He did so. It was at the far end of Assisi, up a steep hill.
He hesitated, then confided, ‘You know she’s a fake, don’t you? The mask – the head – they were manufactured by the nuns. They’d be Poor Clares indeed without such a source of revenue.’
Hilda turned away with what sounded like a shocked gasp.
Had he misjudged us? As a sophisticated Catholic, the Franciscan no doubt held the view that a pinch of scepticism is the salt which brings out the flavour in faith.
We started off up the hill to the church of Santa Chiara.
‘A bitch – and French – there’s nothing worse than a male bitch.’ It could have been her mother speaking.
After the Franciscan ambience the church of Santa Chiara was ill-lit, gloomy. It presented a darker, more penitential aspect of faith. Hilda with her McDermott principles should have felt more at home, but I doubted it. She settled the collar of her top-coat closer round her neck, as though preparing for a confrontation she would have liked to avoid, and the final act of exorcism which one understood to be the object of our journey.
The two nuns who received us were dark-skinned, abject creatures, unlike the hearty freckled Irish of our Australian experience. They pointed out a few works of art, before offering, rather too hastily, to lead us into the Saint’s presence in the crypt.
As far as I could see in this dim, candle-lit interior, Santa Chiara was reclining, a shrivelled mummy, in embroidered robes and a wreath of white everlastings, inside the traditional glass casket. The nuns crossed themselves and whispered to us pointlessly in Italian, extolling their saint’s virtues, her miracles, and what have you.
I shuffled as close as I could to get a better view when I heard a choking sound and clattering behind me. Hilda had dropped her umbrella. Stooping to pick it up, she almost bumped heads with one of the nuns who had come to her assistance. So great was my interest in Santa Chiara I paid little attention to the mutterings and scrimmage behind me, and only vaguely realised that Hilda was making a getaway, as fast as she could, up the steps leading from the crypt. I finally realised what must have driven her. The candles, the incense, the glitter of embroideries, could not prevent me re-living a personal relationship with a barely human figure in another setting, life slipping from the dark skull as we watched. I would have sworn I could see a thread of garnet-coloured blood trickling from a corner of Santa Chiara’s mouth.
By now I was ready to follow Hilda. I fumbled for my hip pocket and wallet. My stiff fingers could not have separated notes if they had tried. I scattered money in wads, with no thought for denomination. The nuns bent, almost grovelling in their gratitude for the generosity of this pious foreign benefactor.
Climbing out of the crypt, my walking stick was no longer a help, but an encumbrance.
Hilda was waiting in the Piazza del Comune where our guide had impressed on his flock that it should rejoin the bus. Regardless of the drizzle she was seated at one of the iron tables outside the Ristorante Italia, and was engaged in plastering her mouth with crimson. I had never seen her use make-up before, or only a smear of almost colourless salve, as for sore lips.
She looked at me, to defy any possible criticism. ‘I found this lipstick in my bag. It must have been there for ages. Mother used to say, “If ever your morale needs a boost – if a lover or husband leaves you, for instance – buy yourself a new lipstick.”’
I flopped down on one of the iron chairs. I felt too groggy to discuss the philosophy of lipstick.
Hilda got up and began feeling me. ‘You’re damp – damp, Patrick!’ She arranged my scarf, turned up the collar of my overcoat. ‘Better if we wait in the bus. You might catch a chill, darling.’
She helped me up the step, happier now that a reason for existence was restored to her. I hadn’t the strength to resist.
Shortly after this we decided, or Hilda did, that we’d had enough of travel. Like most Australians who fancy themselves, we started hankering after our own Philistine environment and bourgeois habits, though we might not have confessed to it, of course.
Toiling up the steep path which meanders through the garden above the Park, Hilda was looking right and left. The unkempt grass, overgrown shrubs, particularly the monstera deliciosa, did not dent her apparent satisfaction with what she saw. ‘All considered, everything is more or less in order.’
She was dragging the mammoth suitcase she had insisted on buying, ‘Because we can share it and save ourselves a lot of trouble.’ The suitcase was fitted with wheels, one of which had been wrenched off in the belly of a plane. Now as Hilda dragged the suitcase, it limped behind her, lopsided and grotesque. Leaning on my stick, I hobbled along, making a third.
At the top of the path, where we reached the corner of the house, two cats emerged from the jungle. ‘Ah, Trifle! Tyger!’ Hilda began to wheedle. They glared at us, mewed at us once or twice, and slunk into the next-door garden.
Inside the house, Hilda began barging round.
‘Pfooh! Mildew!’
She flung open windows and doors to encourage draughts.
I took refuge in the kitchen, poured myself a dark-brown scotch and plonked myself down at the table.
‘Home! Home!’ she sang, opening the fridge and finding a carton of eggs the cat-minder neighbour must have left. ‘One forgets how good people can be.’
I dread deafness, but wished I could have sealed my ears against any further dialogue.
After she had boiled and we had eaten our eggs, and she had swept shells and breadcrumbs into a ‘Food City’ plastic bag, she announced, ‘We might never have been away.’ Then, eyeing my glass, ‘Not good for arthritis, darling, but we’ll overlook it on a night like this.’
She stamped in the direction of our joint suitcase marooned in the hall. ‘Shan’t unpack tonight. I’ll fish out your pyjamas – and toilet things – and finish tomorrow.’
While she was going about it I realised most forcibly that her mother had taken her revenge. Years ago Alex had said, ‘I often think, Patrick, you should marry Hilda. I don’t mean for sexual reasons. I’m sure my Hilda abhors the whole idea of the sexual act. But so that she could have something to look after. I’m no use to her, we know. But you, you silly old thing …’ She dwindled into a subdued but pointed laughter.
And this is what had happened. I was Hilda’s possession: a bundle of sweaters, flannel shirts, down to the very last and most ignominious layer, those long-leg woollen underpants. To be dressed and undressed. Cosseted. Her thermometer always at the ready.
While I I – the great creative ego – had possessed myself of Alex Gray’s life when she was still an innocent girl and created from it the many images I needed to develop my own obsessions, both literary and real.
If she had become my victim in those endless scribblings which I was faced at last with sorting out, I was hers through her authoritarian bigot of a daughter.
We were quits, oh yes, but never quit of each other.
Hilda came in. ‘Your toothpaste’s horribly mangled, darling. I’ll have to give you a squeeze of mine.’
Notes
Bouboulina: the pirate queen whose fleet rid the Aegean of the Turk in the War of Independence
fanella: Greek undershirt
brizoles: Greek rib chops, beef or veal
Dancing on Coral
Glenda Adams
Introduced by Susan Wyndham
The True Story of Spit MacPhee
James Aldridge
Introduced by Phillip Gwynne
The Commandant
Jessica Anderson
Introduced by Carmen Callil
A Kindness Cup
Thea Astley
Introduced by Kate Grenville
Reaching Tin River
Thea Astley
Introduced by Jennifer Down
The Multiple Effects of Rainshadow
Thea Astley
Introduced by Chloe Hooper
Drylands
Thea Astley
/>
Introduced by Emily Maguire
Homesickness
Murray Bail
Introduced by Peter Conrad
Sydney Bridge Upside Down
David Ballantyne
Introduced by Kate De Goldi
Bush Studies
Barbara Baynton
Introduced by Helen Garner
Between Sky & Sea
Herz Bergner
Introduced by Arnold Zable
The Cardboard Crown
Martin Boyd
Introduced by Brenda Niall
A Difficult Young Man
Martin Boyd
Introduced by Sonya Hartnett
Outbreak of Love
Martin Boyd
Introduced by Chris Womersley
When Blackbirds Sing
Martin Boyd
Introduced by Chris Wallace-Crabbe
The Australian Ugliness
Robin Boyd
Introduced by Christos Tsiolkas
The Life and Adventures of
William Buckley
Introduced by Tim Flannery
The Dyehouse
Mena Calthorpe
Introduced by Fiona McFarlane
All the Green Year
Don Charlwood
Introduced by Michael McGirr
They Found a Cave
Nan Chauncy
Introduced by John Marsden
The Even More Complete Book of Australian Verse
John Clarke
The Tournament
John Clarke
Introduced by Michael Heyward
For the Term of His Natural Life
Marcus Clarke
Introduced by Rohan Wilson
Dancing with Strangers
Inga Clendinnen
Introduced by James Boyce
Diary of a Bad Year
J. M. Coetzee
Introduced by Peter Goldsworthy
Wake in Fright
Kenneth Cook
Introduced by Peter Temple
The Dying Trade
Peter Corris
Introduced by Charles Waterstreet
They’re a Weird Mob
Nino Culotta
Introduced by Jacinta Tynan
Aunts Up the Cross
Robin Dalton
Introduced by Clive James
The Songs of a Sentimental Bloke
C. J. Dennis
Introduced by Jack Thompson
Careful, He Might Hear You
Sumner Locke Elliott
Introduced by Robyn Nevin
Fairyland
Sumner Locke Elliott
Introduced by Dennis Altman
The Explorers
Edited and introduced by
Tim Flannery
Terra Australis
Matthew Flinders
Introduced by Tim Flannery
Take Me to Paris, Johnny
John Foster
Introduced by Peter Craven Afterword by John Rickard
Owls Do Cry
Janet Frame
Introduced by Margaret Drabble
In the Memorial Room
Janet Frame
Introduced by Simon Van Booy
My Brilliant Career
Miles Franklin
Introduced by Jennifer Byrne
Such Is Life
Joseph Furphy
Introduced by David Malouf
Romulus, My Father
Raimond Gaita
Introduced by Anne Manne
The Fringe Dwellers
Nene Gare
Introduced by Melissa Lucashenko
Cosmo Cosmolino
Helen Garner
Introduced by Ramona Koval
The Last Days of Chez Nous & Two Friends
Helen Garner
Afterword by Laura Jones
Honour & Other People’s Children
Helen Garner
Introduced by Michael Sala
Wish
Peter Goldsworthy
Introduced by James Bradley
Dark Places
Kate Grenville
Introduced by Louise Adler
The Idea of Perfection
Kate Grenville
Introduced by Neil Armfield
I Saw a Strange Land
Arthur Groom
Introduced by Robyn Davidson
Mystery Spinner
Gideon Haigh
Introduced by Russell Jackson
The Quiet Earth
Craig Harrison
Introduced by Bernard Beckett
Down in the City
Elizabeth Harrower
Introduced by Delia Falconer
The Long Prospect
Elizabeth Harrower
Introduced by Fiona McGregor
The Catherine Wheel
Elizabeth Harrower
Introduced by Ramona Koval
The Watch Tower
Elizabeth Harrower
Introduced by Joan London
Out of the Line of Fire
Mark Henshaw
Introduced by Stephen Romei
The Long Green Shore
John Hepworth
Introduced by Lloyd Jones
Blue Skies
Helen Hodgman
Introduced by Danielle Wood
Dog Boy
Eva Hornung
Introduced by Yann Martel
The Mystery of a Hansom Cab
Fergus Hume
Introduced by Simon Caterson
Madame Midas
Fergus Hume
Introduced by Clare Wright
Carry Me Down
M. J. Hyland
Afterword by J. M. Coetzee
The Chantic Bird
David Ireland
Introduced by Geordie Williamson
The Unknown Industrial Prisoner
David Ireland
Introduced by Peter Pierce
The Glass Canoe
David Ireland
Introduced by Nicolas Rothwell
A Woman of the Future
David Ireland
Introduced by Kate Jennings
Eat Me
Linda Jaivin
Introduced by Krissy Kneen
Moral Hazard
Kate Jennings
Introduced by Gideon Haigh
Julia Paradise
Rod Jones
Introduced by Emily Maguire
The Jerilderie Letter
Ned Kelly
Introduced by Alex McDermott
Bring Larks and Heroes
Thomas Keneally
Introduced by Geordie Williamson
A Dutiful Daughter
Thomas Keneally
Introduced by Geordie Williamson
Came Back to Show You I Could Fly
Robin Klein
Introduced by Simmone Howell
All in the Blue Unclouded Weather
Robin Klein
Introduced by Amie Kaufman
Dresses of Red and Gold
Robin Klein
Introduced by Fiona Wood
The Sky in Silver Lace
Robin Klein
Introduced by Alice Pung
Strine
Afferbeck Lauder
Introduced by John Clarke
Kangaroo
D. H. Lawrence
Introduced by Nicolas Rothwell
The Young Desire It
Kenneth Mackenzie
Introduced by David Malouf
The Refuge
Kenneth Mackenzie
Introduced by Nicolas Rothwell
Stiff
Shane Maloney
Introduced by Lindsay Tanner
The Brush-Off
Shane Maloney
Introduced by Michael Robotham
The Middle Parts of Fortune
Frederic Manning
Introduced by Simon Caterson
Selected Stories
Katherine Mansfield
Introduced by Emily Perkins
Whispering in the Wind
Alan Marshall
Introduced by Shane Maloney
The Home Girls
Olga Masters
Introduced by Geordie Williamson
Amy’s Children
Olga Masters
Introduced by Eva Hornung
The Scarecrow
Ronald Hugh Morrieson
Introduced by Craig Sherborne
The Dig Tree
Sarah Murgatroyd
Introduced by Geoffrey Blainey
A Lifetime on Clouds
Gerald Murnane
Introduced by Andy Griffiths
The Plains
Gerald Murnane
Introduced by Wayne Macauley
The Odd Angry Shot
William Nagle
Introduced by Paul Ham
Life and Adventures 1776–1801
John Nicol
Introduced by Tim Flannery
Death in Brunswick
Boyd Oxlade
Introduced by Shane Maloney
Swords and Crowns and Rings
Ruth Park
Introduced by Alice Pung
A Fence Around the Cuckoo
Ruth Park
Introduced by Emily Perkins
Fishing in the Styx
Ruth Park
Introduced by Tegan Bennett Daylight
The Watcher in the Garden
Joan Phipson
Introduced by Margo Lanagan
Maurice Guest
Henry Handel Richardson
Introduced by Carmen Callil
The Getting of Wisdom
Henry Handel Richardson
Introduced by Germaine Greer
The Fortunes of Richard Mahony
Henry Handel Richardson
Introduced by Peter Craven
The Delinquents
Criena Rohan
Introduced by Nick Earls
Rose Boys
Peter Rose
Introduced by Brian Matthews
Fear Drive My Feet
Peter Ryan
Introduced by Peter Pierce
Australia in Arms
Phillip Schuler
Introduced by Paul Ham
Hills End
Ivan Southall
Introduced by James Moloney
Ash Road
Ivan Southall
Introduced by Maurice Saxby
To the Wild Sky
Ivan Southall
Introduced by Kirsty Murray
Lillipilly Hill
Eleanor Spence
Introduced by Ursula Dubosarsky
The Beauties and Furies
Christina Stead
Introduced by Margaret Harris
A Little Tea, a Little Chat
Christina Stead
Introduced by David Malouf
The Puzzleheaded Girl
Memoirs of Many in One Page 17