by Fiona Palmer
Because it was such a nice morning they brought their cuppas outside and sat on the verandah, while the magpies called out their morning song. Maggie picked up a small bit of slice from the plate between them. Jimmy leant forward, elbows on his knees while the steam rose from the cup between his hands.
‘What’s on your mind, Jimmy? I can see something is bothering you.’
He shrugged and took a sip of his drink.
‘Is it the farm?’ she asked. ‘Are you struggling to keep up with it all? Because I can help if you need it. I spent many years in the sheep yards myself.’
And she wouldn’t hesitate to do it again. Jimmy and the girls had the farm covered, and Maggie was better off in the house keeping them fed than getting in their road. But on the odd occasion someone was sick or away she enjoyed masquerading as a farmer, feeding sheep or helping them draft. It made her feel youthful – although afterwards she felt anything but. Her hip tended to flare up and ache, along with her back.
‘No, I’m managing all right.’
‘So it’s just Toni then?’ she said bluntly.
Jimmy kept his head down, avoiding her eyes. He dragged his lip through his teeth but said nothing.
‘I don’t want to go sticking my nose where is doesn’t belong but don’t let it get you down. Whatever it is,’ said Maggie. She sipped her tea while Jimmy leant back and reached for some slice. Eventually he met her gaze.
‘Do you think this trip will change things?’ he asked. ‘Change them?’
‘It depends. I’m not sure what they’re going to find or how either of them will react. I’m not sure how I’ll react. But one thing I am sure of is that both those girls think the world of you and that will never change.’
‘You really think so?’
For a strong, reliable, happy-go-lucky man, Jimmy seemed very unsure. Matters of the heart could take down the strongest.
‘Yes, I do. Just give her time.’
He ran a hand over his face. ‘How is it that I tell you hardly anything, yet you know exactly what I’m thinking?’ He sighed. ‘Thanks, Maggie May.’
Gypsy shifted by his feet, looking rather glum.
‘Do you think they’ve found him?’ asked Jimmy.
‘To tell you the truth, I’m trying not to think about it. But the more I try, the more I end up wondering. I guess we will know in a few more days.’ Maggie felt that flutter begin in her chest again. Nervous excitement and dread. ‘Is there anything I can help you with today? I can’t cook any more, the freezer is full. But I need to do something.’
‘I understand. You want to come with me while I feed the sheep and check the troughs?’
‘I would love that.’ Maggie felt relieved. She reached down and scratched Gypsy’s head. The dog melted against her hand. ‘So, where’s Fella?’
Both Gypsy and Jimmy looked at her strangely. ‘What do you mean? Isn’t he with you?’
Maggie frowned. ‘No. I haven’t seen him since last night when I fed him and Contractor.’
‘Oh, crap. Well, I haven’t seen him since before then. Where could he be?’ Jimmy clapped his hands. ‘Gypsy, where is Fella?’ She tilted her head, ears erect.
‘I’ll go check his pen and around the back of the house. He likes the chooks, maybe he’s watching the new chickens,’ said Maggie. There was no point worrying yet, except she did. It wasn’t like Fella to just disappear, especially when Gypsy was here.
‘I’ll go to the sheds and do a quick drive-around. I’ll meet you back here in five.’ Jimmy strode to the four-wheeler, whistling as he went. ‘Fella!’ he yelled.
Maggie checked everywhere, even inside Flick’s bedroom. Nothing. She stood out on the verandah and called him again. There wasn’t even a bark.
Jimmy came back, his brow creased. ‘Buggered if I know where he’d be. It’s so unlike him.’
‘Do you think he’s hurt? Snake bite? Maybe went off chasing rabbits and got lost.’ Or worse, she almost said. Their last dog Bruce had been sprinting through the crop when he’d impaled himself on a mallee root he hadn’t seen. She hoped to God Fella was fine. ‘We need to find him, Jimmy.’ Flick would be devastated.
‘I know.’ Jimmy swallowed hard. ‘I’ll go get the ute and we’ll have a proper look around the farm.’
He walked back to the bike, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, shoulders hunched. Maggie felt the same. All thoughts of Rocco vanished as the need to find Fella became a priority. Maggie closed her eyes and prayed. Please let us find him alive.
28
AS promised, Stefano drove them to Gubbio the following day. Had it been a straight road it would have taken them fifteen minutes. Add tight bends, hills, and being stuck on 60 kilometres an hour, and time doubled. Toni sat in the back again, but she didn’t mind. She could still see plenty of the scenery. Flick and Stefano chatted away in the front. It was amazing they still found things to talk about after spending nearly all night at it.
Over breakfast Toni had quizzed Flick. All she said was that it was ‘wonderful’, but the rest Toni could read from her expression. She was walking on clouds, almost like a giggly schoolgirl as they waited to meet up with Stefano again. She didn’t miss the heated smiles they shared as they greeted each other.
Toni was delighted for her daughter. After that messy business with Chad, a little holiday romance would do her the world of good. Sure, seeing the spark between Flick and Stefano made her heart long for Jimmy, but soon she would be home. Three more sleeps.
‘So tomorrow you leave for Roma?’ asked Stefano as he parked the car in an unmarked gravel car park, a catch in his voice.
Flick just nodded sadly.
‘I wonder,’ he started. ‘I haven’t seen my sister for a long time. Would you let me drive you to Rome? We could return your car there and you would not have to drive back over the same roads to Arezzo.’ Stefano sought out Toni’s eyes in the rear-vision mirror. He knew it was her decision.
Flick was watching her too, lip caught between her teeth.
‘Are you sure that wouldn’t put you out?’ Toni asked. ‘It’s fine by me if it’s okay with you and your work.’
Both of the kids grinned with relief.
‘My mum will be happy, I can take some things she has for Martina. They miss her.’
They parked the car and headed towards the outer wall of medieval Gubbio. Terracotta tiles on stone buildings started at the bottom of the hill and rose like a Lego structure up the slope. Flick and Stefano held hands beside her and Toni knew the release they must feel at having a few more days together. But really, was that a good thing or would it just make leaving harder?
Toni was thinking how unbearable the plane ride home might be with a daughter whose heart was aching. She could relate it all back to her and Jimmy. Should she take the chance of a broken heart too?
Inside the walls they walked around the medieval terraces and along narrow, steep streets lined with small cars. They found a ceramic shop with the most beautiful hand-painted plates and ornaments.
‘Nan would love all this stuff,’ said Flick, eyeing a massive jug.
Toni picked up a serving platter. ‘Yes, she would.’ In that instant Toni wished her mother were here to experience this with them.
Walls, shelves and even the floor were covered with all sorts of ceramics. An elegant ornamental amphora with antique decoration and a beautiful hand-painted blue dragon took Toni’s eye. Flick was drooling over some wall plates with yellow peacocks on a vibrant blue patterned background.
‘I think she’d like this,’ said Toni, picking up a two-piece handmade butter dish. ‘She loves her butter soft.’ Maggie had always used a butter dish, for as long as Toni could remember. She had a simple glass one but the top had a big crack in it. Toni stared at the dish in her hand but her mind was on Maggie. Was her mum doing all right at home? Was she keeping an eye on Jimmy? She’d left them both with issues unresolved and it plagued her mind. She wasn’t sure how to fix either problem. Her mum wanted
forgiveness, which maybe Toni could find eventually. But Jimmy? He wanted something special with her, or at least that’s what she’d thought until he’d walked away. Toni just wished she knew what she wanted.
‘Mum?’ said Flick again. ‘Are you okay?’
Toni glanced up and smiled. ‘Mmm. I think we should get her this.’
They bubble-wrapped the gift to within an inch of its life and prayed it would survive the trip home. Stefano then led them to the Palazzo dei Consoli, a Gothic-style building around 60 metres high in an off-white limestone. It had a bell tower and big circular steps in a fan-shape that you could walk under. In front of the building, a massive open area paved in redbrick herringbone contrasted with the limestone.
‘This is completely full of people for La Corsa dei Ceri, the race of the Saints,’ Stefano said. ‘Lots of colour and fun.’
They followed Flick to the wall along the edge, which offered a view of Gubbio. Toni smiled at the sight and then turned to see Stefano with his arms around Flick. The two snuggling together made it all look so romantic, and Toni couldn’t help imagining being there with someone special.
In one of the squares they stopped for morning tea, which was a slice of pizza. And not just any pizza. It was made with an amazingly light base and topped with only a few ingredients.
‘We totally overload our pizzas,’ said Flick through her mouthful. She rattled off all the things she’d put on the last pizza she’d made, causing Stefano’s eyes to bulge. ‘And we do the same with our pasta. We use mince but I’ve noticed here it’s mainly just a light flavoursome sauce.’
While they were chatting Toni stopped by a tourist shop and bought a postcard. She intended on filling it out for Jimmy but then realised she’d beat it home. Plus, what would she say? ‘I’m missing you’? How would he take that? In the end she wrote one it to Uncle Charlie, posted it off, and then bought a new magnet for the fridge. She’d started collecting a few; that way every time they went to the fridge she would have reminders of their travels.
Soon it was time to head back to Montone. Stefano had to work, and Toni and Flick had to clean up so they’d be ready to leave the next day.
‘Mum, shall we do the 12-k walk this afternoon too?’ asked Flick.
‘Yeah, why not?’
When they walked Stefano to the restaurant, he went to tell his parents about the trip to Rome. Toni watched for a moment while Flick went to look at some felt hats and scarves at the shop opposite. Massimo seemed pleased that Stefano would be visiting his sister. But it was the look on Sofia’s face as she overheard the exchange and went running to Stefano that gripped Toni’s attention. A big three-way Italian conversation raged. Sofia’s hand was on Stefano’s arm and she was shaking her head. Stefano said something, and she pouted. His words had hurt. Toni wondered if Stefano even realised the depth of Sofia’s feelings towards him. Lucky Flick had missed the commotion.
An hour later they started on their walk, taking the bit of paper with the directions with them. They strolled down a narrow bitumen road lined with grapes and figs, helped themselves to a few, and talked to some horses, which Toni knew would make Flick feel homesick. They reached overgrown dense green areas before heading over a few hills until they could see Montone in the distance. A farmer in his blue tractor was ploughing his paddock right beside them. The simple plough cut two deep gashes through the earth, curling dirt over on itself.
‘Wow, see how deep they’re going?’ said Flick.
They stood over the ripped area, checking out the soil type, measuring the depth of the cut. Back home they only ever scratched the surface. It just showed how rich and fertile the soil was here.
Further on they passed some men moving sheep. Five white dogs walked along in front as the mob followed. ‘You don’t see that every day,’ said Toni.
‘You think if I paint Fella white and get him to lead the way, our sheep will follow?’
Toni laughed. ‘I can’t imagine that ever happening.’ The little lambs that passed were so adorable. The sheep didn’t even worry about them, just surged forward towards their next paddock.
They walked between crops of tall, leafy plants and had a big debate on what they could be, before agreeing they might be tobacco. One paddock definitely had sunflowers.
‘It’s so amazing, Mum,’ said Flick, pausing on their steep climb and glancing across the green landscape. Flick gave her a silly smile. ‘I can definitely see why you wanted me to travel. There’s so much to learn, new things to see.’
Toni was silently pleased. ‘Yes, there is. Farming here is different.’
‘But then again, it’s not. Did you see what that farmer was wearing? Boots and trackpants!’ Flick laughed. ‘That’s me half the time.’
‘Only because you slept in yours and couldn’t be bothered changing. You were a lazy sod when you were home from high school.’
‘Yeah, those were the days,’ said Flick as if remembering twenty years before instead of three.
Toni put her arm around Flick’s shoulders. ‘You know, darling. I think we should make this a yearly thing – you and I having some time out together. What do you say?’
Flick opened her eyes wide. ‘You mean a big trip overseas?’
‘No, not necessarily. I would love to keep doing trips overseas – maybe we could travel to America and see how they farm there,’ Toni said, getting excited. ‘But, I mean just you and I go somewhere, whether it’s to the coast or down south or even camping out in the bush someplace. I’m just really enjoying this personal time with you. I’d like to keep it going.’ Toni smiled and Flick gave her one back.
‘Yeah, I’d like that too, Mum.’
29
‘THIS place is extreme,’ said Flick as she watched the Rome traffic buzz around them like frantic flies. They had returned the car and were now waiting next to the train station at the taxi stand. People flooded out from the station. Queues of people with bags lined up waiting for a ride, others just stood around chatting. It smelt like a city: car fumes, cigarette smoke and damp cement, but you didn’t notice it that much when you were busy gazing up at the buildings – long, square-bricked terraces with rows and rows of windows, some four levels, others six levels high, and dressed with shutters. Hotel Siracusa sat on the corner of one street. If only their hotel, the Priscilla, was that close. Along the busy one-way street sat scooters and bikes, parked so close they could topple like dominoes if pushed.
‘I think we should walk, it would be quicker and cheaper,’ said Stefano.
‘Fine by us,’ said Flick. She pulled out the map of Rome their hotel was marked on. It also had illustrations of all the sights, like the Colosseum and Pantheon, so they could plan something of a route for themselves.
Stefano studied it over her shoulder. His closeness made her contented. She wanted to take his hand, but walking the crazy streets of Rome with luggage would need to be done in single file.
‘Okay, we go this way.’
And off they went. They crossed the main, cobblestoned road, the click clack of their bags along the uneven surface adding to the noise of the traffic. Flick saw a nun dressed in black with brown sandals running to cross the street, and most people around them seemed really well dressed. It looked like they were in a business area. Once safely on the other side, they dodged people on the narrow and uneven path, past parked bikes and around skip bins, and headed towards a massive building at the end of the street with a huge eagle on top of it. Near the end of Via Marsala was a tourist area, with little souvenir huts sprouting postcards or handbags and luggage.
They weaved left and right along different streets with names like Via Montebello and Via Cernaia, but in no time had found Via Calabria, the street their three-star hotel was on. There was a restaurant on the corner; the smell of coffee was alluring, and tables with white tablecloths and chairs sat outside along the pavement. All crammed together and looking like one whole structure, the buildings were six storeys high and it seemed like a seventh w
ent down below the road.
‘Did you see how many restaurants are around us? We won’t have far to go,’ said Flick as they powered past some tall trees and up the stairs to the Priscilla.
Franco, the enthusiastic manager with a lopsided smile and white jacket, checked them in, his keys jingling on his waist every time he moved. Their room nothing special but it was clean and the bathroom was surprisingly big. At least it only had a toilet and no bidet.
Stefano asked if he could leave his bag in their room. ‘My sister can’t pick me up until after her work. She will come to Priscilla at seven o’clock. Do you mind if I be your tour guide until then?’ he asked Toni.
Flick found it so charming that he always checked with her mum first. He knew this was their holiday, their time together, and he didn’t want to overstep.
‘That would be great, Stefano. Then tomorrow we’ll have more confidence to trek around Rome ourselves. Thank you.’ Toni took his bag and sat it on the double bed in their room. ‘We’d rather walk everywhere than take the subway. I’ve heard too many horror stories about bags getting stolen.’
Flick laughed at her mum, but truthfully she was a little afraid of it herself. Growing up in such wide-open spaces, the thought of cramped, overcrowded places filled her with dread.
They waited outside the room while Toni locked up. Flick had swapped her thongs for her walking shoes but kept her denim mini skirt on, along with a white strappy tank top. Stefano was wearing fitted jeans and a snug navy-blue shirt. She had to fight the urge to run her hand across his chest.
‘Righto, let’s go,’ said Toni.
Outside, Stefano reached for her hand and Flick gladly let him. Everything felt so much more alive when she could touch him and she didn’t want to waste a moment, as they would be flying home so soon. Instantly a wave of sadness hit, but she tried to bury it way down deep. She would not ruin the time they had left worrying about goodbyes.