Teresa: A New Australian

by Abela, Deborah

  They were never, ever for children.

  ‘There were twelve cakes laid out for our special guest, but when we sat down to tea, there were only eleven.’

  No one spoke. Some children barely dared breathe.

  ‘The thief expertly arranged them so I wouldn’t notice, but you have not … fooled … me.’

  The heat of the midday sun singed the air. Teresa felt sweat drip down her back underneath her dress.

  Sister Pauline’s polished black shoes crunched on the drive as she eyed each child like an ogre choosing a snack.

  ‘Which of you snivelling, ungrateful imps did it?’ She thrust her nose into the face of one of the younger boys. ‘Was it you?’

  The boy shook his head and his bottom lip quivered.

  Still no one came forward.

  Teresa sneaked a peek at the line of children either side of her. Some were shaking as Sister Pauline came closer, her black dress brushing the dirt into a small tornado behind her.

  That’s when Teresa spotted Angelo and the trickle of icing sugar spilled down the front of his jumper. He stared straight ahead, unfazed by Sister Pauline’s fiery approach.

  ‘I will find who did it,’ she thundered, ‘if I have to keep you here all night.’

  Teresa leant forward just a little, hoping Angelo would notice her. She lifted her hand in a small wave and even coughed, just loud enough so he’d look her way.

  But it was too late.

  Sister Pauline had seen it.

  Her face flamed into a violent red. She took slow, deliberate steps towards Angelo, her eyes fixed on his offending jumper. Her shadow covered him in an inky veil, and in a calm, whispered voice, she asked. ‘What is that?’

  Angelo looked down and it was only then that he saw it too.

  Sister Pauline pressed her finger against the white powder before lifting it to her lips and tasting it.

  ‘Icing sugar,’ she declared. ‘How did this get on your jumper?’

  Angelo’s eyes flicked to the front gate, as if he was thinking of making a run for it, but before he could move, Sister Pauline grabbed him by his ear and dragged him into the middle of the yard.

  ‘What’s going to happen to him?’ Teresa whispered, but Anna said nothing. She’d seen where Sister Pauline’s rage could lead.

  Angelo was ordered to bend over and put his hands on his knees. Teresa watched him do as he was told.

  Sister Pauline nodded at Sister Mida, who hurried over. She whispered in her ear and a small, almost imperceptible smile lifted into Sister Mida’s lips before she scurried into the convent.

  From the folds of her dress, Sister Pauline withdrew a cane. She raised it high into the air and brought it down in a sharp thwack! against Angelo’s legs.

  Teresa flinched.

  The nun again lifted the cane as high as her arm would stretch before bringing it down, this time with even more force.

  ‘Ungrateful … child!’ The cane cut through the air, punctuating her words. ‘You are never … to take anything … that is not … yours.’

  Teresa wanted to make the beating stop but she was paralysed by fear, unable to move.

  Sister Felicity stared on helplessly. Her hand clamped across her mouth as if trying to stop a scream.

  Angelo stared straight ahead, refusing to make a sound.

  Not a cry or a whimper. Nothing.

  This seemed to make Sister Pauline angrier. She swung the cane even harder. It sliced through the air again and again.

  Each time Teresa felt the sting as if she was being beaten.

  Finally, Sister Pauline stopped. Her forehead glistened with sweat. Strands of hair escaped from beneath her veil and she struggled to catch her breath.

  ‘Turn around, boy.’

  Angelo carefully straightened, turning slowly toward her. His face was blotched and red and his teeth were clenched. Teresa knew he was in pain. No one could suffer a caning like that and not be.

  The sister pointed to a lamp post. ‘You are to stand there until I say you can leave. You will not be given lunch or dinner. You’ve had more than your fill for today.’

  Angelo walked across the yard. Each step he took looked as if he was walking on broken glass.

  He stood beside the post. His eyes had a strange emptiness to them.

  The sun prickled the air with its burning heat. The drone of cicadas washed over them in waves.

  When Sister Mida reappeared she was carrying a length of chain.

  Sister Felicity stepped forward to object. ‘Sister, I think –’

  ‘We are here to teach these children right from wrong.’ Sister Pauline cut her off. ‘If we don’t, we are failing them and our duty to God.’

  ‘But perhaps there’s another way to –’

  ‘This boy has chosen his fate, I am simply delivering it.’

  ‘But –’

  ‘Enough!’ Her voice was so loud it echoed around the courtyard.

  Sister Mida wound the chain around Angelo’s leg and the lamp post before snapping the padlock shut.

  Sister Pauline slipped the cane back into her pocket. Her breath had calmed and she spoke in a voice that was eerily quiet. ‘We will not tolerate liars and thieves at this convent. All of you, go to your rooms.’

  Later that night, Teresa woke from a dream that left her feeling uneasy. She pushed back her blankets and tiptoed to the window. In the triangle of light spilling from the lamp post outside, she could see Angelo. He was hunched over, with his arms wrapped around his knees.

  The chain was still tied to his leg.

  Teresa sneaked back to her bed, slipped her hand into her bag and crept outside.

  The front door was locked but a side window had been left open to let in the breeze. She climbed through and hurried across the yard as quietly as she could. It wasn’t until she was standing in front of Angelo that he looked up.

  ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘Go away,’ he hissed.

  Part of her wanted to leave him there but she couldn’t. Not after what had happened.

  ‘I’ve brought you something to eat.’ She held out the piece of bread she’d hidden in her pocket during dinner.

  She knew he wanted to turn away but also that he hadn’t eaten since the stolen cake.

  ‘Go on.’ Teresa held it closer. ‘You should eat.’

  He took the bread and gulped it down in a few short bites.

  She sank down beside him.

  In the dim light, Teresa saw the marks the chain had made on his ankle.

  ‘Does it hurt?’

  Angelo said nothing.

  They sat for a few moments in silence.

  ‘It’s not right what Sister Pauline did. She should never have hit you like that. It was just a stupid cake.’

  ‘And arancia.’

  ‘Arancia?’

  Angelo cupped his hands to form a ball. ‘The fruit.’

  ‘An orange?’ Teresa guessed.

  ‘Si.’

  ‘You stole an orange too?’

  He nodded. ‘It was very good.’

  Teresa shook her head and smiled. ‘The cake wasn’t enough?’

  ‘In Italy, every night after we eat, my papa, he cut the skin like a … a …’ he made a hissing noise and drew a long coil in the air with his finger.

  ‘A snake.’

  ‘Si. He give small piece for everyone.’ He smiled. ‘Arancia smell is like my papa. Like he is with me again. I take orange to think of him.’

  ‘And the cake?’

  He shrugged. ‘I was hungry.’

  ‘Where is your papa now?’

  Angelo sneaked a quick look at Teresa, as if checking he could trust her.

  ‘Gone.’

  ‘Gone where?’

  He stared at the chain around his ankle. ‘My family live in Roma. It was Sunday. We have lunch after church. My famiglia. Papa, Mama, Nonna. Everyone. We hear noise. Planes. British drop bombs. Everything black. I trapped in rocks for days. Men find me.’

&nbs
p; Tears fell onto his arms and left shining streaks on his skin.

  ‘Many people die. Old people, bambini. My famiglia all dead.’

  They sat in the quiet breeze.

  ‘Red Cross man say, they die quick, so I no worry. He think I will feel better, but I hit him and shout … is not fair.’ He fell forward onto his arms and cried. ‘Is not fair.’

  Teresa moved closer, so her knees touched his. She didn’t know what to say, so she just sat with him, as his whole body shook with grief.

  ‘When families come to convent, is worse. Like a pain. Everyone laughing, talking. I see your mama and papa. I see you happy. I miss my famiglia, my sister’ – he smiled a little – ‘and she was …’ His face soured and he struggled to find the word in English. ‘She was …’

  ‘Annoying?’

  ‘Si. Annoying.’ Angelo wiped his hand across his eyes. ‘I miss her.’ The grazes on his elbows were blotched yellow with iodine.

  Angelo shook his head. ‘I think your papa is good man.’

  ‘He is. I’m sorry about your family.’

  ‘You give English lesson at night?’

  Teresa panicked. ‘Yes, but please don’t tell the nuns, if they find out they’ll –’

  ‘Can I have lesson too?’

  Teresa thought about it. ‘Do you promise to stop being so mean to the other children?’

  Angelo nodded.

  She smiled. ‘You can be my newest student.’

  The next day, on their way to school, Angelo lagged behind, his eyes red and puffy. Teresa lifted her hand in a wave but he pretended he hadn’t seen and looked away.

  ‘That’s so ungrateful,’ Anna said. ‘You help him and he can’t even say hello.’

  ‘It’s okay,’ Teresa said. ‘He just needs time.’

  A school bus pulled to a stop ahead of them and streams of children spilled out. Three boys pushed and shoved each other until a tall gangly boy with a sharp crewcut noticed the small group behind them.

  ‘There they are,’ he taunted. ‘The New Australians.’

  Teresa slowed down. ‘What should we do?’

  ‘Ignore them,’ Anna stood taller.

  But the boys stopped in front of them.

  ‘Where do you think you’re goin’?’

  They said nothing.

  ‘What’s wrong? Can’t you understand?’ he asked. ‘You no speaka da English?’

  Teresa tried to walk past but he cut her off. ‘Whatsa madda? You no understanda me?’

  ‘Nice one, Barry.’ The other boys fell over each other laughing.

  ‘You eata too mucha da garlica and spaghetti and –’

  ‘You stop!’ It was Angelo.

  The boy called Barry sauntered over and stood above him, ‘What did you say?’

  Angelo didn’t budge. ‘I say, you stop.’

  ‘Listen to the little dago, thinking he’s tough.’

  ‘He is not a dago,’ Teresa said. ‘He is Italian.’

  The boys laughed as if it was the funniest thing they’d ever heard. ‘Same thing.’

  Teresa burned. ‘Say you’re sorry.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Say sorry.’

  ‘And what if I don’t?’

  ‘Then you’ll have me to deal with as well.’ Anna stepped close to Teresa and crossed her arms.

  Barry mimicked her English accent. ‘Then you’ll have me to deal with as well. We’ve got a little Pommie here too.’

  ‘Whingeing Pom,’ one of the others snarled.

  ‘As if two girls could beat me,’ Barry said.

  ‘Three girls.’ Kristina stood beside Anna.

  This made Barry laugh even more. ‘Three girls against three boys. They don’t breed them very smart at that Catholic school.’

  ‘And me.’ Angelo pushed his chest out as much as he could.

  The four of them lined up against the three boys as the school bell clanged in the distance.

  ‘I gotta go, Barry,’ one of the boys said. ‘If I’m late again, I’ll be on detention and me ma’ll kill me.’

  ‘Me too. Sorry, Baz.’

  They ran off, leaving Barry on his own, looking much less intimidating without his friends.

  ‘We need to go, too.’ Teresa smiled and walked around him.

  ‘Have a nice day,’ Anna said with a wave.

  Kristina added proudly, ‘Have a perfectly extraordinary day.’

  The four convent children made their way to school, each wearing a victorious smile.

  ‘They’re here!’

  Teresa and Anna jumped up from the seat in the garden as a taxi pulled into the courtyard.

  Mama flung open the door and swept them into her arms. ‘My beautiful girls! It feels so long since we’ve seen you.’

  Her papa paid the driver, hurried over and lifted each of them into the air. ‘Who’s ready for a picnic?’

  They strolled down to the river and spread a picnic blanket on the grassy bank.

  ‘What’s for lunch?’ After another month of eating convent food, Teresa’s mouth watered at the thought of what was in her mother’s picnic basket.

  ‘I’ve made you ravioli.’

  Teresa squealed. ‘My favourite! Anna, you’re going to love ravioli.’

  Her mama dished out plump squares of pasta drizzled with rich tomato sauce. Anna’s eyes widened as she tried her first one. ‘I wish Cook would make food like this.’

  The girls told Mama and Papa everything that had been happening, including the time a possum climbed through their window at night and fell on Kristina. She got such a fright, she had to share Teresa’s bed and kept her awake for the rest of the night worried there’d be more.

  They told them about how their night lessons were going and about standing up to the bullies.

  Papa had barely said a word since they’d arrived and he hadn’t eaten many of his ravioli either.

  ‘Is something wrong, Papa?’

  He took a deep breath. ‘We have some news.’

  Teresa studied his face and couldn’t tell if it was good or bad news. ‘Has something happened? Is it Nanna? Or George?’

  ‘No, everyone’s fine,’ he answered. ‘It’s about the house. There’s still a lot of work to do but it has two bedrooms, a bathroom and the kitchen will be finished this afternoon. So it means you can come home.’

  Teresa lowered her plate. ‘I can?’

  ‘You’re finally going home.’ Anna did her best to sound cheery. ‘No more convent food or Sister Mida’s bad moods.’

  Teresa’s mind felt like a jumbled mess – thinking about being with her parents again but also leaving Anna. ‘When?’ she asked.

  ‘We thought we’d come back for you tomorrow,’ Mama said. ‘That way you can pack and say your goodbyes tonight.’

  ‘Tomorrow?’ Teresa asked. ‘That soon?’

  ‘Will that be enough time?’ Teresa’s papa broke into a cheeky grin. ‘For both of you?’

  Teresa frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

  He reached into his pocket and handed her an envelope. ‘This will explain everything.’

  Teresa opened the letter. It looked official and on the letterhead was written, The Department of Child Welfare.

  She read it aloud.

  Dear Mr and Mrs Fontana,

  It was a great pleasure to meet you both. We have thoroughly considered your application and find that in light of your excellent references and outstanding contributions to the Allied war effort in Malta, as well as your hard work in making the best life for yourself and your daughter since settling in Australia, that we have no hesitation in approving the adoption of Anna Elizabeth Rose.

  There was more, but Teresa stopped reading. ‘Anna can come and live with us?’

  ‘If that’s what she’d like,’ Teresa’s papa said.

  ‘You want to adopt me?’ Anna had to make sure she hadn’t misunderstood.

  ‘Very much,’ Mama said. ‘We’ve been thinking about it since we first met you. Would you like to
be part of our family?’

  Anna stared at each of them. ‘I …’

  ‘Please say yes,’ Teresa cried.

  Anna tried to make sense of her thoughts. ‘After my family were … I never thought I’d …’

  ‘So is that a yes?’ Teresa asked.

  She nodded. ‘I would love to be part of your family.’

  ‘We’re going to be sisters!’ Teresa threw her arms around Anna so enthusiastically that they rolled off the picnic rug. Mama and Papa leapt to their feet, but the girls stopped just short of the river and collapsed into laughter.

  Teresa wound down the car window and took a deep breath. The air smelt fresh, and all around her were rolling hills and paddocks with horses and cows grazing on lush grass.

  Papa had borrowed a car from his Italian friends who’d even given them small cakes as a welcome-home present.

  It was sadder than she’d thought it would be to leave the convent. Saying goodbye to Kristina and the others was hard, but Sister Felicity was the worst.

  ‘I look forward to seeing you grow into a remarkable woman because you are most definitely a remarkable girl,’ the nun told her.

  Teresa had been trying hard not to cry, but she wept into Sister Felicity’s habit, leaving great soggy patches.

  Sister Felicity used her sleeves to wipe her own eyes. ‘What a blubbering pair we are.’

  As they got into the car, Angelo appeared at the convent door but came no closer. Teresa lifted her hand and waved. Angelo waved back.

  That was all. Just one small wave and he turned back inside.

  Her papa turned off the road onto a dirt track. They bumped along, sending a plume of brown earth into the air behind them.

  ‘Not long now,’ he called over his shoulder.

  The girls held on to each other and giggled as the car bumped over a cattle grid and a wooden bridge spanning a bubbling creek. They rounded a bend, passed a large weeping willow and climbed a small hill before coming to a stop in front of a half-finished house.

  Papa switched off the engine and eagerly turned to face them. ‘What do you think?’

  The two girls sat stone still.

  Some of the house was just a wooden frame while other parts were finished rooms with doors and walls and windows. There were piles of wood and bricks lying scattered among mounds of dirt. Bits of metal and rubbish lay beside muddy bogs.