In the weeks that followed Stefano's death, a kind of bond had grown up between Ragazzo and his master, a sympathy and understanding. Missing her brother, Rosa too looked more and more to Ragazzo as a companion. In some ways he began to feel himself more a part of the family.
Although he still worked in the chocolate-making shop, Carlo often took him out of it to run messages and sometimes he accompanied Rosa on a family outing. Then because of Rosa's insistence he began to go out with her and her father on the weekly round of his small cafes and kiosks.
And so he found himself every Monday bumping along in the road in Signor Carlo's pony and trap with Rosa sitting up at the front clinging to the rail while he guarded the two pails ready for the week's takings. They would rattle through the streets at a great pace, the trap swaying and bouncing as Signor Carlo touched the pony with his whip, or they might be caught in a dreadful street jam and find themselves overwhelmed by the tall buses and drays with their huge horses sweating and panting, the heavy smell of fresh dung all around them.
Ragazzo loved to be out and about. It was on the round that he met other men who worked for Signor Carlo, for it was Carlo's way, as his business expanded, to send for more men from his own or nearby villages to come and seek their fortune with him in London. He would set up the most enterprising in a kiosk or cafe, pay them a weekly wage and collect up the takings at the end of each week.
Always friendly and sympathetic, Signor Carlo was, nevertheless, sharp over money and it was on visits such as these that Ragazzo and Rosa, even as children, learnt the hard facts of the business. They learnt too, of the sour looks from the local shopkeepers, for Gatti's men kept their cafes open on Sundays, something much disapproved of by the English.
Amongst the Gatti men they were most welcome. The men had left their wives and families in the Ticino, so they were always glad to see the children. There were all kinds of titbits to be had and sometimes at the end of the morning, Ragazzo could scarcely down his dinner!
They got back to Holborn Hill about midday. Trade had been good, the buckets were full. In turning a corner in Fetter Lane, the trap mounted the pavement and one of the pails overturned spilling the money all over the floor. So they arrived at the shop to the sound of coins jingling and chinking as they tumbled round their feet. "Well Carlo," said Battista as he met them at the door, "you sound like a millionaire, even if you're not one yet."
Picking up the full pail, Carlo laughed. "Ragazzo, you and Rosa
collect up the money, bring it in and then Ragazzo take the pony round to the
yard."
"Yes, Signore."
Rosa giggled with excitement as together they refilled the pail, searching every corner of the trap for any stray coins which had escaped their notice. As they carried the second pail in, Ragazzo saw a strange gentleman standing in the shop and heard Mary Sherwood saying "Signore, this is the gentleman who came earlier, about the Great Exhibition."
"Good morning, Mr. Gatti. The name is Cattley. I'm Secretary of the City of London Exhibitions Committee. You'll have read no doubt of the Exhibition which will be held next year... or perhaps you have seen the preparations for the great palace they are building at Kensington?" Carlo nodded. "It will be a very fine affair with exhibits from all over the world, but my concern is for the City of London and the exhibits we can offer. We've had many suggestions, many good entries, but now we're looking for novelty - something original, and someone mentioned your chocolate machine." Looking at the machine rumbling round in the window, he smiled, "I can only agree. It would make a good contrast with some of the heavy machinery."
Carlo translated what he had said to Battista who beamed with approval. "Well now if you're interested, it would mean submitting the machine for approval. You would need first to fill this form, letting us know the amount of floor space you would require, the height of the machine and what it would involve in erecting and dismantling it. The exhibition lasts for four months, of course, from May to September." Seeing confusion on Carlo's face, he said, "Think about it and I'll call back in a few days to hear your decision." He handed over the form, "Good morning."
"Four months," Battista said in horror. "But what shall we do without the machine for four months? It will mean dismantling it just when it begins to work perfectly."
