‘I haven’t thought that far ahead yet. I’m winging it here, Dante; you can see that. But, desperate times call for desperate measures. And we’re fucking desperate!’
Taking everything that Deana had told him on board, Dante shook his head. ‘Even if it comes to nothing, you will always know that you have tried. Now, go and do what you have to do. Me, I am going to finish my homework.’
For a moment, Deana looked at him and took stock. Smiling, she put her arms around him and hugged him. ‘You know, Dante, with that calm exterior and logical thinking, you’re more like Dad than I am. You’re even beginning to look like him, with all that dark hair. I might have his impulsive side, but you have the killer instinct.’
Hitting her playfully on the shoulder, Dante smiled. ‘Oh God, Deana, don’t get sentimental on me now. I think I prefer it when you’re picking on me. Go on, I’ve got stuff to do.’ Cocking his head to one side and giving her a lopsided grin, he smiled. ‘And by the sounds of it, Deana, so have you. Go!’
Grinning from ear to ear, Deana got up and opened the bedroom door. She could hear everyone downstairs laughing and talking. Turning her head from side to side, she could see there was no sign of her parents. ‘Tomorrow, Dante,’ she whispered. ‘We’ll speak tomorrow.’ Seeing him nod, she walked out and closed the door behind her. Standing on her own on the landing, she punched the air and grinned. ‘Yes!’
Standing in the kitchen, Alex straightened his tie and looked at the two detectives beside him. ‘Ready?’
‘Alex, you still have the chance to do this behind a screen with a video. Any one of them could have a gun in their hand and take a pot shot at you,’ Maggie cried. Tears fell down her face. She was afraid. Today everything was coming out in the open. Everyone in the neighbourhood would know who they were and she was afraid of the fallout.
‘I promise you Maggie,’ said one of the detectives, ‘every precaution for that has been taken into consideration. Everyone is searched. But she’s right Alex, you still have the opportunity to do it via video link.’
‘No. I have made my bed and now it’s time to face it.’ He felt sick to the stomach leaving Maggie like this, but he knew he had to. ‘Give us a minute eh?’ Alex asked the detectives and waited until they left the room.
Taking hold of her, their lips met, and they kissed like they had never kissed before. It was loving and full of hope and longing, in case they never saw each other again.
‘Take the money and run,’ Alex whispered. Letting her go, he took one last look as he left and walked out.
In the courtroom, Alex was led in first and took the stand. The court was packed to the hilt. At the back he saw John; his swift glance in Alex’s direction was enough acknowledgement.
The barrister stood up to start proceedings. ‘Mr Silva. Do you recognise any of the men accused in court today and can you tell us their names and who they are?’
Alex saw Pereira, who looked old and withered. He’d lost a lot of weight and there were bruises covering his face. Then he looked at the other gangland bosses. ‘Yes I do, sir. They are all known crime lords and gangland bosses. The heads of the families.’ Each one of them glared at Alex, their eyes full of hate and loathing.
Staring directly back at them, he wouldn’t let them intimidate him. John was right, he thought to himself as he looked at them. They were old men with old ways. It was time for fresh blood!
MORE FROM GILLIAN GODDEN
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Chapter One
THE RUNAWAY
‘Come on, Antonias, get up. Shush now, quickly.’ The bedroom was in darkness; only the moonlight shining through the blinds at the windows gave a little light to see by. Antonias yawned and rubbed his eyes.
‘Mummy, where are we going?’ The little boy, just five years old, looked up at his mother as she pulled back the bedclothes and began manoeuvring him out of his bed.
‘Shush, Antonias, we’re going to play a little game of hide and seek on Grandma and Granddad. Get up, now. Let’s be as quiet as mice.’
Little Antonias was still half asleep, and bleary eyed. It was the middle of the night. He stood while his mother dressed him in a T-shirt and trousers.
Annette was already dressed. She was being as quiet as she could, so she didn’t disturb the rest of the household, but even her breathing seemed to make a noise, and her heart was pounding in her ears.
Annette would be glad to see the back of this place. When she had met Marias on holiday, she’d thought this was going to be la dolce vita, the sweet life. But all she had got was life on a boring grape farm, owned by his parents.
She was nervous but tried to hide it; she didn’t want to frighten her beautiful little boy. His mop of hair – golden, like her own – was a rarity, considering he was half-Italian, although his blue eyes were like his father’s – his, and that bitch, Miriam’s.
Smiling and hugging him close to her, Annette made it all seem like a little secret game they were going to play.
Antonias was still rubbing his eyes, and smiling and giggling with his mummy, when Annette picked up the holdall containing the money she had taken from the safe. Miriam, her mother-in-law, had given her a cheque, but it wasn’t enough; she needed more if she was going to leave this place and start again.
Annette took Antonias’s hand and crept down the dark staircase, towards the front door. She opened it carefully, then turned and took one last look around the hallway, before stepping out into the darkness of the vineyard.
She winked at Antonias and put her finger to her lips, to indicate to him to be quiet. Slowly, they started to walk the long path that led up to the main road.
Annette had to carry Antonias half of the way. Although he was excited by the game, he was tired, and the night air made him shiver.
As Annette got closer to the main road, she looked around frantically. She was nearly out of breath. What with the holdall and little Antonias to carry, she was exhausted.
She looked around again and finally spotted the truck. It was parked in a lay-by, with its headlights on low beam. Carlos got out and smiled at her, and then he saw Antonias and the smile faded.
Carlos had made life worth living again. Annette had met him at the vineyard – he’d been one of the many extra hired hands they used when the grapes were ready for picking. That was a busy time – when all the grapes were ripe and needed to be picked and stored quickly.
Carlos was exciting and funny. Annette had first seen him when she’d heard the loud, clanging dinner bell and looked out of her bedroom window. All the workers were coming in from the fields to the tables that were laden with food for them all, but it was Carlos who caught her eye.
Normally, Annette never bothered with anything to do with the vineyard. She didn’t like being away from the excitement of big cities, and the place had seemed like a prison to her, especially over the last couple of years. Her husband, Marias, worked all the hours God sent and seemed to expect her to settle down here, like his mother, Miriam, had, all those years ago.
Once Carlos was on the scene, however, Annette amazed the household with her sudden eagerness to help out, as she joined them outside and offered to pour the wine and help serve the food to the workers.
Some of the hired hands, men and women who temporarily worked at many farms, offering manual labour, were grateful just to have food in their bellies. The Lambrianus were good employers who paid good wages. They were a reputable family, and had worked hard all their lives. They knew the meaning of giving their workers a good meal in their bellies, and money to pay the rent. Some of the workers were regulars who came back year after year.
Annette had watched Carlos in the hot midday Italian sun, strutting around and flirting with the young women who were working there. He also laughed and joked with the older women. He was a charmer and everyone liked him. Annette certainly liked what she saw. Tanned from the sun, and wearing only shorts and a white vest, stained from all the red grapes he had picked, he would flex his strong, muscled arms, knowing that the women at the vineyard were watching him. He was vain and proud, but as poor as a church mouse.
Carlos had noticed Annette hanging around, her long blonde hair swinging around her shoulders making her stand out from the rest. He had watched her serving the wine and glancing in his direction.
‘You English, sì?’ he had asked her one day, daring to speak to the boss’s wife and at the same time breaking the ice with an innocent question.
‘Yes, I’m from London,’ she had said, and blushed.
He had laughed with her and the others at the tables, calling her the ‘queen’, because only the queen lived in London, and here she was serving the wine.
Carlos had flirted with her, and she with him, whenever possible, although she always ignored him when her husband or the foreman were around, and especially when Miriam’s eyes followed her like a hawk.
Annette hated her mother-in-law and resented the way she monopolised Antonias. She had to admit that, in some respects, Miriam was a good woman who wanted the best for her family, but Annette wanted more than just to be a wife and mother, buried in the back of beyond.
She wanted to go to Naples and Rome and enjoy the clubs and the nightlife Italy had to offer. Annette had expected married life to be so different.
She had met Marias on holiday, and it had been such a whirlwind romance she had decided to stay longer. Seeing the vineyard in all its glory, and realising the wealth it carried with it, had made it seem too good an opportunity to miss.
