Let's Start Again

It happened almost overnight. One day, I was a forty three year old housewife living in Greater Manchester; and next I was the head of the family. I am in charge, the number one, the head honcho, I am “The Boss." Like I say, it all sort of happened overnight. Secretly I was delighted, but I could never tell anyone. It was never my life long ambition to control a family of “gangsters.", and it was a big family. I was happy enough being a housewife, looking after my husband and two teenage kids. Of course now I am able to employ someone to do all that for me. In my new role, the responsibilities bestowed upon me were to maintain a business which my father and grandfather built up. The business was rightfully handed over to my older brother Sal, who unfortunately died quite suddenly fourteen months ago. He suffered two massive heart attacks; very rare for a fit and healthy man in his mid forties. After he died, my other brother Arlo succeeded him. He did a mediocre job for a while, but then again he did have big shoes to fill. He could never live up to Sal's reputation, he was revered by all around him. Although he was small in stature, he possessed an excellent business mind. Arlo on the other hand is all muscle, and no brains. Evidentially he wasn't “management” material. Naturally me being the next in line, the responsibility of the business fell upon my shoulders. There was some talk about my younger brother Nari taking over, or one of my many cousins. However I think we would have become bankrupt if either had any responsibility to the family finances. Thankfully that idea was immediately quashed.

I believe I was cursed from birth. Cursed with brains, and intelligence. Even as a small child I outsmarted my two older brothers, and my father was aware of it, but could never admit it. My father wasn't a misogynist, he just didn't like women, and was quite vocal about it. Just before he died, Margaret Thatcher was elected into power, finally a female Prime Minister. However, his convictions never changed. He was resolute in the fact that women were created by God to produce babies and do housework. I married young, and fell pregnant soon after, which admittedly wasn't very clever of me! However, I can't complain, my husband is a good man, he runs his own plumbing & heating company; and does quite well from it. The family business never interested him, which suited me. In a way, I suddenly became invisible to the rest of the world, I lost my identity for a while, until now that is. As far as I can recollect, no other women in my extended family have ever held a real job. My auntie once worked in Marks & Spencer; which was hardly going to enable her to win business woman of the year. My mother, (God rest her soul), was basically just a skivvy to us all. Deep down this always frustrated me, and angered me. Women were looked down upon, and never given any kind of platform or voice in my family. I spent the best part of my childhood arguing with my father, and brothers. Even my male teachers were on the receiving end of my sharp tongue. If they chose to teach at an all girls convent school, what did they expect? Infact all my life I have had to shout to be heard. Now it is turn my turn to shine, now I have a voice, and I will be heard. Of course I know that my father would be turning in his grave if he knew I was now “The Boss”, and running the show. So my mantra each morning is; Isabella “Lets Start Again”. Time for some fresh blood and some new ideas for this family, and I'm going to be the one to do it.

My first “responsibility” came almost immediately after I was appointed. It was a straight forward task, which was dealt with quietly and swiftly. The collective of investors (all male) voted me into my new position. I'm sure there is one some amongst them who are just waiting for me to make one huge mistake. They would love for me to fail, giving them good cause to dismiss me and have a man take over. However, I must remain on good terms with them, after all, they help payroll the business. The majority of money we make comes from importing and exporting of various goods such as alcohol, steel, metal, and occasionally narcotics. We have people working for the business in various countries around the world. I do know that the operation has changed somewhat over the years. Certainly, the way in which my father used to operate things, was like something out of a Francis Ford Coppola movie. All guns, fists, and not much talking, just a lot of action. Sal changed all that, and adopted a more professional operation. He was a formidable character, I suppose deep down I know I also have very big shoes to fill. The house is constantly watched by special branch officers, which is fine. I've grown up with the police watching us, some have almost become like a second family to me. I even know some of their wives, and kids. I suppose it's their job, I suppose everyone has to earn a living somehow.

I'm acutely aware that there are some who resent my position, one being Arlo. Although he's only two years older than me, he still lacks the maturity and inner strength to undertake such a demanding job. Besides he's still grieving over the death of our brother. He's hot tempered, and irrational. He drinks too much, takes drugs, and along the way has made some very stupid and careless mistakes. I've lost count of how many times in the past Sal had to bail him out, and now he resents me for taking over the business. The one thing that keeps me going, is my Catholic faith. Despite my responsibilities, new and old, I still manage to attend Mass. I do often wonder if this life I currently lead was all God's plan, who knows? I know my name in Italian means “pledge to God”, so maybe this is my true destiny.

All four seasons have been and gone since I became head of the family. Everything was running smoothly, until one day I received a phone call; the kind of call I was dreading. A rival family wanted my brother Arlo dead, and there was a price on his head. He had made the biggest and most careless mistake of his life. This time I wasn't so sure even I could bail him out. He had been having a relationship with the widow of a man who was part of this family. The circumstances surrounding her husband's death are obscure. However his brothers deemed it an insult to his memory to have got involved with Arlo. I wish Sal were here, he'd know what to do in this situation. The truth is, I have no idea. I'm really torn. I'm so angry with Arlo for bringing this sort of trouble to our door; and yet I can't abandon him as he is my flesh and blood. Fearing for his life, he suddenly went into hiding. It seems the only viable thing to do is to get him out of the country, and fast.

Through my contacts, I manage to find out where he is. There wasn't any real time for long goodbyes. I wasn't even sure when I would see him again. All this for a woman, who probably wont even remember his name in five years time. For added security, he was given a new passport, and a new identity. The history between this family and ours dates back many years, back to my grandfather's day, so I knew there was no reasoning with them. They wanted Arlo's head on a plate. Maybe this woman was meant to lure him in, like a praying mantis, who knows? Either way, he has to leave on a plane, or in a coffin; and I wont let it be the latter.

In the early hours of the morning, I received news that he is safely on a plane out of the country. He may have resented me a little, but in the end he really needed me. So now I have lost two brothers. I recall one of my favourite scriptures from the Bible; “ Walk while you have the light, so that darkness does not overpower you; and he that walks in the darkness does not know where he is going." I remind myself of these words during my darkest hours, knowing I'm doing ok. I thought being the head of the family would satisfy my insatiable need to be recognised; how totally wrong I was.