his family name. Would it be all right if I’m known as Montana when I’m here, and as – as Andretti when I’m at home with my brother?”
“You mean you and Rosa wouldn’t live here?” Antonio asked, astonished.
“Not all the time. No,” said Marco. From the way he said it, it was clear he was not going to change his mind.
This was serious. Antonio looked at Old Niccolo. And there were grave faces all round at the thought of the family being broken up.
“I don’t see why they shouldn’t,” said Elizabeth.
“Well – my great-uncle did it,” Old Niccolo said. “But it was not a success. His wife ran off to Sicily with a greasy little warlock.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m going to!” Rosa said.
The family wavered, with the tree gently rattling in their midst. Everyone loved Rosa. Marco was clearly nice. Nobody wanted to break their hearts. But this idea of living away from the Casa—!
Aunt Francesca heaved herself forward, saying, “I side with Elizabeth. Our Rosa has found herself a nice boy with more talent and a better voice than I’ve seen outside our family for years. Let them get married.”
Antonio looked dreadfully worried at this, but he did not pull his lip. He seemed to be relaxing, ready to agree, when Rinaldo set the tree rattling furiously by pushing his way underneath it.
“Just a moment. Aren’t we all being a bit trustful? Who is this fellow, after all? Why haven’t we come across him and his talents before?”
Paolo hung his head and watched Rinaldo under his hair. This was Rinaldo in the mood he least admired. Rinaldo loud and aggressive, with an unpleasant twist to his mouth. Rinaldo was still a little pale from the cut on his head, but this went rather well with the black clothes and the red brigand’s scarf. Rinaldo knew it did. He flung up his head with an air, and contemptuously brushed off a petal that had fallen on his black sleeve. And he looked at Marco, challenging him to answer.
The way Marco looked back showed that he was quite ready to stand up to Rinaldo. “I’ve been at college in Rome until recently,” he said. “If that’s what you mean.”
Rinaldo swung round to face the family. “So he says,” he said. “He’s done a pretty trick for us, and said all the right things – but so would anyone in his place.” He swung round on Marco. It was so dramatic that Tonino winced and even Paolo felt a little unhappy. “I don’t trust you,” said Rinaldo. “I’ve seen your face before somewhere.”
“At the Old Bridge,” said Marco.
“No, not there. It was somewhere else,” said Rinaldo.
And this must be true, Tonino realised. Marco did have a familiar look. And Tonino could not have seen him at the Old Bridge, because Tonino had never been there.
“Do you want me to fetch my brother, or my priest, to vouch for me?” asked Marco.
“No,” said Rinaldo rudely. “I want the truth.”
Marco took a deep breath. “I don’t want to be unfriendly,” he said. The arm Rosa was not holding bent, and so did the fist on the end of it. Rinaldo gave it a look as if he welcomed it, and swaggered a step nearer.
“Please!” Rosa said uselessly.
Benvenuto moved in Tonino’s arms. Into Tonino’s head came a picture of a large stripy tomcat swaggering on the Casa roof – Benvenuto’s roof. Tonino nearly laughed. Benvenuto’s muscular back legs pushed him backwards into Paolo as Benvenuto took off. Benvenuto landed between Rinaldo and Marco. There was a gentle “Ah!” from the rest of the family. They knew Benvenuto would settle it.
Benvenuto deliberately ignored Rinaldo. Arching himself tall, with his tail straight up like a cypress tree, he minced to Marco’s legs and rubbed himself round them. Marco undoubled his fist and bent to hold his hand out to Benvenuto. “Hallo,” he said. “What’s your name?” He paused, for Benvenuto to tell him. “I’m pleased to meet you, Benvenuto,” he said.
The “Ah!” from the family was loud and long this time. It was followed by cries of, “Get out of it, Rinaldo! Don’t make a fool of yourself! Leave Marco alone!”
Though Rinaldo was nothing like as easily crushed as Domenico, even he could not stand up to the whole family. When he looked at Old Niccolo and saw Old Niccolo waving him angrily aside, he gave up and shoved his way out of the room.
“Rosa and Marco,” said Antonio, “I give my provisional consent to your marriage.”
Upon that, everyone hugged everyone else, shook hands with Marco and kissed Rosa. Very flushed and happy, Marco plucked pear after pear from the golden tree and gave them to everyone, even the newest baby. They were delicious pears, ripe to perfection. They melted in mouths and dribbled down chins.
“I don’t want to be a spoilsport,” Aunt Maria said, slurping juice in Paolo’s ear, “but a tree in the Saloon is going to be a nuisance.”
But Marco had thought of that. As soon as the last pear was picked, the tree began to fade. Soon it was a clattering golden glitter, a vanishing shadow-tree, and then it was not there at all. Everyone applauded. Aunt Gina and Aunt Anna fetched bottles of wine and glasses, and the Casa drank to the health of Rosa and Marco.
“Thank goodness!” Tonino heard Elizabeth say. “I was so nervous for her!”
On the other side of Elizabeth, Old Niccolo was telling Uncle Lorenzo that Marco was a real acquisition, because he could understand cats. Tonino felt a little wistful at this. He went outside into the chilly yard. As he had expected, Benvenuto was now curled up in the sunny patch on the gallery steps. He undulated his tail in annoyance at Tonino. He had just settled down for a sleep.
But Marco could not understand cats, Benvenuto said irritably. He knew Benvenuto’s name, because Rosa had told him, but he had no idea what Benvenuto had actually said to him. Benvenuto had told him that he and Rinaldo would get thoroughly scratched if they started a fight in the Casa – neither of them was boss cat here. Now, if Tonino would go away, a cat could get some sleep.
This was a great relief to Tonino. He now felt free to like Marco as much as Paolo did. Marco was fun. He was never in the Casa for very long, because he and his brother were building a villa out beyond the New Bridge, but he was one of the few people Tonino laid down his book to talk to. And that, Lucia told Rosa, was a compliment indeed.
Rosa and Marco were to be married in the spring. They laughed about it constantly as they swept in and out of the Casa together. Antonio and Uncle Lorenzo walked out to the villa where Mario Andretti lived, and arranged it all. Mario Andretti came to the Casa to settle the details. He was a large fat man – who drove a shrewd bargain, Aunt Francesca said – and quite different from Marco. The most notable thing about him was the long white motor car he came in.
Old Niccolo looked at that car reflectively. “It smells,” he said. “But it looks more reliable than a cardboard horse.” He sighed. He still felt deeply humiliated. All the same, after Mario Andretti had driven away, Tonino was very interested to be sent out to the post with two letters. One was addressed to Ferrari, the other to Rolls-Royce in England.
In the normal way, the talk in
