Thank God, the water was still running, she saw an old empty bottle, where the children had been playing the day before and rinsing it out she filled it with water.
“Come on, come on, quickly.” she called the boys, who had been standing silently gazing at her. Their little dirty faces streaked with dried tears and mud. At first, she found it difficult with the extra weight on the cross bar, but gaining confidence she managed to peddle down the driveway and reaching the main road, she turned right, if she could get into Tavarnelle, she may be able to get help from somebody. Peddling along as fast as she could she heard the grind of big trucks in the distance, they were coming her way. Jumping off, fearfully, she told the two boys to duck down and threw the bicycle into the long grass and putting her arms around the children she tried to burrow into the ground, almost immediately she heard the vehicles rumbling past. Francesca was too afraid to look.
Giorgio pushed his body up, she hadn’t realized how tight she had been holding the boys. She cautiously lifted her head to peer through the long grass, looking both ways, making sure there were no more vehicles following. She didn’t care which army was passing, she was afraid of all of them. Picking up the bike and putting the little ones back on, she continued, she was so tired, she had to get to town before nightfall, the children had to eat and she must find somewhere to sleep. Passing the shop where Cecilia had worked Francesca noticed it had also been shelled, was she and the boys the only ones alive? On reaching the outskirts of town, her heart sank, the buildings were in ruins, people were wandering around dazedly and most didn’t seem to know what to do. She noticed a few people entering a building, which seemed to have escaped most of the damage. Putting her bike down, she picked Bernard up and holding Giorgio’s hand she followed these stragglers, the Municipal buildings had been destroyed but the building they were entering had almost half a roof intact. Wearily Francesca joined the people straggling inside, some had blankets and some had managed to find mattresses.
As Francesca was looking around she heard her name called and jumped in fright. It was a friend. Francesca breathed a sigh of relief, she walked over to her friend, the boys following, she smiled. “Caio Rina,” she saw with relief that Rina had her whole family, her husband and three children, with her. They had all survived.
“Oh Rina, you are all alright, Thank God.” She started crying. She told them Piero, Cecilia and Piero’s Aunt had perished in the bombardment and her home had been destroyed. She didn’t know where to go. What to do. Rina patted Francesca on the shoulder sympathetically.
“Alright, let’s get something to eat and get a good night’s sleep if we can Amica (friend).” Turning around and indicating her husband she said, “We are so sorry about Piero and your cousin and aunt.” She looked at her friend her weary eyes were bright with unshed tears, dark circles shadowed her face. Francesca thought.
I must look like that too. This is the end of the world.
“We can all think about this in the morning, when we are not so tired.” Said Rina wearily. Rina’s husband Roberto had a bag on his shoulder, he pulled out some apples, not enough to go around, but he offered three to Francesca. She gave one to the little ones, they would have to share, she shook her head when he offered her another apple.
“Take one Francesca,” Roberto said kindly pushing the apple towards her “Rina and I can each have one and the three children can also share, we can see what to do in the morning for more food.”
With Rina’s help, Francesca managed to make a comfortable bed for her and her two little bedraggled children, Rina and her family sleeping close around her
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Italy - 1944
S he slowly came out of a deep exhausted sleep to hear Rina’s voice.
“Francesca, wake up I have something to tell you,”
She was instantly awake. Was it news about Piero or Cecilia and Ida?
But Rina said. “Some soldiers are here, they say they are from a place called New Zealand and they are helping us,” she stated, “They are setting up kitchens and we have heard we will soon have some warm food,” She smiled at her friend. “A Doctor has arrived to attend to the injured maybe you can ask them what to do,” Rina continued “You have quite a bad cut on your hand and Giorgio needs the cut on his forehead seen to.”
Francesca was adamant
“No, NO. Rina,” she said with eyes wide open with fright. “They will take Bernard away from me, I am not going to let that happen, Cecilia trusted me to look after him and he is my responsibility,”
She went on hysterically “You know we can’t trust any side now.”
Rina shrugged “Well, what are you going to do then?”
Francesca relented “OK, I have to get the children something to eat and have Giorgios’s forehead cleaned up, my hand too, but I am not going to tell anybody anything,” she looked at her friend grabbing her arm “you must not say anything, please.”
Rina and Francesca with the others all moved over to the queue for food and having obtained three bowls of porridge for herself and the boys, Francesca sat on a small wall while they all ate their meal, she was pondering what to do. When she went to hand the bowls back she asked if somebody could have a look at the cut on Giorgio’s forehead and clean and bandage the wound on her hand, which was accomplished. She then went back and sat down on the wall to plan what to do next.
She looked around and then stiffened. That man sitting on his own, she knew him, she had seen him before in Tavarnelle when the family were at the Mercato on Thursdays a few times, and he had spoken to Piero and nodded his head at her and Cecilia. She didn’t know what he did there, he wasn’t there every week. She knew he came from a remote village not too far from Tavernelle, maybe if she asked he would be willing to give her a lift. Sidling up to him she said, “Buongiorno Signore,” he looked at her and nodded not saying a word. “Are you leaving for home this morning?” she asked tentatively
He nodded again
“I need a lift - can you help me?”
He turned to her and said “Sorry, I came by car a few days ago, my car was completely destroyed in the bombing, anyway there will be no petrol,” he continued. “Where are you going?” he asked gruffly. He was a painfully shy man.
She smiled and said, “I do not know, I must find my way to my husband’s family, my house was destroyed yesterday and my husband perished, I just escaped with my two boys.”
He then said surprisingly. “Piero Raimondi, right?” she nodded, tears once again gathering in her eyes.
“You knew him? Francesca asked
“Si I have seen you all. I have known Piero for quite a long time, we attended school together. I am sorry I cannot help you, I don’t know how I am going to get home myself.” He was silent for a while and then he said. “I am so sorry Signora, if I could help you I would, why don’t you stay here?” He hesitated “the soldiers seem to be sorting everything out.”
“No, umm- Piero had family; I can’t remember where they are umm... I may remember later, I know it was quite near the sea.” She sighed. “My mind isn’t working too well now after this bombing and the death of Piero. The people staying with us also lost their lives.” She hung her head, the tears once again threatening to fall. She said. “I will have to find my husband’s family. I have no money or papers. Maybe the family will be able to do something for me.” She did not want to reveal that she was afraid of the soldiers and why. She smiled and said. “Thank you, Signore, I will think of something, maybe I will have to ask the soldiers here after all, they may have a solution.” With a sigh, she stood up to leave, she didn’t notice he was lifting his hand hesitantly to delay her, and then he let it drop to his side. He could have kicked himself, but he couldn’t think of something or someone who could give her a lift to her family, besides which she couldn’t even remember the area.
He thought Why was I not more helpful towards her? She needed help, she had just lost her husband and her home, and she must be devas
tated. He was a bumbling fool. Francesca turned away with a heavy heart. Not noticing his movements.
What to do? What was she going to do? She found Rina and her family and for the rest of the afternoon they watched the children playing in the piazza.
Francesca kept on glancing at the official tent where the soldiers had set up headquarters. Getting up determinedly she asked Rina to watch the two boys for her. Walking over to the tent her knees trembling, she found she had to wait in a queue, there were so many people asking for a lift to their relatives or if they had been visiting wanting to get home to find out the damage if any and to make sure their families were safe. At last it was her turn. Her English was very rusty and she had to talk slowly, thank goodness there was an interpreter. She hesitantly told them that her home had been destroyed and her husband was dead and she had family in another part of Tuscany, if she could get to Siena she may find her way to the family.
The soldier said something in English and the interpreter turned to Francesca.
“Siena has also been bombed, very little of the town is left, is there nowhere else you can think of?”
She didn’t have anywhere to go, and she had to get away without anybody asking about Bernard, she was so sure if they knew he wasn’t her child he would be taken away from her. Francesca felt that she could not let Cecilia down, she would have wanted Bernard to stay with somebody he knew. She told the interpreter she would come back and went back to sit with Rina.
“Well?” Asked Rina
“No, I didn’t get any help from them.” replied Francesca. She put her face in her hands, pulling them down her cheeks in frustration. Rina moved nearer and put her arms around her, kissing Francesca on the cheek she said.
“I would love it if you came to stay with us, but it is a very small house and even smaller now that we have hardly any roof and no bedrooms,” She paused and spoke again. “Of course, if we must, we will make do and maybe find something else later.”
Francesca shook her head.
“You have done enough Rina. You have to get your life straight; you don’t need three more mouths to feed.” She kissed Rina on both cheeks and said. “Now, let’s gather the children and get them fed and settled for the night, tomorrow is going to be a good day.”
--------------------------------
Annie looked around at everybody, they were staring at her enraptured.
Denise gasped “My God, Annie. My God,” was all she could say. “Is that all you know? Is there more about Francesca and the children and what happened to Cecilia? Little Bernard was alive all the time.”
Vincenzo said slowly. “Annie, you mentioned that Piero’s family was somewhere near the sea, that may have been in The Maremma, it’s on the coast, a very beautiful place, but it’s quite a big area,” he looked at Annie “Is there more you can tell us?” “Yes, yes,” she replied. “A lot more, I can’t believe what Cecilia revealed to me in that short time. It was like a movie, reeling through my head, a tragic story and I just don’t know why Cecilia never ever told anybody.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Italy - 1944
C ecilia regained consciousness and looking around she became very confused. She couldn’t remember what had happened.
Then realized she was in a hospital, the smell of the disinfectant and the squeak of shoes on a polished floor. A soft warm hand touched her forehead and somebody spoke in Italian.
Cecilia shook her head and whispered “water please.”
“Oh, you are English?” Cecilia’s head was lifted and tilted, cool, cool water flowed down her throat. Her head swirled and she once again lost consciousness.
It was quite a few days later that Cecilia was finally well enough to sit up and take notice of her surroundings, she learned that Tavarnelle had been shelled and that she had been found in the house with Piero, who was still fighting for his life, there was no news of Francesca and the two little boys. Cecilia frowned there was something else she needed to know, she couldn’t remember. Feeling a wave of despair and guilt sweep over her, tears pooled in her eyes, this was all her fault, she should never have come to Italy, to have her child. She should have gone to South Africa or better still stayed in Australia and faced up to Liam and his mad threats,
“Oh, please God, let my baby be alive, please.” she prayed.
The doctor who was attending her told Cecilia that she had two broken ribs a fractured arm and her left leg had been badly squashed. She also may have internal injuries from the weight which had crushed her and Piero. As well as these other injuries, she had concussion and various minor bruises and lacerations.
“Doctor, the man who was pulled out with me, can you tell if he will survive?”
Cecilia was looking at the Doctor and she noticed his hesitation before he answered.
“He is alive, but barely, I don’t hold out much hope for him, we are doing what we can,” He looked at her sympathetically. “You must rest now, you are still also very ill, you may have internal injuries.”
A week or two later she was out of danger but still very weak. She had been told that Piero was still in a coma and not expected to come out of it. There were nuns at the hospital, and Cecilia realized it was a Catholic establishment, when she asked the Doctor if she could visit Piero, he said that would be alright and sent a young nun to help Cecilia into a wheelchair. When she was wheeled into the ward, which was a very large room, Piero had screens around his bed. Despair was in her heart and hot tears of shame slid down her wan pale cheeks, she took Piero’s hand in hers and kissed it.
“Thank you so much my dear friend for helping me.” she whispered. Blinded by tears she dropped her head into her hands. Her heart ached with the loss of her darling little boy. She wished for death herself. But there was still something worrying her, something she had to know and she said as much to the Doctor when he visited her again to check on her progress.
He smiled and said.
“You have concussion, you will start remembering things in time, don’t force it, it will all come back to you.”
Francesca and little Giorgio as well as her baby may have died, their bodies had not been found. And here was Piero, his life hanging by a thread. She had been living with these people for five years, they were her family.
Eventually Cecilia could sit in the wheelchair, longer periods each day, she would sit in the conservatory, just remembering past events, she heard that the war was still raging, but Italy had changed sides and most of the country was now on the side of the allies. To annihilate the Germans, the allies had attacked the numerous small towns, although the Germans had already pulled their forces out of most of Tuscany and the poor innocent civilians had caught the worst of the attack. She was sitting in the conservatory amongst all the plants, it was a beautiful room enclosed in glass and the sounds of the hospital and general noise outside were all muted. The plants around her were soothing, but she just couldn’t take an interest in anything. Her face was ashen with grief. Memories of her child kept flickering through her mind. Some other memory was also lingering on the fringes. Somebody came into the room. Cecilia didn’t bother to look around, she heard what she thought was a familiar voice.
“Ma’am? Hello.” Looking up she saw a large man in uniform, she was sure she had never seen him before. “Ma’am” he once again said “Do you remember me? I was the one who pulled you out of the ruins of your home.”
“Oh yes,” Cecilia whispered, “You are from New Zealand?” he smiled.
“Yes, I told you that when we were carrying you to the ambulance, I came to find out how you were doing, and was informed you were out here.” Looking around he grabbed a nearby chair and pulled it towards where she was sitting. “How are you doing?” he asked, straddling the chair.
“Cecilia,” she said, “Call me Cecilia” she smiled. “I thought I was home in Melbourne, I thought it was an Australian accent. Thank you so much for rescuing me,”
Cecilia studied him for a moment and then
asked. “What are New Zealanders doing in such a small remote place like Tavarnelle?”
“We were sent in to clean up the mess that allied troops had caused,” He looked guilty, as if he was personally responsible for the bombardment of Tuscany. “How long have you been living in Tavarnelle Cecilia?” He went on to say. “My name is Alika; by the way, call me Al, my friends all do.”
“Alika, “she said hesitantly “Nice name.”
“Yes, it actually means Defender of Mankind.” He answered.
She smiled her lovely smile “The name suits you Alika, I am sorry to tell you that the gentleman who was rescued with me is not expected to survive his injuries.” Al looked down studying his nails with a sad, solemn expression
“Yes, I have been told. Sorry we didn’t get to you sooner, but he was badly injured. He did save your life, you know.”
Cecilia spoke answering his question. “I have lived in Tavarnelle now for five years; my little boy was born in that house where you found poor Piero and me.” Her voice sank to a tearful whisper.
Al touched Cecilia on the arm and said, “Sorry I have to go now.” He smiled and stood up.
Cecilia grabbed his hand and said.
“Thank you so much for coming, it has helped me a lot today, I have been feeling very sorry for myself.” He squeezed her hand and then turned to go saying,
“I promise to come back and visit, goodbye for now.”
Cecilia watched him go and tears sprang into her eyes, why on earth did she dissolve into tears at the drop of a hat? Al’s visit had made her realize that she was not the only victim to have lost loved ones. She wrinkled her brow, there was something she had to remember, and it had been with her for days now and was hovering on the edge of her conscience, like an elusive dream. A nun came into the conservatory and spoke to Cecilia kindly
Cecilia's Secret Page 15