Page 101 of All Mine
Etienne pushed a hand through his hair.
‘How late were they with their payments?’ he asked.
‘Between a week and a couple of months,’ Walker said, not needing to say the rest. Etienne rubbed his stubble on his jaw.
‘I think you need to be on the lookout,’ Walker said quietly. ‘Call me if you need me.’
‘Thanks.’
Etienne hung up. He looked out the window at the street-lit square, trying to assemble his thoughts into some kind of order. The Dougalls were punishing people who owed them money and didn’t pay it back fast enough. The Dougalls were the ones responsible for burning families and businesses and old people out of their homes. The Dougalls were the ones pulling the strings for Alex. But he wasn’t weeks late or months late in making good on his debt. He was four years late. What kind of interest were they going to add to that?
A taxi pulled up opposite on the square and Gabriella climbed out of the back seat, dragging a large bag with her. Isabella ran out of the front door of Tutto Mio and scooped her into a long hug in the dusk. Etienne could almost feel the intensity of it, and wished it were him she was holding so tight. Nonna appeared in the doorway, wiping her hands on her apron as she waited for the opportunity to hug her other granddaughter.
At least he’d done the right thing by Isabella. She was safe even if he wasn’t. He’d made sure of that.
‘Ooh, look, you’re on the telly!’ Fred pointed at the television and Etienne turned away from Isabella outside to see her face on the screen instead. Her grin was so wide it stretched her cheeks. Her hair tumbled around her face as she gestured and laughed. He remembered the warmth of her fingers in his, the gentle pressure of her thumb against his skin. He turned away, unable to watch it any more.
‘I’m going to meet Walker and Fox for a drink,’ he called to Fred, who gave him a double thumbs up from the armchair.
Chapter Fifty-Three
Isabella
An hour or so later, after a catch-up in the flat with Gabi and Nonna, Isabella offered Gabi a preview of the restaurant. She felt a rush of pride as she watched Gabi turn in a slow circle in the middle of the floor, taking everything in.
‘I cannot believe how good this looks!’ Gabriella clapped her hands to her face. Moving slowly to take everything in, she trailed a finger over the vintage wooden tabletops. ‘It’s transformed,’ she said. ‘It’s gorgeous.’
It was true. The hard work had paid off and the restaurant was dressed and ready to go. Glass jars and vases of differing heights and sizes were on each table, ready for the flowers to be added on opening day. The aged glass mirrors on every freshly painted wall bounced light around beautifully, and the whole effect was calm and warm and welcoming. She couldn’t wait for the first customers to see it in a few days’ time.
‘I’ll get us all some coffee,’ said Nonna. ‘And some biscuits.’ Which Isabella knew by now meant she’d come back in with the rum.
‘Is Brigitta here too?’ Isabella asked. ‘Shall I call her?’
‘No, she’s at art class this evening,’ Nonna said as she disappeared into the kitchen.
‘Honestly, Issy, this is amazing.’ Gabriella caught her in another hug. When they separated, she studied her face. ‘So why are you not looking ecstatic? You okay?’
Isabella couldn’t help but sigh. There was no hiding anything from Gabi. But she put a finger to her lips and whispered, ‘Tell you later,’ as Nonna banged cupboards in the kitchen.
‘Daniel?’ Gabi whispered, frowning, and it took Isabella a second to remember who Daniel was. She laughed, confusing Gabi even more.
‘No,’ she said. ‘In fact, I’d forgotten Daniel existed.’
Gabi’s interest was piqued now and she opened her mouth to get the gossip when the front door banged open and a large man in a black leather jacket stepped inside. His hair was thinning on top and swept back with oil. Another man stood behind him in the entrance. Slightly younger looking but with the same thinning widow’s peak.
‘Is it a delivery?’ Isabella called, looking past them to see the van. He didn’t reply, but took another step inside, looking about him, surveying the place. The second man followed.
‘Sorry, we’re not open yet. . .’ Isabella said, confused.
‘So I heard,’ the man said, lifting one of the glass vases from the table in his pawlike hand. His knuckles were thick, and he wore a gold signet ring on one finger. He turned the glass in his fingers, inspecting it carefully.
‘Here we are,’ announced Nonna, coming through the swing doors to the restaurant, carrying a tray laden with coffees, biscuits and a bottle of rum. She stopped in her tracks when she saw the extra guests and looked from Isabella to Gabi and back again.
‘Now there’s a good idea,’ the man said, reaching for the rum. He let the vase drop from his grasp, and it smashed on the wooden floorboards. Nonna flinched as he grabbed the bottle by the neck and slammed it onto the nearest table. He pulled out a chair and lowered himself into it, focusing his heavy-lidded eyes on Isabella.
‘Shut the door,’ he said over his shoulder and the second man pushed the front door closed behind him. Then locked it.
Chapter Fifty-Four
