The Sunnyvale Girls

by Fiona Palmer

  Flick leant towards him. ‘You know, Donnie, I think you’re right. And to tell you the truth I’m a little amazed that you noticed. What’s going on?’

  He chuckled. ‘Too many years listening to Pam and watching Home and Away, I reckon.’

  ‘You’re a card, Donnie.’ Flick pushed the rest of the slices into his hands. ‘Here, eat up.’ She slapped the shearer’s arm and stood up. ‘Better sort them sheep out.’ She gave him an exaggerated double wink before heading out behind the stands to the pens.

  As she pushed her way through the sheep, she called out for her pets. She knew two of them were in here. Penny found her first, pushing her head against her leg.

  ‘Hey, girl. Been good?’ She rubbed the sheep’s woolly back and head and put her in Bottle Top’s pen.

  The sound of the shearers back at their stands moved her along. She couldn’t leave Squeak and her mum for too long or they’d be snowed under. They still had a long way to go yet.

  It was eight o’clock that night before Flick was finally back home and showered. It felt so good to wash the dirt and grit from her body and her skin zinged from the scrubbing.

  While Maggie was in the kitchen, Flick padded barefoot to the office. She had ten minutes before dinner. She turned on the computer, waited for it to start up, then connected to the internet.

  Flick had decided that it was time for action. Something had to snap her mum out of her sulkiness. She needed to realise that she could still have a father who was alive, that Flick could have a granddad. Looking for Rocco was the only thing Flick could think of that could really help her family.

  Flick started her search with Rocco’s full name, Rocco Valducci. Nothing relevant came back. Next, she tried ‘Italian prisoners of war rural WA’. The first result was a link to the National Archives, which led her to a fact sheet called ‘Wartime internee, alien and POW records held in Perth’. She clicked on the Italian prisoner of war files, and it brought up more than four thousand items, all set out in alphabetical order like an extensive library system. Flick clicked again and the website brought up the first twenty names, starting with ‘ANGELOZZI Alfonso’.

  She rubbed her fingers together excitedly. She was on the right track, she was sure of it. She clicked to the last page, looking for the Vs. Just seeing the list of Italian names gave her goosebumps. She couldn’t imagine so many of them in Western Australia alone.

  Flick was so deep in concentration she was only vaguely aware her nan standing at the door. It wasn’t until Maggie rested her hand on her shoulder, causing her to jump, that she realised she was talking.

  ‘Dinner will be ready in five minutes. What are you looking for?’

  Just as Flick was about to say ‘Rocco’, her eyes spotted that very name on the screen. ‘Oh my God, I’ve found him!’ she shouted and almost jumped up. It was her turn to scare Maggie. ‘Sorry, Nan, I’m just so excited. Look, I found Rocco.’ She pointed to the screen.

  VALDUCCI Rocco – PWI63259

  Flick clicked on the link and it brought up another page of details.

  Date range: 1942–1946

  Location: Perth

  Date registered: 25 March 1996

  Physical format: paper files and documents

  Access status: not yet examined.

  ‘Nan, I’m going to request a copy and see what they have. How cool is this!’

  ‘Do you really think this is a good idea, love? Does you mum know?’

  ‘I can’t sit back and do nothing. He was your first love and he’s mum’s father, my grandfather. I think it’s only fair that we try to look for him. Look, I can order a copy of this. How amazing! I wonder how long it will take to arrive?’ Flick kept staring at the screen. Just seeing Rocco’s name made all the stories from Nan all so real. ‘I wonder if there will be photos too.’ Flick turned in her chair to look at Maggie. She looked rather pale, her hand clutching at the desk. ‘Nan, you all right?’

  Maggie swallowed. ‘I’m fine, dear. All this is just bringing back so many memories. I’m even dreaming about the days when I was seventeen.’ She smiled weakly. ‘Some days I wish I could live in my dreams forever.’

  Flick reached for her hand. ‘Here, sit down.’ She gave her the computer chair. ‘I’m so sorry, Nan. I didn’t mean to upset you.’

  ‘Don’t be, love. Those moments were so magical and to be able to remember them so vividly after all these years . . . I . . . I thought I’d forgotten most of it.’ Maggie smiled, and it looked like her mind was elsewhere. ‘Turns out in my dreams I can remember exactly how Rocco looked. He had this calming sweetness and deep, dark eyes that just melted my heart.’

  ‘Nan?’ Flick asked after a moment. ‘Do you mind if I look for Rocco? Are you okay with that?’

  Maggie steadied her breathing. ‘Well, I guess I’m a little scared of what you’ll find. At the moment I can pretend he’s still alive, growing tomatoes and building things. What if he’s gone?’

  ‘But what if he’s alive and well? Wouldn’t you want to see him again if you could?’

  She watched her Nan’s face change, the corner of her mouth tilting up. ‘Yes. Yes, I think I would.’

  12

  MAGGIE was grateful to be out of the cottage and away from her mother for a few hours, even if it was to collect the rabbits from the traps. She carried two dead ones back with her now, walking along the dirt track. They were a little on the small side but would still feed the family, and the fur would give them some money. Maggie loved their little tails and had one by her bed for good luck.

  It was a beautiful morning, the birds were chatty and the sky was a brilliant blue. Father and Charlie were out with the horses, seeding the paddock with wheat. It was amazing to see the paddock finally done and being put to use. Meanwhile, Giulio and Rocco had started on the new house. Mum had finally found a location she was happy with, nest­led in a big bush area where some salmon gums grew tall. It was a fair way from the cottage; she wanted it closer to where the new main road was going to be. The men had cleared and levelled off the area, and as Giulio begun work on the foundations and started making bricks, Father and Charlie had gone back to the paddock work. Everyone was in a great mood, Father finally getting his paddock seeded and mother with the promise of a new house. Phyllis was even attempting to be nicer to Giulio and Rocco, which meant she’d actually started to use their names.

  And the best thing about collecting the rabbits was passing by the house where they worked.

  Her mother had warned her she was not to dally near them, but Maggie had always waved to them and each day she’d walked a little closer. Now she usually stopped if she could spare the time.

  ‘Miss Margaret,’ called Rocco, waving as he spotted her.

  Before she’d made it out of the bush she’d quickly checked her hair and skirts. She’d grown awfully fond of Rocco and Giulio. Especially Rocco.

  ‘Hello, Rocco.’ Maggie met him by the edge of the house. Giulio sat nearby, working a pile of wet mud on a flat bit of tin with a shovel. It amazed her how he used his leg to lever the shovel to mix the mud. Then he would put it into moulds and make the bricks. They would lie outside until they were dry, and when they had enough they would brick up the next row on the house. Rocco had told her all this, as he was also learning from Giulio. He hoped to build his own house one day.

  ‘Nice day. More rabbits,’ he said, smiling.

  His English had improved with her assistance, and he was also helping to teach Giulio. It made things a lot easier, and even Mother forced a smile when Giulio thanked her for dinner.

  ‘Yes, another two. I hear Father is taking you out shooting tonight?’ she said, tugging on her long skirt.

  ‘We are excited. No shoot emu, scared Mrs Boss cook it,’ he said with a grimace.

  Maggie laughed and together they walked to Giulio.

  ‘Buongiorno Giulio, fa bel tempo, no?’ she said, hoping she’d got it right.

  Giulio stood up and grinned. ‘Yes, Miss Maggie. It b
eoofull day.’

  ‘It is a beautiful day,’ she repeated clearly for him. She walked to the front of the house, around the lumps of wood and drying bricks. ‘You get so much done each week.’ The bricks were now three high off the ground and she could see the size of the house. It was going to be wonderful, and they were so lucky it was being built for them. She turned back to Giulio. ‘It’s splendid,’ she said. ‘I’d better get back.’

  Giulio nodded and sat back down to make his bricks. Maggie walked off, holding her breath and full of hope, but needn’t have bothered as Rocco joined her. He had started doing this – walking with her to the edge of the bush before they were visible from the cottage.

  He walked beside her, so close that if she moved a fraction sideways their shoulders would touch.

  ‘Let me,’ he said, reaching for the rabbits.

  Their hands met and they stopped moving. Maggie was trying to let go of the rabbits but her whole body had frozen – not from fear, from the sheer delight of his touch. Maggie looked up into his deep brown eyes. She could get so lost in them. Like the big sky at night, they twinkled and held her fascination.

  ‘You very beautiful, Maggie.’

  She caught her breath. She loved it when he called her by her nickname. It sounded so personal and private, a little bit naughty but so sweet coming from his lips. He wouldn’t dare call her Maggie in public.

  ‘Thank you, Rocco,’ she said, finally finding her voice. She relaxed her grip on the rabbits and slowly he took them from her. Already she missed the touch of his fingers.

  They continued walking. Maggie thought of the moments she lived for nowadays. Collecting the plates at dinner or passing him a cup of tea so she had a chance to touch his hand. Fetching the rabbits so they could be alone, when they did most of their talking. Then there were the rare times when Mother went into town with Father and Maggie would teach Rocco and Giulio more English. Charlie would help too. It was their little secret. Charlie was becoming great friends with Rocco and Giulio too.

  Their steps were small and slow, neither in a hurry to get back to what they should be doing.

  ‘What was the war like?’ Maggie asked. She had been wanting to ask and had finally worked up the courage. ‘Were you scared?’

  Rocco sucked in a breath, his chest expanding. To Maggie it made him look even more grand and strong. Maggie was ready to hang off every word.

  ‘I didn’t want war. I captured in Sidi Barrani, Egypt. War not nice, Maggie.’ He looked away but not before she saw pain engulf his face.

  That was all he was going to tell her. She wondered if he thought it might be too hard to explain with his broken English, or maybe it was too hard to talk about. Did he talk about it with Giulio? She hoped so; everyone needed somebody to talk to.

  Maggie slowed. She knew the edge of the tree line was approaching. ‘I lost both of my brothers to the war. I miss them very much,’ she said, her voice quavering. She looked at the earth beneath her feet but a gentle touch caused her heart to jump inside her chest.

  Rocco had taken her hand in his. She looked at where his callused, strong fingers wrapped around hers. She tingled all over.

  ‘I am sorry, Maggie. I am sorry,’ he said.

  She looked up to see those beautiful eyes full of pain, regret and sadness. Did he feel responsible, being on the other side? Maggie could never blame him, even if he was the one who’d shot her brother. For all she knew, her brothers could have killed any of Rocco’s family, or Giulio’s. Maggie was realising just how ridiculous war was. Everyone had family, loved ones they cared for, yet they had to go and fight because of a few people who wanted more.

  Maggie couldn’t handle what she saw in his eyes; it was so raw. She reached up and touched his face with her free hand. Then she realised what she was doing. If her mother found her now she’d be furious. Maggie dropped her hand and felt the prickle of a blush rising. She reached for the rabbits.

  ‘Thank you. I’d better get back.’ Then she turned and walked quickly towards the cottage. She couldn’t bring herself to look back, but his touch kept her fingers tingling all the way home.

  She didn’t see Rocco until dinnertime. Mother insisted on packing the Italians their lunch in the morning so she didn’t have to see them till night.

  While Maggie waited for the men to arrive, she collected some water from the four-gallon water bag hanging from a beam and sipped it, trying to quench the thirsty ache in her belly. Or maybe it was a nervous flutter? She would be lying if she said she wasn’t worried about seeing Rocco again. She still couldn’t believe he’d held her hand and she’d touched his face. Maggie closed her eyes for the tenth time that day as she tried to remember every frame of that moment. Did it really happen? she asked herself again.

  ‘Make sure you get your church clothes ready for tomorrow,’ said her mother as she walked past holding the pot of rabbit stew. She’d cooked up both of the rabbits Maggie had skinned and cleaned. With six mouths to feed, they constantly needed food. Just as well the men were going shooting tonight.

  ‘Yes, Mother.’

  Maggie hated going to church. They all got dressed up and drove to the hall and the priest came out from Lake Grace. It wasn’t so much the church itself Maggie hated, but her mother’s friends – all dressed up and gossiping about the prisoners and Maggie. They hadn’t forgotten about her, and talks of her and Arthur were only getting stronger. And that was the other reason she didn’t want to go to church: it meant leaving the farm, leaving Rocco and being stuck with Arthur. He always asked to sit by her and would smell of greasy hair and moth balls. Maggie wanted to like Arthur; he was nice enough. But she couldn’t get past thinking of him as a brother. Rocco, on the other hand – well, he evoked thoughts she shouldn’t be having. Oh, wouldn’t Mother be horrified.

  She heard men’s voices and squeezed her hands in delight, forcing herself to walk rather than run outside to see them.

  ‘Afternoon, Father,’ she said.

  John and Charlie stood outside with guns in their hands. They were giving Rocco and Giulio the rundown on how to shoot them.

  ‘Maggie,’ he said with a smile.

  ‘Put them away, dinner is ready,’ said Phyllis, coming up behind Maggie.

  Maggie could sense the disapproval in her mother’s tone and headed back inside to set the table. Phyllis was still seething about John letting the prisoners fire the guns, which was against the army’s instructions. Rocco and Giulio had been shooting with her father many times before but now father was letting them do the firing. Phyllis still didn’t trust them, even after all this time.

  Dinner was a quiet affair. Mother was stony silent so the men just talked about how seeding was going or the house. Maggie remained quiet too; she didn’t want to join the conversation and end up paying for it later. If Mother wasn’t happy, no one else should be, especially Maggie.

  The only relief came from occasional glances at Rocco and the brief moments that their eyes met. Once, his foot brushed against hers and she looked up suddenly. He was waiting with a smile, and it made her heart soar.

  Maggie didn’t get to clear away the dishes, as Phyllis was angry and needed an excuse to do something. She clanked the plates loudly in the wash tin, and Charlie shot Maggie a worried glance. He knew Maggie would bear the brunt of their mother’s anger after their departure.

  ‘Well, we’ll head off then,’ John announced. Rocco and Giulio gave her a quick wave while Phyllis’s back was turned and Charlie grimaced and mouthed the word ‘sorry’.

  Maggie wished she could go out shooting with them. She could shoot – she was a great shot, in fact; Thomas had trained her well. But Mother would never let that happen now, not with two possible killers in their midst. Maggie sighed heavily as she wrapped up the bread.

  ‘I don’t know what your father was thinking, letting them have the guns.’

  Maggie retied the calico flour bag, trying to be inconspicuous.

  ‘If something happens tonight, I wi
ll be telling him I told him so. Can’t be trusted. You know that, don’t you, Margaret?’ she said, turning to face Maggie and giving her a stern look.

  ‘Yes, Mother.’

  Honestly, had the men not earnt their trust already? They hadn’t run away or hurt any of them. They knew where the guns were kept and could have taken them long before now if they had mind to.

  Maggie went to bed early, not wanting to listen to her mother’s ranting a moment longer. She used the excuse of getting sleep for church. She knew Phyllis was thinking of Arthur but she didn’t care if it meant she could escape to the quiet of her bedroom.

  The next morning she dressed in her best outfit, a white cotton dress with blue flowers printed across it. She took time to untie the rags from her hair that she’d set last night and tried to get the waves right. She even put on a little blush and lipstick that her mother had given her.

  ‘Maggie, can you bring out the camera, please?’ said her father from the doorway.

  He was also dressed for church. Maggie grabbed the camera, as she had learnt how to use it before the others. When she went outside she followed her father and Charlie to a large tree. Giulio and Rocco were standing beside it with the guns in their hands, and between them was a massive kangaroo. Its head came up to Rocco’s shoulders.

  ‘He’s huge. Did you get him last night?’ she asked.

  ‘Rocco did. Good shot. He said they shoot birds back home,’ said her father.

  Charlie stood next to her and whispered, ‘He didn’t want to ask Rocco how many men he shot while in the war. I bet it was a lot.’

  Maggie shuddered. She didn’t want to think of it either. She walked up to the kangaroo to get a closer look. There was a bullet hole right in the centre of his head. A clean kill.

  ‘Well done, Rocco,’ she said softly.

  ‘Thank you, Miss Margaret,’ he said. Then he dropped his voice to a whisper. ‘You are lovely, beautiful today.’