THE GODMOTHER

Hello, and welcome to the latest edition of The Autolycan.  I loved the headline and hope you enjoy the flight of fancy which follows.  If so please tell your mates, Like it on Facebook or whatever.  I might need to rely on you for protection if Lucy Brasi comes for me!

By the way, this is a combined September/October edition of the blog.  There won't be a separate one next month but I hope to get something out again in November.

THE GODMOTHER

A police officer has described the Women's Institute as Britain's 'biggest organised crime group'

Daily Mirror

Ameriga Bonasera and her daughter, Maria, sat outside the room in which the committee of the Ladies' Luncheon Club were discussing Maria's application to become Membership Secretary. Ameriga was sure it would go well. Maria had been a loyal and diligent member for several years, surely this time she would be voted in to the position she craved, and with it the real prize, the cherished place on the committee itself!

Ameriga waited, outwardly calm. Maria waited, barely able to contain her tense, nervous excitement. The meeting broke up. They stood, their faces betraying what they were sure would be their imminent joy and pride. But the members filed past, laughing and joking, taking no notice of them.

She had not been elected. It had all been a farce. All their years in this country, they had trusted in American justice, American authority, in the principle of reward for hard work, no matter what your background. Ameriga's face hardened as she turned to her distraught daughter. 'They have made fools of us,' she said 'for justice we must go on our knees to Donna Corleone.'

'What? THE Donna Corleone? Capa of the Women's Institute family?'

'Yeah. Most powerful women's family in the whole goddam city.'

It was Donna Corleone's daughter's wedding day, and Ameriga waited patiently as Donna received a stream of guests who wanted to offer gifts or beg for favours. At last, the summons came, and she heard her own voice falter as she explained the insult, the humiliation Maria had suffered.

'I kinda hope' began Donna, coolly, once Ameriga had finished, 'dat you ain't gonna ask for no horse's head in da bed treatment. Already had three today. Worst thing I ever did, da goddam horse's head in da bed. Worked a treat first time, but now dey all want it. I've had to re-assign people from extortion, even racketeering, and dat's brung da goddam union down on my back, demanding more money cos da chances for a bit of graft ain't so good in da horse's head in da bed game. Even had da nerve to ask for a crèche for da punks' goddam kids. Plus, dey ain't enough horses to go round. Much more of this I'm gonna have to open my own stud farm.'

'Donna,' began Maria, 'we are the Ladies' Luncheon Club family, we never touch horseflesh....'

At this Donna raised an involuntary eyebrow.

'Well, not knowingly anyway, but help us and I can help you expand your business.....'

This time the eyebrow was quizzical.

'How?'

'Dey're planning a new venture. Wanna go into da craft fair racket. Need a partner. Wid an inside woman like me you could be dat partner. Maybe, senior partner.'

Neither Maria nor her mother expected an answer straight away but they could tell Donna was interested as she abruptly terminated the interview and summoned her consigliera.

'Da young Bonasera broad – promising. Bring her in. Take her under your wing. Induction, training, support. She's gonna be useful.'

'OK, boss. One more. A business proposition to break into the sew n stitch game. Sew n stitch is turning over millions these days and we're not getting none of the action. It's a good family, looks like a surefire winner.'

'Who da family?'

'The Soroptimists.'

'Da Soroptimists?'

'Yeah. And they're thinking big. Ain't just tea cosies and lace doilies, Donna, they're moving in on bootees, matinée jackets, entire goddam layettes; black market price of pink and blue wool gone through the roof. They've even got the muscle end of the business breaking into them swank houses on the far side of town. They're ignoring the cash and the jewels. Know what they're after? Knitting needles. It's true. Ever crocheted a shawl? Course not. Soon there won't be a nonna in the whole country without half a dozen crocheted shawls to choose from. Then there's bedjackets, rugs for their goddam knees.... We could tie this one in with the Ladies' Luncheon Club and their craft fairs, Donna, corner both the sew n stitch stuff and the scented soaps, the lavender pomanders, the heart plaques that say cute stuff like 'if Grannies were flowers we'd pick you....''

Donna's eyes lit up. It was a perfect fit. She'd worked with both families before. But she didn't forget Maria. Bring this one off and Maria could be Membership Secretary of all three families!

But Donna's star was not quite as bright as she thought. Unbeknown to her, the two families who hadn't been invited to the wedding were meeting across town. Each had a grievance against Donna, and they swore to sink their differences in a hostile alliance against the Women's Institute.

After hours of tense negotiation, the Capa of the Mothers' Union and the Capa of the Townswomen's Guild families stood and embraced. They needed no written contract. Each knew the other would honour her word.

'Baking!' they said together. Baking was the future. Not just huge crusty Italian loaves, still dusty with flour, but sweet and succulent pinoli cookies, ciambelle and cherry bocconotti filled with almonds and chocolate! It was perfect - cheap enough to be addictive, with promising secondary markets in weightwatchers' groups, bogus diet pills, Christmas recipe books and even phony backstreet tooth pullers. The cops would leave them alone – for a payoff in the form of biscuits, doughnuts and chocolate cake, which had the added bonus of expanding their waistlines and slowing them down if the going ever did get rough. There was just one thing. Judges and politicians. They'd need to be persuaded not to take an interest in the new business. That sort of persuasion needed someone who moved in the highest circles; who counted these people as personal friends. Someone with the financial muscle to grease a few palms. There was just one person - Donna Corleone. She'd have to be part of the deal. They'd have to send a top emissary, and they didn't come more formidable than Lucy Brasi, surely the most dreaded operative in all the five families.

Maria, meanwhile, had been placed on the fast track induction programme. She already knew the family mission statement and vision off by heart, and was making good progress with principles, aims, objectives, targets, key performance indicators and all the rest. And the policies! There were so many – Equality and Diversity (to be minimised), Environmental Impact (to be maximised), Health and Safety at Work (at least that was a short one), Disciplinary Policy (another short one – whatever Donna decided in any given case.) At the moment she was stuck into one of the longer ones – the Grievance Procedure.

The appointed day arrived, as did the emissary from the other two families. Maria greeted her exactly as per the documented procedure set out in the Client and Customer Relations policy. Donna smiled. She liked a quick learner.

But from then on things went downhill. Lucy took too much for granted. Assumed Donna would agree. Failed to show full respect.

Eventually the Capa cut in, coldly, harshly. ' I thank you for da invitation, but I cannot be a party to your venture. Baking is not for this family. They call me their Godmother. I have responsibilities, I worry about calories, cholesterol, saturated fats. I will not inflict this on our people. Thank you and goodbye.'

It was then that Lucy Brasi made the fatal mistake. Instead of accepting Donna's curt dismissal she began to argue.

Donna cut across her in a cold fury. 'I did not wish to hold a grievance against your families, but you leave me no choice.'

Maria - bright, alert – had anticipated the development and pushed the grievance procedure across to Donna, open at the horse's head page. Donna shook her head. Maria flipped the page and whispered in her ear. A smile crossed Donna's face. Then she scowled at the emissary.

'Do you have a recipe for torta della nonna with you?'

'Of course.'

'Why should I not send a dead fish back to your two families wrapped in your Grandmother's Tart recipe? To say that you sleep wid da fishes?'

There was a stunned silence although Lucy betrayed no emotion beyond an insolent shrug.

'You disgust me. You are fit to talk only to my assistant. Maria!'

This was Maria's moment. She thrilled as she led the feared emissary into a side room.

'Now wise up and wise up good' she began - she had inadvertently been given an outdated copy of the Guidelines to the Communication Policy – 'we can play this one of two ways. You want all out war between the five families? OK, you can have it. I guess your Capa might disapprove though. I hear she breaks things when she disapproves.'

There was silence and the smallest shake of the head.

'Or you can co-operate.'

'How?'

'OK. Here's da deal. I don't care how you get 'em, but get da membership lists of both da Townswomen's Guild and da Mother's Union and pass 'em to me. In future I want all subscriptions paid over to da Women's Institute. In full. Think of us as da mother organisation. Your Capa won't know nothing about it till it's too late. Nobody gets hurt, but Donna gets to be Capa di Capi. Is it a deal?'

The other hesitated.

' Why should Lucy Brasi agree?'

Maria had heard the old tale of Donna holding a gun to a rival's head and assuring her that within one minute either her signature or her brains would be on a particular contract. She managed the hard stare but the words simply wouldn't come. She had a lot still to learn. But then she had an idea.

'Get me those lists, then never ever show up here again. Ever. Just disappear. But if you think you can make dough from the baking racket, go ahead. It's yours. Donna don't want nothin' to do with it.'

It was crumbs from the rich woman's table. But would the other bite?

Maria's eyes narrowed. 'Nothin'. Ya understand?'

Lucy nodded. They shook hands; they kissed. Some days later Maria reported back in triumph that she had delivered both the Townswomen's Guild and the Mothers' Union into Donna's absolute control. Not one single drop of blood had been spilt. Lucy Brasi had been neutralised. The other Capi still had no idea what had happened.

Donna was flabbergasted. The girl was a genius.

'But how did you....' she began, before words simply failed her.

Maria tried hard to keep her face impassive, but couldn't help breaking into a broad grin.

'I made her an offer she couldn't refuse' she said.

_______________________________________________________________________

ANAGRAM CORNER

ELLIE MAY SIMMONDS

MY!  I SMILE ON MEDALS!