The Chainmakers (30 page)

They stopped, and Vittorio reached up and picked a perfect deep pink bloom from the hedge, and handed it to Anna. 'This is the best perfume of all, Mrs Sullivan. It is called Madame Isaac Periere, one of the old Bourbons.' He sighed. 'You know, Mrs Sullivan, there are those who are simply jealous of my success. They do not think it acceptable that a poor Italian immigrant should do quite so well, and so they insist he must make his money illegally.'

Anna was unsure how to reply. She hesitated and then plunged in. 'I do not know what your business interests are Vittorio, what do you do exactly?'

Vittorio Vetti's mouth dropped open. Then he let out a great shout of laughter. 'Yes... oh yes! Mrs Sullivan, I can see why Paolo finds you so refreshing!' He steered her to a garden seat and then explained, 'Most people would not dream of asking me such a question! But since you have, I shall tell you,' he said, still laughing. 'My business interests are very varied. I have laundries, a whole chain of them, and a very large transport fleet.' His voice became smug and self congratulatory, he was almost preening himself. 'I was one of the first to capitalise on motorised transport, Mrs Sullivan, while others were still saying we should stick to the horse and cart!'

He waved his hand dismissively, and then continued. 'We have changed the subject have we not? I asked about your opposition to this wedding. I do not blame you, I was also very much against it.'

'Were you?' Anna said, genuinely surprised.

'Yes indeed, my nephew and I have had many quarrels about it.'

'I can't understand why you should object,' Anna was slightly nettled. 'Jennie is...'

'Jennie is a very lovely girl, intelligent and charming, and she loves my nephew dearly, I have no doubt of that.'

'Then why?' Surely not because she is an orphan?'

'No, not really. It is not what she is, it is more what she is not, if you see what I mean.'

'I don't,' Anna responded, a little tartly.

Vittorio sighed. 'I suppose I am old fashioned, at least that is what Paolo says. I am a traditionalist, and always imagined that Paolo would marry a nice Italian girl from home...'

'Surely it is up to Paolo who he chooses to marry?'

'Yes, of course, as has proved to be the case, and I will give him all the help and support I can, but between us Mrs Sullivan, I admit to being disappointed. It's nothing to do with Jennie, I like her, truly I do. But she is not Italian, and so will not understand Paolo's background, and she's not Catholic either... hence that hotch potch of a ceremony you saw today...'

'I thought it was very beautiful,' Anna said.

Vittorio shrugged. 'I suppose it was alright, for New York. But his sister's wedding two years ago, and the others, all in Rome of course... they were superb. Have you ever been to a full Catholic wedding Mrs Sullivan?'

'No,' Anna admitted, for some reason thinking of Notre Dame in Paris. Clancy had to be wrong about this man, she thought. Could a mobster care so much about a wedding ceremony?

As if he read her thoughts Vittorio said, 'Of course, I can't pretend I am an especially religious man, but it is the tradition in our family, Mrs Sullivan. These rituals... they are important.'

'Yes, I think I understand. However, I don't think you will be disappointed in Jennie.'

'I'm sure I won't,' Vittorio said. He seemed to pull himself together and added, 'Paolo is like a son to me, I am a little over protective perhaps.'

'You have no children of your own?'

'No. My wife died in childbirth, our first, and the child too.'

'I am so sorry,' Anna responded gently.

Vittorio smiled at her. 'There is no need to be, it was all a very long time ago. Paolo's mother died when he was only a few months old, and when his father... died... a few years later I inherited a ready made family.'

'You took on a big responsibility,' Anna observed.

'Yes, but I have enjoyed it, and as I said, family is important.' He hesitated, 'There is one thing you may be able to help me with Mrs. Sullivan. I want Paolo and Jennie to live here with me, but Paolo will not hear of it.'

'But they have bought the little bungalow out towards...'

'I know!' Vittorio interrupted fiercely. 'To think of Paolo living in a dump like that!'

'It's hardly a dump. It's a very nice little bungalow.' Anna said.

'You have seen it?'

'Of course,' she replied. 'I helped Jennie choose some of the furnishings.'

Vittorio threw his hands in the air in frustration. 'I give up. I thought you would be on my side, and it seems you are helping them in this nonsense.'

'There aren't any sides surely?' Anna said gently. 'We are both on the same side, Paolo and Jennie's side?'

Vittorio sighed. His shoulders slumped and he said glumly, 'Of course you're right, and of course I'm on their side. It's just that I can offer them more here, it's safer for them.'

'Safer?' Anna was mystified.

'More secure,' he corrected himself. 'I would like Jennie to be protected from all the noise and bustle of the city, and if they have children there is space here.'

'It's a very nice area they have chosen,' Anna reassured him, 'And I have a complaint of my own. I understand that it is due to your influence that I have lost Jennie from the business.'

Vittorio smiled. 'It was the only concession they made to me, Jennie giving up work,' he said. 'The only point I won!'

'It wasn't a battle surely?' Anna said. From the look on his face she saw that it had been exactly that.

'On that point I would never give way,' Vittorio said. 'Married ladies do not work when their husbands can support them. It's not right. It would be a disgrace.'

'What about me?' Anna asked. 'Am I a disgrace?'

'Certainly not. But you are a New Yorker, not Italian.'

'No, I'm not. I'm an immigrant from England. And Vittorio, remember this. Jennie is not Italian either.'

He smiled ruefully. 'I'll do my best. Shall we go back?'

Anna took his arm and a few moments later as they left the rose garden they saw that a large number of guests had gathered on the terrace. There seemed to be some sort of commotion, with everyone talking at once. Clancy extricated himself from the throng and came down the terrace steps towards them.

'There ye are darlin'. There's terrible news. The Lusitania has been sunk by a German submarine. She was off the coast of Ireland, so she was. Twelve hundred souls drowned, many of them were women and children.'

'Oh, how dreadful!' Anna was aghast.

Vittorio was quick to agree. 'And on our happy day too,' he said sadly, 'It is most distressing. I expect like me, you are glad to be out of Europe Mr.Sullivan, so this dreadful war does not affect us so directly.'

'I'm not so sure of that,' Clancy said grimly. 'A hundred and twenty eight of the passengers were American citizens. This may be what was needed to make President Wilson decide to take America into the war.'

~

President Wilson stopped short of declaring war, but in the aftermath of the public outcry he issued a strong warning to Germany, as well as initiating what was called a "preparedness campaign" at home.

For Anna and Clancy however, the war in Europe came suddenly near. Only three weeks after the wedding Anna arrived home to find Lottie looking anxious.

'What is it Lottie?' The two women had grown so close that Anna noticed immediately if Lottie was troubled.

'Oh, it's nothing I'm sure, you know me, always looking for trouble before it's here...' Lottie fussed, as she carried a tray of tea into the drawing room.

'Goodness, what service! You had tea ready I can see...'

It was then that Anna noticed the letter on the tea tray, and picked it up with an expression of delight. 'Oh look! It's from Will...' Her expression changed suddenly and she stared at Lottie with apprehension.

'Oh Lottie... I had a letter from Will last week.'

'I know my dear.' Lottie said. 'I've been able to think of nothing else since it came. I know he only writes about once a month.'

The two women stared at each other, the envelope trembling slightly in Anna's hand.

'Best open it,' Lottie said. 'It's probably nothing much.'

Anna sat down and slowly opened the letter. She knew the contents before she read it, because unlike Will's normal letters it was only a page, written hastily in the familiar copperplate handwriting. Anna let the page flutter to the floor, and Lottie picked it up and read it quickly.

Lottie bent and kissed Anna, feeling her heart clench as if in a vice. The face Anna turned towards her was white and stunned, full of pathetic pleading. 'Not our Billy, oh no dear Lord... not our Billy...'

'I'll telephone Mr. Sullivan,' Lottie said.

Half an hour later, rocked in Clancy's arms, Anna cried, 'It can't be true, it can't. We didn't even know he was in Gallipoli...'

'I know darlin', but in wartime, they can't tell you where the soldiers are going...'

'I read about it Clancy! I read about the landings at Seddel-Bahr... and the terrible loss of life there... and I didn't know... I didn't know Billy was one of them...' Anna's voice was an anguished wail.

'I know. It takes a long time for news to get through... and then Will had to let us know...'

'Poor Will and Mary! Oh Clancy, I must go home for the funeral...'

Clancy rocked her gently. 'Hush, darlin', hush...'

'I must book a passage...'

'No, darlin'. Quiet now, you don't have to go anywhere...'

'But I must...'

'No darlin'.' Clancy looked into her brimming eyes with compassion. 'I'm not allowing you anywhere near the Atlantic with those German subs about... and anyway...' Clancy hated himself but finished the sentence quietly, 'There isn't going to be any funeral darlin', not for Billy, not for a lot of our boys.'

She stared at him a moment, not comprehending, and then he watched her crumple, become smaller somehow, and she said wonderingly, 'Vittorio... Vittorio Vetti... he said rituals are important. He was right.' A thought struck her and she raised a tear stained face to him. 'Oh Clancy! We were at the wedding... enjoying that lovely day... and our Billy was already dead!'

'You mustn't think of it like that darlin'. It's the war, that's all, it turns everything upside down...'

His words did not help. Anna's brain held on to the image of a small cheeky boy, running down the ginnel at Sandley Heath, to visit the corner shop for a pennyworth of Hudson's soap and a ha'penny blue. 'And a bag o'boilers from your rich auntie,' she whispered, before her grief broke and she sobbed her misery into Clancy's shoulder. Clancy did all he could, but she would not be comforted.