At first Tony looked really concerned. Then he realised we were laughing, not crying.
‘What’s so funny?’ asked Tony.
‘Nesta is,’ said Lucy pointing at me. ‘Nesta Williams. The Domestic Coddess.’
And then they started laughing and Luke sat on the floor next to me and interlocked his hand with mine. It felt great. Like a current of electricity coursing right from the tip of my fingers to the tips of my toes.
After that the evening was brilliant. We went back into the sitting room, had ice cream with all the toppings we could find, maple syrup, chocolate sauce, chopped nuts and flakes and we played the chill out CD again. We were having such a good time that, before I knew it, it was ten-thirty and Mum and Dad were back.
Great, I thought. I’d been hoping that Luke would still be here when Dad got back. So maybe I didn’t dazzle him with my brilliant cookery skills, but I was sure that Dad would impress him by chatting to him about films.
But something really weird happened instead.
Mum and Dad came in and Dad took one look at Luke, then did a double take. Then he started staring at Luke with a really hard look on his face. What is the matter with him, I thought? It was like he had seen a ghost.
‘Mum and Dad, this is Luke. Luke, this is Mum and Dad,’ I said.
Mum smiled. ‘Pleased to meet you, Luke. How was the curry?’
That set us all off laughing again.
‘Hmm. Slight change of plan,’ said Tony. ‘Explain later.’
‘Oh. OK,’ said Mum, looking puzzled.
‘And by mistake, I served your creamed cod as ice cream,’ I said.
Mum started laughing then, but Dad was still staring at Luke.
‘What’s your surname, Luke?’ he suddenly asked.
‘De Biasi,’ said Luke.
Dad’s face clouded and he turned and left the room.
This wasn’t like my dad. Usually he was King of Charm. Even Mum looked surprised by his behaviour. What was going on?
Nesta’s Mum’s Tips for Dinner Parties
• Keep it simple.
• If possible, have a trial run on a night before the dinner party, so that you know exactly what to do and how the meal will turn out.
• Choose a recipe where you can do most of the preparation beforehand and just heat it up when the guests arrive. That way, you can spend time with your guests.
Nesta’s Tips for Dinner Parties
• Remember to turn on the oven.
• Read the labels on tubs in the freezer.
• Try not to burn your hair or eyebrows.
On second thoughts:
Nesta’s Tips for Dinner Parties, Version Two
• Go out to eat.
Chapter 9
I confronted Dad in the kitchen the following morning.
‘But why not?’
‘Because I don’t wish to, Nesta,’ said Dad. ‘And that’s the end of it.’
‘But Dad, you have to give me a reason . . .’
If Dad’s face was a weather forecast, it just turned from clouds to thunder. ‘I don’t have to do anything,’ he said.
I know teenagers are renowned for saying it’s not fair, but this really wasn’t. All I’d asked was that Dad be friendlier to Luke in future and chat to him about being a film director. But no, Old Misery was being, well, an old misery.
‘But Dad, all I’m asking is that you talk to him. I felt ashamed of you last night, I really did. I’ve been brought up to be polite to visitors and make them feel welcome. Your behaviour was rude and for no reason.’
A loud snigger came from the counter where Mum was peeling carrots for Sunday lunch. She turned and looked at Dad with an amused look as if to say, ‘Get out of that one, matie.’
Dad pouted like a sullen teenager. ‘I don’t wish to discuss it, Nesta. And for once in your life, will you please not question everything.’
‘But it doesn’t make sense. I don’t understand. Give me a good reason. Luke’s not a drug addict. Or a creep. Or an alien. So why? I don’t understand why.’
‘Subject closed,’ said Dad, then he picked up his newspaper and held it up to his face.
Mum shrugged her shoulders and pulled an ‘I don’t know’ kind of face. I went into the hall, grabbed my coat and headed for the front door.
‘Where are you going?’ called Mum. ‘Lunch won’t be long.’
‘Lost my appetite,’ I said as I opened the door then slammed it behind me.
As I made my way down the street, I felt tears sting the back of my eyes. I felt angry. And frustrated. And upset. I got on really well with my dad normally and we rarely argued. Why was he being so unreasonable all of a sudden? I didn’t understand. I hate feeling like this, I thought, and I hate us not getting on at home. I called Izzie on my mobile to commiserate. I knew she’d understand as sometimes she doesn’t get on with her mum.
‘Maybe it’s a jealousy thing,’ she said. ‘Fathers never like to see their little girls with boys. He’s always been your number one, then along comes a boy like Luke to steal you away. I mean, I know you’ve had cute boyfriends before, but Luke is exceptionally good-looking.’
‘He is, isn’t he?’
‘Yeah. As in ding double dong. He looks a bit like Tony in fact.’
‘Does not.’
‘Does. In that he’s very good-looking in an Italian kind of way. You know dark and . . .’
‘Oh. Do you think I’m being all shallow and just going for looks again?’
‘Dunno. Are you?’
‘Well, I do like the way he looks, who wouldn’t? But I can really talk to him as well. We get on. He knows a lot.’
‘There you go then, Nesta. Beauty and brains. What more could you want?’
‘Dad to like him.’
‘Give him time. Maybe seeing Luke reminded your dad that he’s getting older. Who knows what goes on in our parents’ warped and twisted minds? Maybe he’s going through the male menopause. How did Luke react when your dad gave him the cold shoulder?’
‘Disappointed, I think. He’d been really looking forward to talking to him about movies. I felt such an idiot. I’d given my dad this great build up then he turns up, and blanks Luke. He split soon after Dad got home. He knew that he wasn’t welcome.’
‘Weird, huh? Your dad’s never been heavy about a boy before.’
‘I know.’
‘So what are you going to do?’
‘I’m going to see Luke right now. He told me he was working at Biasi’s today, so I’m just going to pop in and check that he’s cool.’
‘Er, Nesta. Are you sure you should?’ asked Izzie. ‘I mean, you’re always the first to say don’t be too available in the beginning of a relationship. You invited him for dinner last night and now you’re going to see him again. Might be too much, too soon, don’t you think? Might frighten him off.’
‘Nah. This is different. I think he needs to know that I’m on his side, not on my dad’s. Besides, I know he likes me. Even though he left pretty fast last night, we did have a snog at the door before he went.’
‘Out of ten?’
‘Ten. He’s an ace kisser.’
‘Not a brace kisser?’ said Izzie with a laugh.
‘Nope. I was worried about my brace at first, but it didn’t get in the way at all, and he did say to go in and see him if I felt like it.’
‘Well, good luck,’ said Izzie. ‘And I hope your dad chills. Try talking to him again when he’s had a bit of space. He probably realises that he was out of order last night and will be more receptive to talking later.’
Good old Izzie, I thought. She’s always good to chat to in a crisis. She’s sort of calm and wise at the same time. And mad as well, if that’s possible. ‘Yeah, right, I will,’ I said. ‘I think that’s why I was so upset, as we’ve always been able to talk about stuff before, but this time, it was like he put up a brick wall.’
The atmosphere in Biasi’s was brilliant. The place was packed and buzzing
with lunch-time diners and, although Luke was busy serving people, I could tell that he was pleased to see me.
‘I’ll catch you on my break in about fifteen minutes,’ he said as he directed me to a bar counter near the till where a large, glamorous, dark-haired lady was sitting with a glass of red wine.
‘Mum, this is Nesta,’ he said.
His mum was great. Within minutes she was telling me all about her family, and the village in Italy she came from, and the house that they have there where they grow olives and herbs and make their own pesto. When I told her that I was half Italian, she treated me as if I were a long lost relative and insisted that I have the recipe for their pesto along with a sample jar. After ten minutes or so, we were joined by a very suave-looking older man with silver-grey hair.
‘Dad,’ mouthed Luke from the other side of the restaurant. He didn’t need to tell me. I could see immediately as they were the spitting image of each other.
Like Mrs De Biasi, Luke’s dad was very friendly and charming. He insisted that I have a drink on the house and sample the olives and freshly baked bread while I waited for Luke.
As I sat there munching, Marisa came out of the kitchen in the back carrying a birthday cake with loads of candles. Complete pandemonium broke out as Mr and Mrs De Biasi led the waiters with trumpets and tambourines in a chorus of ‘Happy Birthday’ sung to a white-haired old lady who was dining with her family. I felt so at home and it seemed that everyone who came into the restaurant felt the same way. Most of the diners knew the De Biasis personally and Mrs De Biasi relished filling me in on all sorts of gossip and who was who and who did what.
Luke came and sat with me in his break and his mum and dad made themselves scarce, but not before his mum gave me a huge wink.
‘I really like your parents,’ I said. ‘Meeting them makes me feel extra bad about last night and my dad. He’s not usually like that.’
Luke shrugged. ‘Maybe he wasn’t feeling well. Another time. In fact, bring your mum and dad down here for a meal. As you can see it’s pretty informal and relaxed around here.’
‘That’s a great idea,’ I said. ‘Dad’s bound to love it. I mean, he is Italian. He loves good pasta. He’ll love the atmosphere in here and so will Mum.’
‘Any time,’ said Luke.
I glanced over at his dad. ‘Your dad seems really nice and approachable. Why don’t you try telling him about wanting to act.’
Luke put a finger up to his mouth as if to hush me. He indicated a few of the other waiters and waitresses busy rushing about dealing with the Sunday lunch crowd. ‘I have tried, believe me. But see the staff. A few of them are actors. Like William over there, he hasn’t worked since last year . . .’
‘I thought I recognised him,’ I said. ‘He was in . . . oh, I can’t remember the name of it, a soap on ITV?’
Luke nodded. ‘Yeah. His face was everywhere, but since then nothing has come in.’
‘Yeah, but he was, like, really famous. I’d have thought producers were queuing up for him.’
Luke shook his head. ‘He says that so many of his actor friends are resting. Basically that means out of work.’ He pointed at a girl with short red hair busy carrying plates of tiramisu. ‘That’s Sophie. Also an out of work actor. See, Dad gets to see so many of them here as they come and ask for work whilst they’re in between jobs. He doesn’t want that for me.’
‘But hasn’t that put you off?’
‘Nope. I understand that you don’t get every job and that there are periods when you don’t work. I’m not under any illusion that you become an actor and, hey presto, everyone wants you. No. I will help out in Dad’s restaurants, it’s just . . . I don’t want it to be my whole life. My only career. Acting will always be my number one, but I’m well aware that you have to have backup as well.’
What he said made me think. Dad was always saying the same thing – that work in the media often meant feast or famine, our family had enough experience of it ourselves, but I hadn’t related it to myself before and thought about a backup career. I’d just presumed that it would be different for me, that I’d have loads of work when I hit the stage, but maybe it wasn’t going to be as easy as that.
‘So you see why Dad isn’t that enamoured when I tell him that I want to be an actor when I leave school?’
I nodded. ‘Yes, but I guess it’s because he cares about you. Wants you to be secure and all that . . .’
‘Yeah. But I want to be happy as well.’
‘Dads, huh?’
Luke nodded. ‘Yeah. A pain.’
‘Yeah. But it’s not usually a pain with my dad. He’s great most days. In fact, I’m going to go home and have it out with him. And I think you should with your dad, too.’
‘Yeah, right,’ said Luke. ‘How about you go with yours first and you can tell me how it went next Wednesday.’
Mum, Dad and Tony were just finishing lunch when I got home over an hour later laden with presents.
‘What’s all this?’ asked Mum as I emptied my carrier bag out on the kitchen table.
‘Cool,’ said Tony as he picked up a packet of almond biscuits.
Mrs De Biasi had given me a huge Panettone, biscuits, jars of anchovies, a bottle of olive oil, a jar of pesto.
‘From Luke’s mum,’ I said. ‘She’s amazing. When she found out that I was half Italian, she wouldn’t stop giving me things. I tried to refuse, but she insisted, saying that it was all from the restaurant so not expensive. And Mr De Biasi said that I must bring you all there.’
Dad looked up from his plate.
‘Look Dad, all your favourites . . .’ I continued.
‘So you met Mr De Biasi?’ interrupted Dad.
‘Yeah. He’s really nice. You’d really like him. He’s very handsome like you. Luke’s mum’s very good-looking as well. Glam in a Sophia Loren kind of way. So when shall we go?’
Dad got up from the table. ‘I’d prefer it if you didn’t see Luke or go there again,’ he said, then he left the room.
I was gobsmacked. I looked at Mum and Tony. They looked surprised as well, but neither of them said anything. The silence felt really uncomfortable.
‘What is going on?’ I asked. ‘What’s the matter with Dad?’
‘Beats me,’ said Tony.
Mum sighed and looked after Dad. ‘I think . . . I think your dad should tell you.’
‘Tell me what? You’re not getting divorced are you?’ I gasped.
‘No, silly.’
‘Is it because there isn’t much money at the moment?’
Mum shook her head.
‘So what then?’
Mum sighed. ‘Look, I’ll tell you part of the story, but then you must ask your dad.’
I sat down at the table. ‘OK. Listening.’
‘Your dad knew Luke’s dad. Years ago. I never met him, it was long before we were together, but I’ve heard him talk about him. Gianni De Biasi. Apparently they were mates when they were lads, in fact, more than mates from what I can make out. They were like brothers.’
‘Ohmigod! It’s true what they say, it’s a small world. Well that’s brilliant, isn’t it? They can meet up again. It will be soooo fantastic.’
Mum shook her head. ‘No. Something happened . . .’
‘What?’
‘That’s the part I think your dad should tell you,’ she said.
Mrs De Biasi’s Homemade Pesto
(serves four)
3 handfuls of fresh basil (finely chopped)
1 handful of pinenuts (lightly toasted)
1 handful of Parmesan cheese (grated)
Quarter of a clove of garlic
Lemon juice
Extra virgin olive oil
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
Pound the garlic, a pinch of salt and the basil in a bowl. Add the pinenuts and pound again. Add half the Parmesan. Stir, then add just enough olive oil to bind the sauce.
Season with salt and pepper to taste, then add the rest of the
cheese. If you’re not happy with the consistency, keep adding oil and cheese until you are. Add a squeeze of lemon at the end.
Delicious mixed into pasta.
Chapter 10
‘So what did happen with them?’ asked Lucy.
We were sitting in the playground at break the next morning. TJ, Lucy, Izzie and me, squashed on a bench trying to keep warm as it was a cloudy day with a bitter wind blowing.
‘Still don’t know. I was about to go charging in to Dad and find out the rest of the story but Mum asked me to let him tell me in his own time. Somehow I got the feeling she was right. It wasn’t the time to start demanding answers. I’ve never seen Dad like this before and it wasn’t so much that he was angry, more like upset.’
Lucy nodded. ‘I think you were right. Mum says you can’t force people to talk until they’re ready. In fact, forcing an issue that is very painful may only make someone bury it deeper.’
‘I guess I just have to wait then,’ I said.
‘Poo,’ said Izzie.
‘I know.’
‘But we don’t know it was painful,’ said Izzie. ‘All we know is that something happened.’
‘Sounds a biggie whatever it was,’ said TJ. ‘A mystery. I wonder what it is.’
‘So do I,’ I said. ‘The suspense is killing me and patience is not my best virtue.’
‘Maybe they were both in love with Luke’s mum,’ said Lucy looking dreamy. ‘You said she was glamorous. If she still is now, then she was probably even more stunning when she was younger. Maybe she was your dad’s childhood sweetheart then Luke’s dad stole her away and your dad has never forgiven him.’
‘You’ve been watching too many romantic videos, Lucy,’ I said.
‘Or maybe it was your mum that they both wanted,’ said TJ.
I shook my head. ‘No. Mum said they knew each other before she came on the scene.’
‘Maybe Tony’s mum then,’ said TJ, then gasped. ‘Maybe he murdered her! That would give your dad good reason not to want to see Luke’s dad.’
Mates, Dates and Pulling Power Page 7
