by Monica Carly
Maria could not help contrasting it with her own quiet home, with just her father, always absorbed in his work, and Claudia, up at Oxford for much of the time. She used to bring friends home occasionally, but because the house did not have a lively feel the friends often preferred to congregate somewhere else.
She couldn’t help feeling nervous as they drew up outside a large house on the outskirts of Milan. Stefano tooted the horn and out flew a stream of people, headed by a plump middle-aged woman, with young men and girls all shouting and laughing, following behind.
Giulia had her arms outstretched and Stefano, who had leapt out of the car, was immediately enveloped. ‘Come, Mamma!’ he cried. ‘Come and meet Maria!’
Now it was Maria’s turn to be clasped against the ample bosom whilst an outpouring of Italian, which she could not understand, went on all round her.
‘Mamma and Papa think you are beautiful!’ Stefano was bursting with pride. ‘Come, we go in the house – they will bring our things for us.’
As they walked towards the entrance the others all crowded round excitedly. At the back of them all Maria caught sight of a young girl, perhaps about seventeen, holding a small baby in her arms. Her quiet demeanour and sad expression contrasted noticeably with the smiling faces all round her.
There were more exchanges between Stefano and his family, and he introduced them all to her, one by one, except for the girl with the baby. They all embraced her warmly – especially the two young men – and then Stefano said his mother would bring some refreshments. Later they would have dinner.
After they had been plied with reviving drinks and tasty delicacies, Stefano, accompanied by Giulia and several of the girls, led her up to their bedroom. At last the door was shut and they were alone.
Without thinking, Maria asked, ‘Stefano, who was the girl with the baby?’
His face momentarily lost its engaging smile. Then he replied, casually, ‘That’s Rosa, the servant girl. She helps Mamma with the housework.’
‘That must be difficult, if she has to look after a baby. Whose is it?’
‘He belongs to a cousin, but she has been very ill, so Rosa helps look after him. She is very good with him, and he is no trouble. He is a very fine boy – his name is Carlo. Perhaps you might like to help with him while you are here.’
‘I don’t know anything about babies!’ Maria was alarmed at the thought.’ I wouldn’t have any idea what to do!’
‘It is no matter – you will soon learn – they will show you. Imagine taking him out for walks! You will look so beautiful, everyone will stop you, pretending to admire the baby – but really they want to talk to you!’
‘You really are incorrigible!’
But he had made her laugh, and she forgot her anxieties, about the baby, at least. She still felt apprehensive at the thought of being among this large family, all jabbering away in their own language while she would have no idea what they were saying, and be unable to join in. She tried to express this to Stefano, asking him not to leave her there on her own.
‘I must work,’ he said, ‘and sometimes I will take you with me, when it is suitable, but sometimes not. Then Mamma or one of the girls will look after you, so do not worry. Now we will unpack, and then we can get ready for dinner. But first, I must welcome my wife to my home.’
Smiling, she allowed him to lead her over to the bed. This was more like it. Her fears suddenly melted away and she began to feel that she could be happy here. After all, it wouldn’t be for long – soon they would be going back to England – to their own home. She would see her own family, and everything would be wonderful.
‘Oh, Stefano …’ she murmured, as he made her feel very welcome indeed.
Chapter 34
Maria was surprised to find that they stayed over four weeks in Milan – far longer than she had anticipated. At first she felt ill at ease. It was disturbing to be surrounded by so many people, all trying to be kind to her, but with whom communication was impossible. For some reason they thought that if they shouted, or said things several times over, she would grasp what they were saying – but, of course, she couldn’t. Stefano tried to teach her some basic words and phrases, such as si, no, (at least that was easy), grazie, buon giorno and quanto costa? – which was all very well but as she couldn’t understand what was said to her, she didn’t know what the right replies were.
Gradually she got used to the atmosphere, realising they were all doing their best to be friendly. They kept greeting her enthusiastically, and hugging her at the least excuse – especially Gino and the boys – so that after a little while she began to feel slightly more comfortable. The house was full of life, with people milling round all the time, and voices that never seemed to stop calling out and laughing. Everyone smiled frequently, at least in her presence, but behind the scenes she sometimes overheard verbal spats – usually involving Stefano and his mother, or one of the boys. Once, it was Gino’s turn. As head of the household he never lost an opportunity to embrace her, to make her feel welcome, and he was holding her rather tightly when Giulia had walked in. Maria appreciated his friendly overtures, but possibly Giulia did not, as raised voices could be heard for some time afterwards.
Since the rest of the family were going overboard to please her, it was rather marked that the one person who rarely smiled or took any more notice of her than necessary, was Rosa. The poor girl looked white and strained, kept mostly in the background, and showed no particular interest in Maria. But once or twice, when Maria came upon Rosa unexpectedly, she noticed that when she was playing with little Carlo her face was wreathed in smiles.
It was strange the way they seemed to think she would delight in spending time looking after the baby. Rosa had obviously been instructed to bring him frequently for her to see and admire. Maria, who had had no practice in clucking over babies, didn’t know how to start. Anyhow, why should she? He was nothing to her, and soon she would be leaving him behind, so why get excited about him?
At first Stefano took Maria out with him when he went on his business trips. She enjoyed this, as they would travel through attractive countryside, her new husband being an attentive and charming escort. Although she had to wait while he made his visits, he would treat her to lunch in some delightful bistro, keeping her amused with stories about his childhood, or describing aspects of his family life. Sometimes he would become more serious and talk a little of the life they would have back in England. He planned to settle in the Wimbledon area, since travel would be easy from there to various places that he would need to visit. He would find a fine house to rent – somewhere she would enjoy living – and they would set up a real family home for themselves. Soon, he said, he hoped they would fill it with a family of their own.
Maria smiled, saying nothing. She had kept a secret from Stefano. As soon as she knew she was going to be married she had visited her doctor and started to take a contraceptive pill. Knowing Stefano to have a Catholic background, she was well aware he might disapprove – but at eighteen years of age, what did she know about looking after children? The last thing in the world she wanted was to be saddled with a baby while she was so young – plenty of time for that in the future. The present was the time to have lots of fun with her new husband, and not get tied down with responsibilities. Young as she was, she instinctively knew this information was better kept to herself, and she was always careful to keep the pills hidden.
Once when they were having lunch together she said, ‘Stefano, tell me about Rosa. How long has she been with the family? And why does she look pale and miserable all the time?’
‘Oh, now, bella, don’t you concern your head about her. She’s only the kitchen maid!’
He had laughed, and quickly turned the subject to a different topic.
At the beginning Maria had three full days out on the road with Stefano, but on the fourth she was brought back home at the end of the morning, as apparently the afternoon’s visit would not have been o
f any interest. After that she found she was sometimes left at home in the morning, possibly being picked up at lunch time. On these occasions Giulia would suggest she might like to fill in the time by taking Carlo in his pushchair for a walk in the park. Rosa came with her, initially, to show her where to go, but once she knew the route she was encouraged to take him out by herself. Fortunately, for the most part, he was a placid baby, but the third time she took him out he suddenly started to scream. Alarmed, Maria turned round and ran all the way back.
‘Rosa!’ she called, the minute she got into the house, ‘take Carlo, please! He’s making a terrible noise and I can’t stop him!’
Rosa might not have understood the words but she knew what to do, picking the screaming baby up and clasping him in her arms. Immediately the noise subsided.
Sometimes Maria would be taken to the dress shops with some of the girls, who would draw her attention to items of clothing they thought would suit her. Such forays into the world of Italian fashions were far more to her taste than taking Carlo out, and Maria would get excited by the beautiful designs held up for her to admire. If she looked doubtful, the sisters would immediately put it back and find a replacement, chattering away among themselves as they did so. Stefano had generously given her a sizeable sum of money, so she was able to buy if something appealed to her, and many of the clothes did. Her sound dress sense told her that they were good quality and she always knew if something was right for her. She began to wonder whether her suitcase would contain all these purchases.
Most of all she liked going out with the youngest girl, Carmela. These occasions were quieter and rather enjoyable as the young girl loved trying out a few English words, and teaching Maria some Italian ones. Finding they had a wavelength where they were comfortable in each other’s presence, Maria was not daunted by her and could relax.
She missed her father and Claudia more as each day went by. She frequently wrote long letters to each of them, and eagerly watched for the postman to come – but there were never any letters for her. Finally she asked if she might be allowed to telephone. Gino showed her how to put a call through to England and having dialled her father’s number she waited with bated breath. As the telephone began to ring she pictured Claudia, or her father, hurrying into the hall to pick it up. But although she held on for a long time no one answered, that evening or any other evening. It was puzzling and rather worrying.
Maria found she was spending more and more time with Carlo. Gradually she got over her apprehension and became a little more used to him. His tiny hands and feet were adorable, and if he had been a girl she would have loved dressing him in beautiful baby clothes. As she became more used to him she was encouraged to take part in his activities. She learned how to give him a bottle, and help with his bath. She supposed they were trying to prepare her for when she produced her own child, but she wanted to say that at the moment she really would have preferred not be so involved with him. She did not like the assumption that she would be embarking on having babies to look after so soon after the marriage. Somehow everyone seemed to expect it of her, and she did not know how to express her objections. Stefano was no help – he just said she made such a good little mother, so why not?
She began to ask when they would be leaving. Stefano said he thought they would be ready very soon, perhaps the following week. After a few more days he said he had arranged flights for the next day. Maria was delighted, seeing no reason to hide her feelings. After all, they must realise that by now she was getting homesick.
That evening she went to the kitchen for a drink and saw the maid, Rosa, sitting at the table with her head in her hands, weeping copiously.
Chapter 35
At last the day had arrived! Maria could not contain her excitement at the thought of returning to England, and to her family. Suddenly the past four or five weeks shrank in her mind, and all that mattered was today’s journey. Just a short flight – then they’d be in familiar surroundings once again.
She had been disappointed by the lack of contact from Hugh and Claudia despite all her full and enthusiastic letters, but eventually a letter had arrived from her father, just as she despaired of ever getting one. He said he was sorry he had not written before but he had been working hard, and had been getting home late. Maria supposed that explained why he had not been there when she’d telephoned, but she was surprised by the brevity of his letter. He said he would give her all the news in person, and was looking forward to seeing them both very soon. He did not mention Claudia, which Maria thought distinctly odd, but there was no point in bothering about that now – perhaps this very day she would be able to pay them a visit! She would try and get Stefano to agree, but she wouldn’t mention it until they were on the plane. After all, he had to say goodbye to his family in a few minutes and fly to a country that was not his own.
The luggage was rather a problem. It seemed to have doubled, if not trebled, since they came out. She had to admit she was returning with rather more than she had brought, having succumbed to the purchase of some tempting clothes in the shops. It was all the girls’ fault really – her sisters-in-law had kept persuading her that she would look lovely in various outfits, and she knew for a fact they were right. She’d had to buy an extra bag to accommodate those things, but it wasn’t just that. Stefano had assembled a number of large boxes – samples for his business, apparently – which had to be taken on the flight. It was clear they would have to pay an excess fee.
The car was outside and the boys carried all their cases and boxes out of the house. Everyone was shouting at each other as usual, while Giulia was sobbing and declaiming loudly that she was going to miss her baby. Gino kept hugging Maria, saying what a pretty girl she was and how lucky his son was to have such a bride. As always, Rosa stood in the background holding Carlo. She looked more miserable than ever – tears rolling down her cheeks. Carlo, dressed in new clothes and wrapped in an enormous blanket, looked for all the world as if he were about to embark on an expedition.
The moment came to get into the car, which was piled high with luggage – there was so much that the back seat was obscured from view. Everyone crowded round Maria to give her a last embrace, while Stefano was hugging all the members of his family and exclaiming over them. The girls held the door open for her, standing close against the car, urging her to get in. Stefano reached forward to start the engine but just before its noise drowned everything else Maria thought she heard the sound of hysterical crying. She tried to look, but could not see through the throng of people waving and shouting. But as the car rounded the corner she caught sight of Rosa, her head in her hands, obviously in great distress. Maria wondered if it was the thought of Stefano going away.
As they drove to the airport where they would return the hired car, Stefano kept up a barrage of chatter, ranging from how much all the members of his family loved her, and how they were going to miss her now, to the beauties of his country, its landscape, its food, and its wine.
‘Better than your sausage and mash, yes? Ah, you English, you not know how to cook. Here in Italy we make the lovely pasta, and the fish, that is divine!’
A noise caught Maria’s attention – she couldn’t make out what it was. It sounded a bit like a snuffle. She looked round, but couldn’t see anything past the boxes piled up on the floor. Meanwhile Stefano was off again.
‘What you think of the fine baby, Carlo? Very handsome boy – he will grow to be big, strong man, he make his parents very proud of him. I see you take care of him very good, look after him like you were his mother. I think you make excellent mother.’
There was that sound again. Puzzled, Maria tried to look behind once more, twisting round in her seat to see what it was.
‘You like to have baby to look after? Stefano like to see you looking after …’
This time there was no mistaking the noise – it was a baby’s cry.
‘Stefano! What on earth …!’
‘Do not worry, bell
a, we have Carlo in the car.’
‘What do you mean? Why have we got him?
‘We take him …’
‘Take him where? Tell me, Stefano! Where are we taking him? Are we taking him back to his mother?’
‘He will come to England with us. Carlo wants to be an Englishman!’
‘I don’t understand – is his mother in England? I thought you said–’
‘Maria, bella, now you will be his mother, because he will come and live with us. And very beautiful mother–’
‘Don’t you start that again! You expect me to look after him? But I’ve told you, I don’t know anything about babies, and I’m not interested in them. I’m only eighteen – you know that – and I want to have fun with you, when you’re not working. I don’t want to be tied down by a baby!’
By now Maria was beside herself with anxiety and resentment.
‘Please, Maria, do not shout – you will frighten baby Carlo!’
Sure enough the child was crying loudly.
‘What about me being frightened? How dare you trick me into this! Give me one good reason why I should look after this baby! I won’t do it, I tell you. I won’t!’
‘I give you good reason,’ responded Stefano, quietly. ‘You look after Carlo, because you are now my wife, and Carlo, he is my son.’
Chapter 36
The flight back to England was a nightmare. It was clear that flying was not one of Carlo’s favourite occupations. The plane, poised at the start of the runway, began to rev up its engines and hurtle forward. The louder the plane’s engines screamed, the shriller the crescendo of noise Carlo emitted, until it seemed impossible one so small could produce such a cacophony of sound. Airborne, the plane’s uproar suddenly decreased, but that had no effect on Carlo who remained intent on producing the maximum possible uproar.
‘Stop that child crying!’ ordered Stefano.