Gucci Wars. How I Survived Murder and Intrigue at the Heart of the World's Biggest Fashion House

14 Bye, Bye, Birdies (S. 153-154)

Aldo was standing between us with a protective arm around our shoulders. Paolo was smiling broadly and, in that instant, I could just imagine how he must have looked as a little boy. His father was gazing proudly at his son and the returning expression on Paolo’s face showed love and affection. Aldo has just given Paolo a present to congratulate him on the success of his third Gucci ready-to-wear collection. This isn’t just any present – the gift inside this box was truly expensive – not just in hard currency but in the effort and thought that it had taken to track down.

There was a gasp of surprise from the relatives still seated at the table as Paolo lifted the lid. To us, it looked like any ordinary pigeon – to Paolo, it was the North American champion he had coveted for months. And his father had bought it for him. ‘You, my son, you’re always trouble – you always were and you always will be… but you are talented. The collection is wonderful – a true champion of a collection – like this bird!’ For once, Paolo was at a loss for words. The frustration and bitterness of family arguments is forgotten as he simply thanks his father for the best present ever with a kiss and a warm embrace.

Then I woke up, still in that warm, fuzzy, dreamy place and with a short-lived smile playing on my lips. Although it had been a dream, I could hardly believe that these events had actually happened just a few short years before – at the start of our marriage. I found it shocking how quickly things had degenerated to such a state. Since that family party and Aldo’s wonderful present of the world champion racing pigeon, my father-in-law had served time in prison (a punishment everyone falsely blamed on Paolo) and my husband – after the most terrible of family arguments – had been virtually ostracised by the family, left a boardroom meeting bloodied but not broken, and spent hours in discussions with lawyers seeking retribution and the right to use his name as an independent designer. Meanwhile, in a parallel life, Paolo still had his racing pigeons – a hobby he had loved since the age of 11.

We had many fond shared memories of pigeons. At first, I had never been able to see the attraction of his hobby, but after a while I, too, had become quite fascinated by these beautiful birds. It was no coincidence that pigeons had featured in my dream the previous night, as they were very much on my mind after the conversation we had had that afternoon with the doctor. This time, our doctor had been absolutely adamant that Paolo would have to give up his lifelong passion for racing pigeons. Although he had birds in New York and in Italy, it was only in Rusper that he spent, what he called ‘quality time’, in the pigeon coop. But it was a practice that was sadly making him desperately ill. If he continued spending time with his beloved pets, it would ultimately kill him.