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“I was a very selfish boy, Joseppi. When I left Italy for England for work. When I met your mother. All I cared about was me. I lied to myself, too. I told myself that you and Cosima were better off without me the time that I left each of you.” He sighed heavily. “When I was in each of your lives being a father I was happy, and so selfishly I lied to myself that the one left behind was happier without me.”
I shook my head. “That was no lie. I was better off without you in my life.”
Now, thatwasa lie. The old man had taught me well.
He scoffed quietly. “You think I wouldn’t have stopped you from taking drugs?”
I blinked. My addiction wasn’t a secret, but I hadn’t expected him to have followed my career after I declined Rosetta’s offer all those years ago.
“I have all your records,” he informed me around a sharp inhale of breath. “Your sisters, they were big fans.”
“Were?”
He forced a tired smile. “Are. Rosa, she tried to hide it, but she was excited when I told them that you were their brother.” He paused and stared at me. His eyes grazed my face and then my hands. “I am not sure I agree with the tattoos.”
“Well, it’s a good job that I don’t care what you think.”
I was aware that this would probably be the first and last conversation we ever had since I was four, but it was hard to push away twenty-three years of bitterness.
“I can understand your anger. It must have been hard for you when I left.”
Nodding slowly, I spotted a row of photographs on a shelf on the other side of the room. Him and his girls. His girls and his wife. His girls all separate. His girls all together. None of his boy.
“Why didn’t you tell them about me? Rosetta knew about me and Mum, so why didn’t you tell them?”
He managed a shrug as his eyes momentarily fluttered shut. “I have no idea. Maybe respect for Rosetta.”
Did he even understand the word respect because he certainly hadn’t respected my mum.
“You know Mum is an alcoholic?”
His chest rose and fell steadily as he nodded. “I do. I spoke to her when I got ill.”
Another lie, this time from my mum. She’d said Rosetta had told her. What was it with my parents and their lies?
“She is sad that you had to experience this as a child,” he said before taking in a breath.
“Yeah, she used to say sorry a lot. Never did anything about it, though.” I narrowed my eyes on him. “I blame you for that, too.”
“I have much to be blamed for I think.” He forced a smile. “You hate me, and Cosima hates me, Rosetta hates me, and Zoe hates me.”
“Sad thing is, I’m not really sure that Zoe does hate you,” I replied. “No man has ever lived up to you in her eyes, Aldo.”
“She is wrong then. I am no man to measure against.”
Finally, the truth.
Pushing himself up the bed, Aldo winced with the pain, and I felt a pinch in my chest. I didn’t want to feel. I didn’t want to empathise. I wasn’t fucking Ronnie. I didn’t even want to be there.
“Was your childhood bad?” Aldo asked, settling back against his pillows.
“Wouldn’t say bad.” I shrugged. “Thanks to my best friend and his auntie, it was okay. Mum did her best, but the stream of men and the booze didn’t exactly make her mother of the year. Money was tight but we got by.”
A shadow passed over his face and he appeared to go paler. “I should have provided for you, but I did not have a lot and Rosetta was pregnant with Maria.”
“Wow, so you came home for a visit and got your girlfriend pregnant.” A thought struck me, seeing as the man was adept at untruths. “Actually, I’m guessing she was your wife when you first came to England.” He at least had the decency to look ashamed as he exhaled and looked down at his chest. “Was it the one visit or did you have to try a few times to expand your gene pool?”
“I didn’t always make the right choices. I came to see my parents and bumped into Rosetta. You and Zoe were supposed to come too, but you had the measles.”
