Sweet Pizza

by G. R. Gemin

  “What was that?” asked the councillor.

  “Doctor’s surgery announcements,” said Mam.

  “’Scuse me,” said Mr Dickens, pushing past.

  Joe began to explain his idea to the reporter when Mam shouted, “Bus for Ponty!”

  A group of people got up to leave and Councillor Morgan was hustled out with them in the rush. Joe was still explaining to the reporter about what was happening that night as the councillor fought his way back into the cafe.

  “What about that, Councillor?” asked the reporter.

  “What about what?” he said, brushing himself down.

  “Reimbursing the costs that Mr Merelli, and others, have incurred to offer free food this evening?”

  “Mr who?”

  “Mr Merelli,” said the reporter, pointing at Joe. “Joe Merelli.”

  Joe smiled. “It’s Joe Davis, actually, née Merelli.”

  “Ah, well…” said Councillor Morgan. “Naturally, the Bryn Mawr Council wants to do everything it can to support local initiatives…”

  “Is that a ‘yes’?”

  “No.”

  “I got this voucher scheme an’ all,” said Joe.

  “Voucher scheme?” asked the reporter.

  “People with free time, including the unemployed,” said Joe, “would earn a voucher by working in the community. Then they could cash in the voucher for a free meal, see.”

  “Sounds terrific,” said Gwen. “I’m a pensioner and I’d love someone to tidy my garden.”

  “I’ll do it for a couple of vouchers,” said Vaughan.

  There were murmurs from the other customers.

  “What about that?” the reporter asked the councillor. “Sounds good to me.”

  Councillor Morgan’s eye twitched. “I’d have to take this—”

  “To the Council Chamber, I know,” said Joe. “And I got this other idea for free cookery lessons.”

  “Free cookery lessons?”

  “Yeah,” said Joe. “We can improve the eating habits of people in Bryn Mawr.”

  “Healthy food,” said Mimi.

  “Like this,” said Vaughan as he lifted his plate under the councillor’s nose. “Oh, you should try it. Cannelloni con spinaci e funghi – that’s spinach and mushrooms to you. Buonissimo.”

  “I second that,” said Gwen. “Molto buonissimo.”

  “Something smells nice,” said the reporter. “Apple pie, is it?”

  “No. Sweet pizza,” said Joe as he speed-dialled the cafe phone from his mobile. The phone rang and he gave Mam a nudge.

  “Hello,” said Mam down the phone. “Oh, just a moment… Joe, it’s Jamie.”

  “Jamie? Jamie who?” he asked.

  “Jamie Oliver.”

  “Tell him I’m busy, Mam,” said Joe. “Busy with Councillor Morgan.”

  “Is that the Jamie Oliver?” the reporter asked.

  “Yeah, but he can call back,” said Joe. “Now, about tonight…”

  The bus driver thought Joe was mad to ask, but after a phone call to Councillor Morgan it was arranged for the buses to block the High Street after seven o’clock, and divert cars around the backstreets. Mr Malewski, Dariusz and Marta began to set out some tables with products from Eastern Europe, and Mr Ling, Mr Sadik and Mr Patel did the same with tasters from their takeaways. The shops that were closed kept their window lights on to brighten the street.

  Mam and Mimi were helping Joe prepare the food for the evening, and Vaughan checked the old ice-cream maker. “Seems A-OK,” he said.

  “Thanks,” said Joe as he brushed the four sweet pizzas he’d made with a honey glaze. He stood back to look at them as if he’d just finished a painting.

  “They’re lovely,” said Mam.

  “Hope they taste as good as the trial one we did. They’ll need to go in the oven when we start serving the main course. Now we can start on the lasagne.”

  Joe poured the meat into the frying pan with the onions and garlic, and added the spices.

  “And remember, Mam,” he said. “Nonno needs to be here by—”

  “I know, I know,” she said.

  There was a roll of distant thunder. “Aw, no!” said Joe, putting his hands to his face. “No rain. Not tonight, please.”

  “Get on the phone to Councillor Morgan,” said Mam. “Perhaps he can sort something.”

  Mimi laughed.

  “Funny,” said Joe. “Oh, Vaughan. Have you put up the speakers?”

  “Soon as I finish here, Joe,” he replied.

  “What are the speakers for?” Mam asked.

  “The music.”

  “Music?”

  Joe left Mam perplexed and went to have a look in the cafe.

  All the ugly taped-up repairs had been replaced by neat red stitching. Each of the tables had tablecloths and candles, and a fixed menu with veggie options.

  Joe felt a sudden wave of panic. “What if they don’t come, Mam?” he said.

  “It’s a free dinner,” she said. “People round y’ere aren’t going to miss out on that.”

  “Joe!” shouted Mimi. “Don’t leave the food!”

  He ran back. “Sorry!”

  The lasagne sauce was thick and ruddy, and it smelled beautiful. The ice-cream maker made a low grinding noise as it churned on the table. Two large lasagne baking trays were cleaned.

  “These haven’t seen the light of day for thirty years, I reckon,” said Mam.

  They began to prepare the two lasagne – one for the meat and one for the asparagus. They continued layering until the two baking trays were full. Joe grated Parmesan cheese over each one and they put them in the oven.

  “Phew,” said Mam.

  “Thanks, Mam. Thanks, Mimi,” said Joe. “I appreciate it and I hope the guests do too.”

  Mam kissed him just as there was a knock at the cafe door.

  “Joe!” said Mimi. “They’re here – the first guests.”

  Gwen entered, dressed up to the nines, as was Vaughan and his mother. Mam went round the tables and started lighting the candles.

  “Oh, beautiful,” said Gwen.

  Joe watched from the kitchen as more and more of the guests arrived, taking their seats at the tables. Councillor Morgan sat in the corner with his wife, looking distinctly uptight. Combi and his parents shared a booth with Bonner and his mother, who barely reached up to his shoulder. No one was talking, and Joe sensed they were a little uncomfortable.

  Mam came into the kitchen. “Joe,” she said. “That’s it – all the guests are here.”

  Joe stepped into the cafe. “Thank you for coming,” he said to them. “This a free meal, including the wine. It’s a celebration, and I hope you enjoy the food.”

  “Are you going to tell us why you invited us now?” asked Gwen.

  “Soon,” said Joe. “Let’s eat first.” He dialled a number on his mobile. “We’re ready.”

  A short while later Mr Malewski, Marta, Dariusz, Mr Ling, Mr Patel and Mr Sadik began to bring through the starters and offer them to the guests.

  Joe popped his head through the door now and again, to see how things were going in the cafe. He was pleased to see that Mr Malewski, Marta and the others had entered into the spirit of the occasion and were describing the tasters they were offering from their different countries.

  By the time the main course was ready people were chatting merrily.

  The two types of lasagne were cut into neat squares and plated with a generous sprinkling of Parmesan cheese. Joe watched anxiously as the guests tucked in.

  The oohs and aahs he heard were like food to an empty stomach, but it was the sight of the cafe full of diners chatting in the glow of candlelight that touched him more.

  “Mam,” he said. “Come with me.”

  “Still serving, Joe.”

  “Mimi can manage. It’ll only take a few minutes.”

  He took Mam’s hand and went out into the alley.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Wait an
d see.”

  They reached the High Street and Joe led Mam across the road. He turned her to face the cafe, which sparkled with light. “Look. You got to admit, Mam, it’s beautiful.”

  She pulled Joe to her and kissed the top of his head.

  “It is, Joe. I’ve never seen it till now. It is beautiful.”

  They stood watching Mimi moving from table to table and the customers eating contentedly. Then Joe saw the ambulance approaching. The timing was perfect.

  Mam and Joe greeted Nonno as he was helped out of the ambulance, followed by Dad. When they entered the cafe the customers stood up and began to applaud.

  “Welcome home, Papà,” said Mam.

  Nonno’s eyes were gleaming as he gazed at all the customers. The cafe was full.

  Joe watched from the kitchen doorway as the sweet pizza slices were served, each with a dollop of homemade ice cream.

  “Pizza for afters?” said Combi.

  “It’s sweet pizza,” said Mam.

  Combi’s eyes lit up. He was the first to cut into the pizza slice and try it. His eyes rolled back. “Oh, lovely. Hot apple and banana.”

  Joe smiled and felt proud as he watched people enjoying his new dessert.

  “Bravo, Joe,” said Mimi. “Very clever.”

  Nonno took a seat behind the counter as Joe stepped out of the kitchen to a round of applause.

  “I promised we’d say why you were all invited here tonight,” said Joe. “Well, the main reason was to celebrate the return of Nonno, or Beppe to you. The other reason was to thank you all.”

  He took out the list.

  “During the war in nineteen forty, Nonno was making deliveries for Mr Lewis, the butcher – that was your dad,” Joe said to Mr Lewis. “I know it was a long time ago, but you’re here because your dad gave Nonno a job when others would have nothing to do with him.”

  “I was a toddler,” said Mr Lewis, “but I remember.”

  Nonno raised a glass to him.

  “Gwen,” said Joe.

  “Ooh, what?”

  “On one of Nonno’s deliveries he was set upon by some boys, and your mam saved him. She told them off and sent them on their way.”

  “Good on her!” said Gwen.

  “Mrs Bonner and Tony,” said Joe.

  Bonner blushed as he looked around.

  “Your dad and granddad was a policeman – PC Williams.”

  “He was,” said Bonner’s mam.

  “Did you know he tipped off Nonno that the army were coming to arrest his dad?”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Well, he did, and it gave him enough time to get away. If your granddad had been found out he would have lost his job. It was a great thing to do. Thank you.”

  Mrs Bonner began to cry. “There there, Mam,” said Bonner with a firm pat on her shoulder, making her wince.

  “Vaughan!” said Joe.

  Vaughan stood up, and his mam pulled him back down into his seat.

  “Your granddad, Dai Gwynn, was a miner,” said Joe.

  “I know.”

  Joe pointed at the photograph of Vito Merelli. “Dai smuggled my great-granddad, disguised as a miner, back into Bryn Mawr and into this cafe.”

  “Did he really?”

  “But not only that, he hid Vito in his house when the army wanted to arrest him for being an enemy alien. Dai Gwynn could have been arrested himself if he was found out.”

  Nonno raised his hand to Vaughan and his mam and they sat up with pride.

  “And that’s where the rest of you come in,” said Joe to the other guests. “I’ll let Nonno tell you what happened.”

  He turned to the tape recorder and pressed play.

  “Slowly, over the following weeks and months, people in Bryn Mawr took turns to shelter Papà in their homes. It was a secret, held only by those who could be trusted. They realised he was no threat and to keep him away from his family was inhuman. Every few days he went to a different house. Each family gave him food and somewhere to sleep, and as it turned out they sheltered him over the next four years. He was never caught, but one day he sent me a message – it simply said, ‘Dai loro da mangiare,’ which meant ‘feed them’. It was the one way he could thank them…”

  Joe stopped the tape and turned to the customers. “My great-granddad went to different homes to avoid capture – different families in Bryn Mawr: the Evanses, the Morrises – that was your great-granddad, Combi, on your father’s side…”

  Combi grinned.

  “…The Thomases, the Matthewses, the Zecchinis, the Cohens, the Llewellyns, the Morgans…” Joe nodded at Councillor Morgan, who dabbed a tear from his eye. “…And the Davises,” said Joe. “That’s right, Dad, even your grandparents. You all took turns on a rota. You saved him from deportation right up to VE day in nineteen forty-five. That’s why you’re all here. We wanted to thank you with this meal.”

  There was silence, then Joe, Nonno, Mam and Mimi began to applaud the guests. Joe quickly dialled a phone number. “Now would be good,” he said into the phone.

  He switched on the radio and adjusted the dial to get a good reception for the station.

  “And now, for an extra event to mark VE day in Bryn Mawr,” the DJ announced, “here is Beppe Merelli with his own recollections of that day…”

  There was silence for a moment and then Nonno’s voice.

  “On May the eighth everyone came to the town centre. The war was over. You could feel the joy and relief in the air. It was beautiful. But the moment I’ll never forget was when Papà stepped back into the cafe. He just walked in, just like that, as if he’d only been away for a few hours. He was a free man, out in the open for all to see. He went upstairs, washed and dressed, then he came down into the cafe in his white coat and hat for the first time in over four years. People welcomed him back with open arms, and he showed no ill will.

  That night a lovely thing happened. People wandered about in the centre of Bryn Mawr, like they were having a passeggiata. Papà put a record on his old gramophone. It was the Va pensiero chorus from Verdi’s Nabucco. He started singing along and everyone joined in, because the Welsh know it – it’s the song about everyone’s homeland. The words are beautiful: ‘Fly my thoughts on golden wings. Go to the slopes and hills, where soft, sweet breezes take us to our native land…’

  It was a special thing to see and hear. The shop lights seemed to shine that bit more brightly. Papà made food. He cooked and cooked, as if he was making up for all the lost hours. The last of his preserves were used up. He fed everyone – he shared it all.”

  They listened in silence until the DJ said, “Now, if you make your way to the Bryn Mawr High Street there’s a free food festival. Yes, that’s right, free food from different countries, and all provided by Bryn Mawr shopkeepers to celebrate VE day – Victory in Europe. Here’s the chorus from Verdi’s Nabucco, as was just mentioned. We’re glad you’re back, Mr Merelli…”

  The music started, but it wasn’t just playing in the cafe, it was playing through speakers and into the street. The glorious chorus filled the night air.

  Joe nodded at Councillor Morgan, who said into his phone, “OK. Now.”

  The lines of decorative fairy lights snapped on – Bryn Mawr High Street was ablaze with light, and it wasn’t long before people were milling around and tasting the food. “Look, Nonno,” said Joe. “They’re taking a passeggiata.”

  Nonno’s eyes glistened with tears.

  He tapped his chest and blew Joe a kiss.

  It was late that night when Joe was sitting in the cafe with Nonno, Mam, Mimi and Dad, finishing off the last of the wine. It had started to rain, but the lights of the High Street still shone brightly.

  “I’ll never forget tonight, Joe,” said Mam. “Proud of you, I am.”

  “And you, Mam, and you, Mimi,” he said.

  “You all did it together,” said Nonno. “Proud of you all.”

  They clinked glasses.

  “Oh, by the way, Joe,” s
aid Mam. “Natalie was asking me something about tonight – her dad was Johnny Corbett, right?”

  “That’s right.”

  “And you invited them cos you found out that Combi’s great-granddad on his father’s side was one of the families that had taken in Nonno’s dad during the war?”

  Joe stared up at the ceiling. “Yeah.”

  “But how could that be?” said Mam. “I know your great-granddad was moved around town to all the different families, but I’m pretty sure that didn’t include a family who were living in Jamaica at the time.”

  “Oh, Joe,” said Nonno.

  “Well, I felt bad about what I did to Combi and I wanted him included.”

  “But what about the others, Joe?” said Mam. “Please tell me they were all really—”

  “Oh, yeah, they were all legit – promise,” said Joe. “All legitimate relatives of those who helped us, apart from Combi.”

  “Oh, good.”

  “And Councillor Morgan,” Joe added.

  “Councillor Morgan!” said Mam. “So his folks never helped us during the war?”

  “No. His family were from North Wales.”

  “So why did you include him?”

  “Well, I figured if I invited him he couldn’t refuse, see.”

  Mam rolled her eyes. “‘An offer he couldn’t refuse’.”

  “Right. So if he was involved, he’d be useful – stopping the traffic. The lights. The reporter… He was very useful.”

  Joe’s eyebrow arched up.

  Mimi, Mam and Dad stared at him, and then Nonno started making a funny noise. Mam panicked and went to phone for an ambulance.

  “It’s OK,” said Dad. “I think he’s laughing.”

  Nonno started banging the table. He had tears in his eyes and was laughing uncontrollably.

  Mam turned to Joe. “You’re mad.”

  She held her fingers together and shook her hand.

  “Mam!” said Joe. “You’ve gone all Italian!”

  She kissed him and held his face in her hands. “Joe. You are … bellissimo.”

  Mimi waited for the train with Joe, Mam, Vaughan, Marta, Bonner and Combi. No one spoke. As the train pulled in, Joe’s throat was so tight he felt as if he’d never be able to swallow again.