by Susan Toscan
Agnes and Brad were married at the end of August 1945. The atomic bomb had put an end to the war in the Pacific earlier that month. As news of the devastation that had been delivered to the Japanese cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki spread throughout the world, reactions varied from elation to shock at the realisation that so many innocent people had died.
Agnes was happy on her wedding day. She did not wear a white dress this time either. Instead she wore a beautiful pale-blue dress with a pretty floral jacket, completing the outfit with a picture hat in a matching colour. Her bouquet was comprised of a bunch of flowers that Maria had picked from the garden planted by Agnes so many years ago in the home she’d shared with Michael. Patricia and Neil were the attendants at the wedding, and they seemed to enjoy the day, but Frances would not join in at all. She came at her mother’s insistence, but she made it obvious that she did not want to be there. Brad was relaxed and happy.
Elsie and Maria had decided to put aside their misgivings and make the day enjoyable for everyone, especially Agnes and Brad. They had prepared a delicious lunch, and after the brief civil ceremony, the family gathered to celebrate. The children would be staying with Elsie and Joe when Brad took Agnes on a honeymoon to Sydney later that afternoon.
Noticing that her daughter seemed to be a little pensive, Elsie took Agnes aside and put her arms around her. “Agnes, your dad and I want you and the children to be happy more than anything else. We wish you and Brad all the very best for your future.”
“Thanks, Mum. I appreciate that. I certainly want to be happy, but just at the moment, I can’t help but think of my first wedding day and how happy I was then. I know now how naïve I was, but that day, I was totally over the moon in love—and I wish that I could feel that way at the moment.”
“Oh, my darling, I sometimes think that if we’re lucky enough to have that sort of love once in our lives, then we have been blessed. Michael will always be in your heart.” Elsie looked reflectively at her daughter. “Your life should go forward from here. This is your road to follow.”
As they were clearing up the lunch things after Brad and Agnes had left, Elsie expressed her concern to Maria. “I am still worried, you know. I would never say this to Agnes, but this wedding just did not feel right.”
“I agree, Elsie. I prayed that this wedding would be as joyful as my girls’ weddings were. Still, we have to give it time. Both Agnes and Brad have had to deal with so much in the last few years.”
Agnes had not been keen to go to Sydney. She kept remembering her last trip to the city when she was trying to find out what had happened to Michael. The city held only sad memories for her. She did not say anything to Brad because she knew that he wanted to give her a romantic honeymoon and because it was important to make an effort to put all the sad memories behind her. They were also going to Sydney to collect Brad’s daughter and take her home with them to Griffith. As Brad’s parents were getting on in age, they had not made the long trip to Griffith for the wedding.
Husband and wife—and Maddy—arrived back in Griffith after a week of trying to relax in Sydney. The honeymoon had not helped the relationship the way Agnes had hoped it would. Once away from Griffith, Brad’s attitude had become more dominating and demanding; for example, he had insisted that she remove her wedding band from her right hand as he did not want to be reminded of her first marriage. She had tried to understand, thinking that his first marriage had also ended tragically and that perhaps they both needed a fresh start. She had taken the ring off and put it away in the bottom of her suitcase.
Agnes and the children moved out of Elsie and Joe’s house and into Brad’s, and life settled into a pattern that had some semblance of normality. Agnes had been living in such a void of grief and unhappiness that it was taking her a while to get used to this new routine.
Patricia, Neil and even Frances were trying very hard to be the family that their Mother wanted them to be. They all liked Maddy, she was a sweet child. However, Agnes was aware that whenever Brad was in the room, there seemed to be tension between him and her children. She had expected some hostility from Frances, and she knew that the girl’s attitude was getting on Brad’s nerves. She had tried to talk to her daughter on their return from the honeymoon, hoping that now that they were married, Frances might soften her attitude a little.
“Darling, I know how hard this new family situation is for you, but I do think that it’s for the best—for all of us. I want us all to be happy again. Please try, Frances.”
“Gran talked to me when you were away. I know you’re trying to make things good for us again, Mum, but I still remember my daddy, and I want him home with us.” Frances had tears in her big brown eyes, which were so much like her father’s that it made Agnes’s heart break.
“We can do this if we work together, darling. Please try to be more pleasant to Brad. Try to get to know him.”
Agnes was hopeful that everyone would settle down and begin to feel comfortable with each other soon. But as the months passed, she began to worry; the tension seemed to increase, not decrease, and she was at a loss for what to do. Frances was moody and uncooperative, which was out of character for her. The younger children coped better, but it was an unnatural alliance between them and their stepfather.
The intimacy between herself and Brad lacked the fire of Agnes’s relationship with Michael. She was annoyed at herself for comparing, but her first husband was the only man she had slept with before. She had felt so complete when she and Michael had made love. It had been the most natural contentment in the world. Agnes smiled when she remembered telling him that she had not realised making love could be so much fun.
It had never occurred to her that it could be different. Brad was a skilled lover but also a selfish one; he did not make her feel content, and he lacked tenderness and the ability to be considerate of her needs. She always felt as if she did not satisfy him, and this confused her. Agnes kept telling herself to relax and enjoy being loved and cherished again. She hoped that in time, the passion she had shared with Michael would become a part of this new relationship.
The hard part was that she still loved Michael, and as much as she tried to hide it from Brad, he knew it.
After only a few months, Agnes noticed that Brad’s moods were becoming increasingly more difficult. The children were more and more guarded around him, and he would snap at them over nothing. She was very tense all the time, and the strain was starting to show.
Agnes realised that Brad was a very jealous man. He got angry quickly, so she got better at pretending. Her respect for Brad diminished each time he displayed his possessiveness. It soon became apparent that he was even jealous of the children. Agnes was very worried about the way he reacted to her giving attention to them and even to his own daughter. She desperately wanted Maddy to feel like a part of the new family.
If Agnes commented on Brad’s jealous outbursts regarding the children and her family—and especially about Michael—Brad would respond with a tirade of accusations. “You know that you love your children more than you love Maddy. And I’m sick of you all acting like Michael was some sort of national hero. It’s time you all realised that that good-for-nothing you were married to before is not worth all the grief and anguish.”
These comments enraged Agnes, but rather than snap back at him and make the situation worse, she would leave the house and try to calm down. How could this have happened? Brad had been so sensitive to her grief before they were married. Now he seemed to have turned into a jealous monster intent on hurting her.
She desperately wanted to talk to her mother. She was regretting her decision to marry Brad, but she was ashamed to admit to Elsie that she had made a mistake.
Instead, Agnes tried to keep going. She decided that she had to make the best of her life for the sake of the children; she also had to be watchful in order to protect the children from any further hurt. They had a comfortable house and food on the table, but Agnes knew that it was not enough.
The children also deserved an untroubled life.
Agnes had never been one to want a lot of possessions, but having a home for her children was very important to her, and she tried to show Brad how grateful she was that he had provided one for them all. As part of this, she was careful with the money that he gave her, and this did please him at least.
Brad bought Agnes many gifts, especially after she had been upset with him; it was his way of apologising. She tried to understand how he could think that all his hurtful words and actions could be wiped away with presents. One day, she finally asked him, “Why do you say such hurtful things and then just expect me to forget it?”
His reply was evasive. “Loosen up, Agnes, you are so wound up all the time. You jump on me no matter what I say. A guy can’t win here.” Then he went off to see his mates at the club.
Brad belonged to a group of shooters. They would go out rabbit-shooting most weekends. Brad really enjoyed these outings, and it worried Agnes that he seemed to enjoy the violence of his chosen sport. He had a collection of powerful rifles, which he kept in the house.
After Brad had left the house following one of his and Agnes’s disagreements, Frances came up to her mother. “Why do you let him speak to you like that, Mum? I hate it; he’s a bully.”
“No, he’s not a bully; he’s just a bit high-handed,” Agnes responded. “I understand that he upsets you, darling, but we’re all trying to get used to one another. We have to be patient, and things will come good.”
“You don’t believe that anymore than I do, Mum. I know you’re trying, but he’s a pig. I think that he’s getting worse, not better. I love you, Mum, but he’s changed you.” Frances left the room.
Italy: Finding the way home
From mid 1944, American and French Allied forces made their way north of Florence. They quickly gained ground, penetrating the Appennine Mountains and advancing into the north of Italy. By early 1945, the Allies stationed near Venice had received word from one of the partisan scouts that there had been a successful raid on an isolated farmhouse near Treviso in which at least 10 high-ranking German officers had been killed, along with six regular soldiers. The Allied army sent some of its men to meet up with the partisan group responsible.
The soldiers were in awe of what the resistance fighters had achieved with so few men and their depleted resources. They were able to report to the partisans that their efforts had cut the lines of communication between the retreating German troops. The failure of the German officers to return to their units had caused considerable confusion. As a result, the Allies were able to get the upper hand and take control of the northern Italian countryside that had been under German control.
Alessandro and his men were now keen to find the peace that only home could bring to them. For Alessandro and some of the others in his group who were from his village, it was comforting to imagine Cavaso as it had been prior to the ravages of the war.
The memory of the green fields that stretched to the foot of the towering mountains would always take them home, no matter where they would eventually travel throughout their lives.
The Cavaso men had set off for their village as soon as they had delivered their reports to the relevant officers. The Allied soldiers escorted them most of the way back. As they approached their home from the mountain road above it, Alessandro and his men hardly recognised it. Cavaso looked sad, the surrounding farms seemed to be overgrown and neglected, and the village square was deserted. It had changed so much from the busy little village they had left behind.
The men could see smoke rising from the chimneys and people hurrying to be home before darkness fell. These men had been away for so long that now many of them felt like aliens in a strange landscape. Would they ever be able to learn how to be normal again? They were even afraid to approach the village; they had lived so long with fear and caution that those feelings were now second nature to them. They sat by the road and absorbed the scene below them.
Unlike his friends, Alessandro was not afraid anymore, just very anxious to get down to the village and see his family. He had not had any news of his brothers who had been fighting with the enemy forces, and he was worried about their safety. How his parents had survived these years was a major concern for him.
He thought about Savina again. Was she still down there, waiting to welcome him home? He had not allowed himself to think of her too often, but he knew in his heart that he wanted to see her more than anyone or anything. She would no longer be the young girl he had left behind, and he did not quite know what to expect.
The men stayed in the forest for one more night and made their way into the village at first light. Word soon reached the villagers that the fighters were home, and everyone came out to welcome them. There was joy and sadness as many families would never see their loved ones again, but somehow everyone managed to share in the joyous reunion of the men who had come home.
Savina had heard the news as she and her sisters went out to milk the cow for their breakfast. Her discarded milking bucket fell to the ground as she rushed to the village square. She had been waiting so long for this day. The war had been over for months, and she had been so afraid that Alessandro’s name would be posted on the list of missing men displayed on the church wall that she dared not even read that list anymore. But he was home, and her heart was almost bursting. She could not believe that it had been three years since she had seen him; she did not know if he would recognise her.
Savina was a woman now. The conditions of her life and the experiences that she had undergone had made her a harder person. She had certainly changed since Alessandro had left. The war had hardened most people, and she knew that he would have changed as well.
She had run from the farm up to the village square, where she could see a large group of people gathering ahead of her. She stood on the edge of the square, waiting for Alessandro to see her. Growing impatient, she called his name, and he looked up.
Alessandro’s father, brothers and sisters surrounded him. He had been told that his brother Giuseppe had been killed, and the emotion of his reunion with his family and of his loss was profound. His mother was waiting for him at home, and he was anxious to see her. Looking up at the sound of his name, Alessandro saw a beautiful, vaguely familiar blonde-haired woman on the other side of the square. He whispered her name as he was afraid that he was dreaming. Savina was there waiting for him.
Not wanting to intrude on his time with his family, Savina stayed back, but when Alessandro started to walk towards her, she knew that she could go to him. She did so slowly as these were still times of restrained public emotion between men and women and she could not act inappropriately, even though she wanted to fling herself into his arms. Alessandro was also aware of the whole village watching them, and he respectfully acknowledged her—but his eyes told her that he was feeling the same way she was.
“Savina, bella, I am so happy to see you,” Alessandro said breathlessly. He felt like he had been winded, all the air leaving his lungs. He was looking at an angel. Savina’s soft blue eyes overflowed with tears that ran down her lovely face. A cloud of thick blonde curls fell past her shoulders. She was very thin, he realised, but she was all grown up.
“Alessandro, you are home,” was all Savina could manage to say, even though she was barely able to contain her emotion at seeing him.
“Savina, can we meet later at your house? It is very public here, and I so want to put my arms around you.” Alessandro wore his familiar cheeky grin.
Despite the strength of her feelings, Savina felt like she was meeting a stranger. She was still young enough to believe in love at first sight, and that is how she felt—overwhelmed with love for this almost stranger. Alessandro was a childhood friend now returned as the man Savina would love for the rest of her life. She knew this as certainly as she knew her own name. She was not sure if it was the war and the many difficulties that she, her family and so many others had endured that made her emotions so tangible. She
had no experience like this to compare her feelings to, but she knew that she had committed her heart to this man.
Alessandro was amazed at the woman he saw. He did not want to leave her there in the village square among all the familiar faces of his childhood. She was not the young girl he had left three years ago, and he was confused by his reaction to this beautiful woman. He had been alone for so long that it was hard to put a name to the feelings that he had, but in his heart, he somehow knew that he wanted to be with her—he wanted to hold her. After all the ugliness he had experienced, her beauty and the simple goodness in her eyes made him feel at peace for the first time in a very long while.
It had been a mentally and physically exhausting day, and by the time Alessandro arrived at Savina’s father’s house, he was feeling elated and drained at the same time. He had been living in a different world, a world that was dominated by violence and tension. He was not sure how to relate to this unfamiliar but supposedly normal situation. After being warmly greeted by Antonio at the door, Alessandro saw Savina as he entered the living room, and his heart melted for the second time that day.
Her family was overjoyed to see him, and they made a great fuss of him. Alessandro was seated at the head of the small table, and then the family crowded around. They asked lots of questions about where he had been. He acknowledged their questions but let them know that he did not want to talk about the past. When he looked at Savina, he knew that he was looking at his future. He wanted to be alone with her and tell her that he wanted to spend his life with her.
He did not get a chance that evening. A meal appeared in front of Alessandro, the likes of which he had not seen since before the war. A steaming bowl of pasta was passed to him, and the aroma of herbs and tomatoes reassured him that he was truly home. There was also roasted chicken with lots of fresh salad. Alessandro understood that these people were welcoming him home the best way they knew, with love and food. Even though he was aware that there was still severe rationing, he realised that most of the food provided was home-grown. Even the chicken!