chief engineer.”
Of course his father would suggest that. To hell with him. “Stefano would be ruined. He has a family. Young children.”
“Indeed, like you. My men will send him where nobody will recognise him. He’ll be rewarded amply enough.”
“I need Stefano. He’s been my number one man. He grew up in Bolzano. Knows the Tyroleans.”
His father scowled. “Then it’s time he gets to know the rest of his country.”
“And who will Grimani Electrical sacrifice? Barbarasso?”
“He is prepared.”
Angelo burst out laughing. “For prison?” Of course his father would shoot his favourite pet if it meant survival.
“Either that, or for a fee. Leave that to me. And as you waste your time reinventing safety standards, I have time to consider how to restore my business. A new name, for example. But, Angelo, mark my words: I will recover, and more than that, I will make sure my interests move forward.”
When they heard Marco’s voice, they both turned around. Chiara was coming out, holding the boy’s hand. She wore a loose black dress, the hem embroidered in soft beige and ochre, and a matching blouse tied squarely at the hip. On her head, she wore a close-fitting black cap, her hair done painstakingly in the latest fashion. The only thing that ruined her evening attire was her expression. Angelo knew the Colonel’s presence caused the strain.
The Colonel lowered his voice. “When I’m done, Marco will have something to take over.”
“That’s my job,” Angelo snapped. “I’m his father.”
“Of course it is. You see, it’s just that with Marco, I have a second chance to do things right. You wouldn’t deny me that.”
Angelo put an end to the quarrel by swinging his son up onto the sun-washed balustrade. He pointed to the sea, positioning himself between the Colonel and Chiara. “Tomorrow, Marco, we’re going to hunt for seashells.”
His wife was facing the cable car gliding down from Monte Bignone. “And at the weekend, your grandparents d’Oro will take you up the mountain,” she said. “You’ll see the whole of the Ligurian Sea from the top. Won’t that be fine?”
The Colonel grunted. “You needn’t wait until the weekend. Nonna and I will take you tomorrow.”
Angelo bent towards his son’s ear but made sure the Colonel could hear him. “We have three weeks. There’s time for everything.” He cast his wife a look before addressing his father. “Chiara and I would like to go bathing tomorrow and take Marco to build sandcastles, things a four-year-old should do. If you’re intent on preparing yourself for the hearings, please do so, but not with me.”
His father checked his pocket watch. “We’ll be late for dinner. I’m going to fetch the rest of our party.” He jabbed a finger into Angelo’s shoulder. “You and I are not finished. Think about what I said. It will not be you, but Stefano who will carry the blame for the Gleno.”
When the Colonel was inside, Chiara put a hand on his arm. “What is your father up to now?”
Angelo put Marco down, and he ran along the landing. “Let’s just enjoy ourselves, please. I’ll go get dressed. Then we’ll have dinner and go to the casino, as planned. There are so many people here from Bolzano, my father will be too distracted to bother us.”
From her expression, he hadn’t convinced her. He might remind her that he’d suggested they go on holiday alone in the first place, but she had insisted that her parents come along, and then his mother had started up. It was not worth arguing about it now. Besides, it would be advantageous to keep the peace.
“How do you find the room?”
“Ample space. Marco and his nanny are set up across the hall from us.”
At least he’d have Chiara alone, and he was as nervous as a bachelor about it. When he took her hand, he thought she too might be anxious about the shared bed. The idea pleased him. Despite all that had happened in the past eight months—longer—maybe they still had a chance. He was making the effort to prove his good intentions. Even talked about sacrificing himself and resigning as minister of Civil Engineering. He would have to court her again, like he had the first time, and put everything they’d done to one another behind them. He was prepared to do that if she was. A tall order, though, for a woman who held a grudge against him.
He looked at the incoming tide. If only it would swallow up all his mistakes, all his regrets, and carry them away so far that even he could no longer remember them.
***
T he air was still warm and scented by sea, jasmine, frying fish, and olive oil as Angelo and Chiara strolled arm in arm to the casino. Ahead, his sisters gossiped busily, categorising the bachelors they’d seen at dinner between handsome and ugly. It was an activity they were able to do freely now that their mother, who’d complained of her usual headache, had turned in for the night. Then there was the Colonel, visibly annoyed by Angelo’s avoidance of the hearings. Each attempt his father
