Teresa: A New Australian

by Abela, Deborah

  And she became reigning mathematics champion once again.

  Albert waited outside the gates every afternoon just as he’d promised, to make sure she arrived home safely. At first they walked in silence, but he soon started telling stories about his childhood and his time in the army and even began making plans for the future. He smiled more, and Teresa thought it made him look very handsome.

  ‘You should do that more often,’ she suggested.

  ‘Should I now?’ His smile widened a little more.

  He even finally accepted Teresa’s invitation to dinner. Mama made her special homemade spaghetti with meatballs, followed by fish pie. Albert rubbed his stomach. ‘I never knew food could taste this good.’

  ‘Would you like more, Mr Donovan?’ Mama asked.

  Albert held out his plate. ‘It’d be rude to say no.’

  For Teresa, Australia was finally beginning to feel like home.

  It was after another family dinner that Papa had a surprise.

  ‘I think there might be a present for you here somewhere.’

  ‘A present?’ Teresa asked. ‘Where?’

  Her papa frowned. ‘I’m not sure, but I think it might be under the table.’

  Teresa ducked her head and found a brown parcel. ‘Is this for me?’

  Her mama smiled. ‘Open it and see.’

  Teresa tore off the paper and gasped. ‘It’s beautiful.’ She held up a pale yellow party dress with a full, flouncy skirt. She held it against her shoulders. ‘I love it. Thank you.’

  ‘And that’s not all,’ Papa said. ‘We’ve saved enough money for a deposit to buy some land.’

  ‘We can buy a house?’ Teresa almost squealed.

  ‘Not so fast,’ Papa warned. ‘First the land, then we build the house.’

  Teresa thought Papa should look happy, but instead he suddenly seemed nervous.

  As if there was something else.

  ‘I’ve been talking to some of the men from work. Most of them were born in other countries like us and came here with nothing and now are working two or three jobs to build a new life. They said … they told me …’

  He struggled to find the right words.

  ‘Is everything okay, Papa?’

  Mama took her hand. ‘Of course it is. Your papa and I are just worried that we’ll be so busy with our jobs and building the house that we won’t have time to take care of you.’

  ‘I can take care of myself.’ Teresa shrugged. ‘And there’s Albert too.’

  ‘But we won’t be living here anymore,’ Mama said.

  Teresa frowned. ‘Where will we live?’

  ‘The land we bought is a long way from here. We can get to our jobs by train and when we’re not working, we’ll live in a tent on the property. That way we can save money on rent and build the house every spare second.’

  ‘We’re going to live in a tent?’

  Her papa spoke in a quiet, heavy voice. ‘The men said there are convents willing to take children in until their parents are able to look after them.’

  ‘They sent their children to a convent?’ Teresa wasn’t sure what any of this had to do with her.

  ‘Only for a short time, and only the men who don’t have any other family to help.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Like us. So your mama and I think it will be better if you live with the nuns too. Just until our house is finished.’

  ‘You want me to live in a convent?’

  ‘It’s a very good one, and the nuns promise they’ll take very good care of you.’

  ‘You’ve been there?’ Teresa struggled to make sense of what she was hearing.

  ‘We had to make sure it was going to be good enough for our little girl,’ Papa said.

  ‘The convent has a beautiful garden and the children seem very happy.’ Teresa could tell Mama was struggling. ‘It won’t be for long.’

  ‘Why can’t I stay with you?’

  ‘A tent is no place for a young girl to live,’ Papa said.

  ‘What about school?’

  ‘You’ll go to a new school run by the nuns.’

  ‘But you promised!’ Teresa cried. ‘You said when we left Malta we would live together. You said we –’

  ‘Enough!’ Her papa pounded the table. Both Teresa and her mama jumped. ‘It’s already decided!’

  Teresa had never heard her papa raise his voice before. Not at her.

  He held his hand on his heart. Teresa saw it was criss-crossed with scars from his years of defending his country and working on building sites. ‘I’ll work day and night so that we’ll be together again, but for now, we have no other choice.’

  It was Sunday, and instead of their usual family outing, Teresa stood on the front step of their building, her suitcase packed once again, by her feet.

  Albert was by her side. ‘You’re going to be all right. I know it. Anyone who can make an old codger like me smile is capable of greatness.’

  ‘Codger?’ Teresa asked.

  ‘A silly old bloke.’

  ‘I don’t think you’re silly or old. You’re clever and kind.’

  Albert smiled. ‘When we first met, I’d become so used to everyone avoiding me that when you said hello I wasn’t sure if you were making fun of me.’

  ‘I would never do that, Mr Donovan.’

  He looked into her wide brown eyes. ‘No, I believe you wouldn’t.’

  He reached into his pocket. ‘I want you to have this.’

  Teresa stared at the medal in his hands. ‘It’s your bravery medal. I can’t take that.’

  ‘You deserve it because of how brave you are but also for reminding me to be brave too.’

  ‘I’ll miss you.’ Teresa hugged him.

  It took Albert a long time before he whispered, ‘I’ll miss you too.’

  Teresa and her parents sat in the rattle and clamour of a train carriage travelling to the convent that would be her new home.

  She felt sick every time she thought about it.

  She’d said so many goodbyes in her life. To her ruined home, to Nanna and George, then Anna, but each time her family was with her.

  This time she’d be all alone.

  She took another breath to calm herself.

  Her mama held Teresa tightly, as if she was scared she’d lose her if she let go. She smiled at her, and then turned to look out the window. Teresa could tell she was trying not to cry.

  A taxi delivered them to the convent, which was at the end of a tree-lined drive. The main building dominated the yard like a stern master, tall and stiff and lording over a neatly pruned garden with hedges cut into rigid squares.

  Teresa shivered as they pulled to a stop.

  Her mama took her hand. ‘Here we are.’ She did her best to sound cheery while her papa looked away and said nothing.

  Inside, they were greeted by Sister Pauline, a plump, serious-faced woman who watched as her parents signed a series of forms.

  ‘All done.’ She gathered up the papers.

  ‘Can we go with Teresa to her room?’ her mama asked, a quiver of panic in her voice.

  ‘I’m afraid not.’ The nun filed the papers in a metal cabinet before slamming the drawer shut. ‘We encourage parents to leave immediately. It helps settle the children more quickly. If you’d like,’ she added, ‘you may come back to visit in one month.’

  ‘A month?’ Her mama asked. ‘But that’s such a long time. Couldn’t we come sooner?’

  Sister Pauline continued as if she hadn’t heard. ‘And you’re not to worry about a thing. We will take very good care of your daughter.’

  Teresa looked to her papa hoping he would object, but he stood silently in the dim light of the office, with dark portraits of suffering saints looking down on him.

  Sister Pauline rang a silver bell that sat on her desk. A few brisk steps echoed in the foyer before another nun appeared at the door.

  ‘Sister Mida, would you show the Fontana family out?’

  ‘Of course.’ Sister Mida’s black veil sque
ezed around her face so tightly her expression was forced into a permanent frown.

  She led them outside to where the taxi was still waiting.

  Mama took a brand new writing book from her bag. ‘This is for you, my darling girl. We love you so very much and –’

  Her hand clamped against her lips and she couldn’t finish. Her papa gathered her suitcase and placed it on the ground, wincing as if he had stomach cramp. He stared up at the convent. For a moment Teresa thought he was going to change his mind. He’d scoop her into his arms, say it was all a mistake and they’d drive away.

  And they’d be together forever, just as he said they would after the war finished.

  Instead, he hugged her without a word, holding her tight, until he and her mama climbed inside the taxi and it rumbled down the dirt driveway. Through the back window, Teresa saw her mama fall into her papa’s arms before they were lost in a plume of dust.

  In the silence left behind, Teresa felt choked with a terrible dread, and even though she stood in the bright sun, her skin goosebumped with cold.

  ‘Come, child.’ Sister Mida spun on her heels. ‘The dormitories are this way.’

  Teresa lifted her suitcase and followed her across the yard.

  The boarding house was an older, less grand building. Inside, the sunlight was swallowed by a murky gloom. Sister Mida’s footsteps snapped against the floor of the corridor and Teresa struggled to keep up as she scurried beneath paintings of grim-faced priests and nuns, all with cold, disapproving looks.

  The dormitory was a cavernous room, with perfectly made beds lined up in rows on either side. There were wooden boxes at the end of each one and small, bare tables in between. All very neat and very tidy.

  And all so far from home.

  ‘This is your bed. The bathroom is down the hall. Morning showers are at six, mass at six-thirty and breakfast at seven-thirty, followed by school, which is down the street. Any questions?’

  Teresa shook her head.

  ‘Welcome to St Patrick’s.’

  Sister Mida’s pinched face made her words feel more like a warning than a welcome.

  Her footsteps hammered into the silence before they dwindled into nothing.

  Teresa sank onto her bed and stared at her new home.

  Everything was brown. The curtains, the floorboards, the blankets.

  She felt as if a rope was tightening around her chest, making it hard to breathe.

  For the first time in her life she was alone, and everyone she’d ever loved had been taken from her.

  She curled up on the bed, buried her head in her pillow and cried.

  She wasn’t sure how long she’d been there when a hand gently touched her shoulder.

  ‘It’s not so bad, I promise. I know it feels bad now but –’

  Teresa peeked sideways at the girl leaning over her. ‘Anna?’

  ‘Teresa!’

  She sprang into Anna’s arms and cried even harder.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ Anna’s smile fell away. ‘Is everything okay? Are your parents –’

  ‘Yes, they’re good,’ Teresa said. ‘They’ve bought land to build a house and have asked the nuns to look after me until it’s finished.’

  Anna beamed. ‘So we can be together again!’

  She looked rosy with health. Her skin was tanned, her hair shone and her eyes sparkled in a way they never had on the ship.

  ‘Why didn’t you write?’

  ‘I did,’ Anna said. ‘Each week I sent you a letter.’

  ‘They never arrived. I checked every day.’

  ‘The nuns told me they posted them. I’m so sorry.’

  ‘I thought you’d forgotten me.’

  ‘Never. At the beginning, writing to you kept me from going crazy.’

  ‘So you’re okay?’

  ‘Yes,’ Anna said. ‘Especially now you’re here, and I meant it when I said it’s not so bad. It’s hard at first, but you get used to it. The food is okay, most of the other children are nice and the nuns too, but I’ll let you know which ones to avoid and … Oh, there’s so much to tell you!’

  She jumped up. ‘I’ll help you unpack and then I can show you around. After that, it won’t be long until dinner, and today’s Sunday, which means custard for dessert.’

  ‘Custard?’

  ‘It’s a creamy dessert. You’ll love it.’

  Anna’s bubbling excitement made Teresa feel better. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘You don’t have to thank me.’ Anna linked her arm through Teresa’s and helped her up from the bed. ‘You looked after me on the ship and now it’s my turn to take care of you.’

  Dear George,

  I’m writing to you from a convent. Mama and Papa decided it would be better if I lived here while they build our new home. It’s hard being away from them and I miss my friend Albert, but not the cockroaches and cold showers. The good news is Anna is here. She’s been looking after me and introducing me to everyone. Some of the nuns can be mean and slap the children or hit them with a cane and call them stupid or an imbecile. They say it’s for our own good and that we have to toughen up if we’re going to survive in Australia. When we’re not at school they make us scrub floors or wash sheets or work in the vegetable garden. Last weekend we had to polish all the windows in the convent until they sparkled. My fingers were red and cracked after that day.

  The other children are from all over the world. Most of them are kind but there is one boy called Angelo Moretti who is always looking for someone to pick on. Anna says he’s the meanest boy she has ever met, so we stay away from him.

  I need to finish this letter now because meal break is almost over and we have to go to English. Sister Mida is our teacher and she turns purple with anger if anyone is late. It’s true! Her face looks like a plum!

  I think about you often and hope you are studying hard to be a doctor because you’ll be the nicest doctor there is. Please give Nanna and your mama a hug for me.

  Your friend forever,

  Teresa xox

  ‘It’s easy, child!’ Sister Mida slammed her hand against the desk. She was yelling at a girl called Kristina who stood at the front of the room, not daring to move. ‘You’ve had that book all week but you sit there as if you’ve never seen it before.’

  Once Sister Mida was in a rage it was best to sit still and wait for it to blow over.

  ‘Well?’ she blustered, throwing her hands in the air. ‘It’s right in front of you. Just read it.’

  Kristina’s shoulders curled forward and her whole body began to quiver.

  ‘Oh, why are you crying now? I’m surprised you have any tears left.’

  ‘Cry baby,’ Angelo whispered just loud enough for Kristina to hear.

  She sobbed even more.

  Sister Mida seized her by the arm. Kristina let out a pained cry. She was dragged across the room and pushed back into her seat.

  Sister Mida scowled at her as if she was an annoying bug she wanted to swat.

  The class sat pin-drop still while the sister stomped back to her desk, her veil flying behind her like a cape. She sat on her chair with the weight of someone condemned to living a life far beneath her.

  Her plum-coloured face glowed. She blotted it with a hanky tucked into her sleeve, mumbling, ‘You’d think I was speaking another language.’

  No one moved.

  Kristina sniffed.

  Teresa fumed.

  Until she couldn’t stay silent any longer and her hand shot into the air. Anna gave her a warning look and shook her head.

  But it was too late. Sister Mida had seen.

  ‘What is it?’ Her words were like hailstones.

  ‘Excuse me, Sister, I don’t mean to be rude but you are speaking another language.’

  Sister Mida’s gaze settled on Teresa. She picked up her cane from the desk and slowly walked towards her. ‘I am speaking the Queen’s English.’

  ‘Yes, but these students are from countries where English isn’t spoken an
d …’

  ‘But it is spoken here.’ Sister Mida spat out the words. ‘So you had all better stop being so lazy and learn!’

  ‘But it isn’t lazy, it’s –’

  Sister Mida struck the cane on Teresa’s desk. The whole class jumped. ‘Don’t contradict me, you ungrateful child!’

  She pointed the cane at each one of them. ‘This country has given you the very generous chance of a new start, but unless you speak English, the opportunity will be a stupendous waste.’

  She glared at the children, daring them to speak up again, but was met with a wilting silence.

  Teresa didn’t know what stupendous meant, but she knew not one of these children was ungrateful, least of all her. She took a breath, ready to tell Sister Mida just that, but Anna gripped her hand beneath the desk, her eyes pleading with her not to say anything more.

  On the walk back to the convent after school, Teresa was still furious. ‘It’s not fair to expect someone to learn a whole new language so fast!’

  ‘Sister Mida isn’t known for being fair,’ Anna said. ‘She’s more like a runaway truck you have to stay away from.’

  ‘What if she had to learn Maltese or Hungarian in a week with nothing but a bad-tempered teacher to help? I bet she’d be hopeless even with a good teacher. In fact …’ Teresa suddenly stopped. ‘That’s it.’

  Anna turned back to see her friend standing on the footpath with a beaming grin. ‘Oh no, I have a bad feeling about that smile.’

  ‘We’re going to teach her a lesson.’

  ‘Sister Mida? No. We can’t upset her. She uses that cane on children as well as desks.’

  ‘We’re not going to upset her,’ Teresa promised. ‘In fact, we might even make her happy.’ She grabbed her friend’s arm and whispered conspiratorially, ‘And this is how we’re going to do it.’

  Later that night, Anna waited until the last of the lights were switched off and the sound of Sister Mida’s footsteps had faded away. She quietly opened the door and searched the corridor to make sure.

  ‘She’s gone.’ Anna wedged a blanket in the gap beneath the door to hide the light of their lamp and tiptoed back to a group of girls sitting around Teresa’s bed. ‘We can start.’

  The lamplight lit their faces and arms with a soft glow. It was then Teresa saw the bruising on Kristina’s arm left by Sister Mida’s grip.