Читать книгу The Sense Of Courage - Davide Piccolo, Davide Piccolo, Martyn Fogg - Страница 3

Prologue

It was 7 o’clock in the morning of that cold 21st December, when Marco’s alarm-clock went off, announcing the start of his day, in more anticipation than normal.

Sleepy, he opened his eyes with difficulty, stretched weakly and sat on the double bed. Next to him was his fiancée Francesca, who he had been living with for only a year, was sleeping blissfully, with her hair covering her beautiful face.

After caressing her face gently and tucking in the sheets, he put on his slippers and, dragging his feet heavily, went towards the kitchen to make a quick breakfast, consisting of hot milk, fruit and cereal.

Having finished his meal, eaten while listening to the morning news on television, he put on a plain white shirt, a black chalk-striped suit and a pair of shiny shoes, and checked the result in the mirror.

The mirror reflected the image of a young man, over 6 feet tall, slim and with a fair complexion.

His brush-cut brown hair perfectly matched his brown eyes, which emanated the brightness that characterises the look of people on whom life seems to smile from all points of view and in whom a healthy ambition suggests the possibility that it could improve further.

After having fixed his still uncombed hair, he glanced at his brand-new wrist-watch, that showed the time as seven-forty.

Realising that time was pressing, he quickly put on a wind-jacket as if in a rush against time.

At 8 o’clock, the party to celebrate the start of the Christmas break was planned at Russo S.p.A., the firm he worked for as a manager and member of the Board of Directors.

After coming out of his house, he stopped for a moment, enchanted by the beauty of the flakes of snow which, slowly, but inexorably, were falling from the sky and covering everything indiscriminately.

Then, re-awakened with difficulty by that splendid vision, he opened the door of his flaming red Maserati Ghibli and left making the four hundred horses, champing at the bit under the bonnet, whinny.

Only a certain elasticity in his interpretation of the rules of the highway code and the exhortations for prudence in bad weather allowed him to reach his destination with impeccable punctuality.

For almost a minute, stopped in the parking place, he stayed to admire the firm’s luminous sign, unable to look away.

The memory came to mind of the day when two years before, just twenty-five years old, he had for the first time in his life crossed the threshold of the factory in which he had grown up personally and professionally, finally becoming the spearhead of the staff in the service of Mr. Russo, his employer and founder of the company.

Then, remembering the duties which awaited him, he went sure-footedly towards the entrance hall, where his secretary greeted him cheerfully.

“Good morning, Marco”, she called out.

“Good morning to you, Luisa”, he replied, displaying his smile for big occasions.

“You seem to be in a good mood”, she commented.

“Well, the imminence of the holidays always has that effect on me. Speaking of which, how are the preparations coming along for the Christmas party?” he asked casually.

“They have just been finalised, Mr. Russo is waiting for you in the conference room for his traditional end-of-year speech”.

Marco, thrilled, almost ran to the conference room, impatient to hear his superior’s monologue which, considering the excellent results achieved, should be unforgettable.

When he opened the door to the room, he was received by the thunderous applause of everyone there, who greeted his arrival with great enthusiasm.

“Here, finally is our hero”, exclaimed Mr. Russo with a broad smile and a cordial gesture of greeting aimed at Marco.

Slightly embarrassed, the young man took his place in the front row, beside another member of the Board of Directors.

The deafening noise produced by the crowd of employees quietened down good-naturedly, Mr. Russo grabbed a microphone and, after having switched it on, solemnly announced: “Good morning, friends! Today, as you all know, is the last working day before the Christmas holidays, which we have all been waiting for anxiously for weeks, wanting to spend the time in the company of our dear ones.

Before kicking off the celebrations, however, I’m proud to announce that this company’s turnover has increased by 25%, exceeding 5 million Euros, the result of expanding the market abroad”.

His words were followed by a moment of silence, witness to the bewilderment of his colleagues at such amazing news.

“For this reason, I would like to offer each one of you”, he continued enthusiastically, “sincere thanks for your efforts, professionalism and the great ability you have shown, talents which have contributed to the fortunes of Russo S.p.A.

Nevertheless, without playing down the importance of every one of you, I consider it opportune to underline the fundamental role performed by our Managing Director Marco Grassi, whose extraordinary work has allowed this company to make the leap in quality which has been proved in the last twelve months.

For this reason, I suggest we dedicate a special round of applause to Marco!”

Suddenly, the polite silence that reigned during Mr. Russo’s speech was broken by the yell “Well done Grass!” from Alberto and Davide, his best friends, and from the shouts of joy from all the other employees who, excited by the news, jumped to their feet in elation.

Mr. Russo, who in the meantime had got down from the stage, was overwhelmed by a crowd of employees, who involved him in wild celebrations to the rhythm of the music, useful to release all the tensions accumulated over the long months of hard work.

Notwithstanding that, he soon decided to return to his office, to enjoy a quiet morning.

Marco, instead, the principal proponent of that success, was constantly inundated with glasses of champagne, which very soon ended up totally soaking the elegant suit he was wearing that day, as if he had dived fully-dressed into a swimming pool.

As regards the party atmosphere that reigned inside the room, it did not seem to have been affected in any way, Marco was aware of the fact that it should not be like that.

The moment had arrived to give Mr. Russo a notice that would have overwhelmed the history of his company.

Having received a last spray of champagne in his face, Marco took his leave from his colleagues and, gathering up all his will-power, went towards his superior's office.