Cecilia and Ida settled down to tell each other what had happened since the bombardment on the house.
IDA. July 1944
Ida was humming excitedly, she could do this little place up and it would be her little sanctuary, until the war was over and they could all go home. The doors were closed and she was in the bathroom, leaning over the tub cleaning, when she heard a strange muffled noise, as she turned around to investigate, the wall exploded, startled, she was knocked into the bath and her head hit the side. When she came to, she didn’t know where she was, she was very disorientated and couldn’t move. She couldn’t open her eyes, they were full of grit and dust, squinting up Ida could see faint strips of light shining through, she started to cough and noticed that there was a trickle of sand falling on her from somewhere. She began to panic, was she in a coffin? Had she somehow been buried alive by mistake? But no, she thought, ‘Calm down, you can see some strips of light, you are certainly not underground. Voices - I can hear voices,’
“Help, help,” she shouted, “Help me please” there was no sound - again she shouted and tried to move, but couldn’t get her arms up or lift her legs, she was trapped somehow. She coughed again. Then she heard a man’s voice “Is somebody there? The man shouted,
“Shout again maybe we can pinpoint where you are.”
She shouted as loud as she could.
“Help, please help, I can’t seem to move.”
“Come on, she must be trapped in the bath, quickly help me to move this stuff on top of her. Slowly, slowly” he cautioned. She heard sounds and gradually the light above her became stronger and stronger and finally she saw somebody peering down at her. He grinned and said.
“Well at least you are fully clothed, how did you get in the bath?” Ida looked up dazedly and said
“I can’t remember. I really can’t remember anything.”
She was helped up out of the bath and a blanket thrown around her shoulders; her rescuer then led her outside and placed her on a stretcher, which was put into a canvas covered army truck.
She noticed there were others in the truck and they were all gazing at her silently, the man who had helped her spoke.
“Is there anybody else in the house?”
Ida dazedly said, “I don’t know- I don’t even know where I am or how I got here.”
“Okay never mind, it will all come back to you, just rest there and you will soon be attended to.” he disappeared and she heard him talking to someone. “This truck can’t hold anymore, take these people to the hospital tent in Florence, none of them are too badly injured. They can get help there.”
She had a terrible headache and closed her eyes.
After a long journey, or so it seemed to Ida, the truck at last stopped and the canvas back was pulled up, people were helping the passengers climb down, although she could walk. the attendant shook his head and told her to stay on the stretcher until they had unloaded it and then he helped her to stand up, she became a bit dizzy but it gradually passed. The attendant took her arm and helping her towards a large tent, led her over to a long table, where there were army personnel and she noticed a few nurses, she heard people being questioned kindly and when it was Ida’s turn she was asked her name and where she came from.
“My name, uhh…” she frowned and then remembered “Ida- Ida Poole, I live in Melbourne. What happened to me, where am I?”
The gentleman at the desk enlightened her,
“You are in Florence, unfortunately you were in a house that has been shelled,” He turned to a nurse standing by his side and said sympathetically. “I think she is Australian, take her to the Dr. she may have a concussion, and then she can go down to where all the Australians have been billeted, they will be sending them all home as soon as their transport arrives.” The nurse took Ida’s arm and led her away.
Ida continued with her story.
“I gradually started to remember everything and I desperately wanted to find out what happened to all of you, nobody there seemed to know anything and they were too busy, casualties were pouring in and the authorities there had to work out where to put everybody.” She sighed “It was so tragic Cecilia.” she stopped talking for a minute remembering her experience and then continued. “The Australian government are going to send a plane for all the Australians. But it will be a while before it’s safe to leave, they told us we had to be patient,” she chuckled “The man who finally rescued me, was embarrassed, in case I had been having a bath and wasn’t fully clothed,” She laughed uproariously and Cecilia joined in. The tension eased and then eventually wiping laughter tears from her eyes, she looked at Cecilia. “My darling, what happened, was it terrible?”
Cecilia looked down at her hands clasped in her lap she had to tell Ida, she just had to go through it all again. Thank God Ida was alright.
“Ida,” She caught her breath on a sob and couldn’t continue for a second then she said, “My little Bernard was killed by those wretched shells, I can’t help blaming myself, but as you have always told me, one never knows what action to take and we were doing what we thought was the safest.”
She related the tragic story to her friend and they both sat silently.
Patrick arrived and after supper the couple told Ida they had decided to marry. She looked at them quizzically, not uttering a word, following Cecilia and Patrick downstairs they introduced her to Signora Bianchi, who as usual threw up her hands in delight. She was happy that Cecilia had found her Zia (Aunt). Cecilia arranged that Ida could move into the other small room in the apartment. Which was a relief for Ida, she had wondered what she was going to do. She asked if Cecilia and Patrick would accompany her to the medical tent where she had been staying and let them know her address. They had been very kind and helped her to locate Cecilia. She had eventually gone to the hospital and spoken to Chiara who gave her Cecilia’s address – and told Ida that Bernard and the others had all perished in the bombardment.
Ida and Cecilia wanted to send a message to Agnes to let her know they were alive and well, they agreed that she must be frantic with worry and the two friends were anxious to have news from Australia, to know if everybody was alright at home. They each wrote a letter and they were told the letters would be sent to Australia as soon as it was possible. Cecilia did not tell Mama she was about to marry Patrick that news could wait for another time.
Cecilia was happier than she had been in a while as she and Ida talked about the coming marriage. The older woman hesitantly broached the subject, she was curious to know if Cecilia realized, Liam may still be alive and it would be Bigamy if she married Patrick, Cecilia chuckled.
“Ida, we have discussed this and really I don’t care, we will be married here, I will be married as Cecilia Scott and as soon as we can we are going to South Africa, to make our home there,” She continued. “The world is in such a mess, people displaced, papers destroyed, who is going to find out?” She held out her hands palms up. “Especially, if we marry here, I am sure nobody will bother.” But she shivered with apprehension as she thought about Liam, he was so vindictive. She hoped he had left South Africa when he couldn’t find her, he could make trouble for her and Patrick. Maybe the evil man was dead.
Cecilia turned to Ida. “Ida, do you want to go back to Melbourne when you get transport, or do you want to come back to South Africa with us?”
Ida answered. “You know, I think, let’s wait until the time comes and see what fate has in store for us, and of course we must hear from Agnes,” She said. “We both want to know if everybody is well first and I do want to be here for your marriage,”
She looked at Cecilia and smiled “I think he is a good man and I am sure he will make you happy.”
Cecilia nodded and said “Yes, I should never have married that- that awful man,” She smiled “But then I would never have known my Bernard, he was a special - special little boy.”
Cecilia and Patrick were married in the little chapel attached to the hospital, it was November and
cold. It had taken a while to arrange for Cecilia’s name change. But eventually it became official. Chiara was Cecilia’s bridesmaid and as it was impossible to get new clothes and outfits, everybody came in what they already had on hand. Cecilia managed to borrow a white lace short dress from Signora Bianchi, who of course was invited. The kind soul was very helpful and had offered to cater for the wedding and each guest had brought something to eat. Even the hospital staff had clubbed together and made a cake for the couple.
Al also attended, he and Patrick had taken a liking to each other and they all became firm friends.
Patrick was happy, he had loved Cecilia for years and now his dream was coming to fruition. He was married in his uniform, his blonde hair neatly trimmed, his face glowing with the love he felt for Cecilia. He sent a telegram to his mother who replied with her congratulations. She told Eloise, who also sent her blessings. They had not yet received an answer from Australia and Cecilia was anxious, she hadn’t heard from her family in six years. Why hadn’t they answered? Patrick moved in with Cecilia and they all waited for permission to return home.
A letter at last arrived for them from Agnes, she was ecstatic to hear they were all safe, but was devastated to know that her little grandchild had died. Everybody was fine, Helena had married Trevor before he left to join the forces, he was safe and due home soon. Archie and Agnes, had sold the business and they had retired at last, they were still living in the same house and all of them were very relieved to hear from Cecilia and Ida. The two women had left Australia early in 1939 and the last the family had heard was the telegram Ida sent telling them about the birth of little Bernard. The news about Italy had been bad and they all knew that Cecilia and her baby and Ida were in danger
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Italy – January 1946
C ecilia and Patrick at last received permission to leave Italy in January 1946. Cecilia was pregnant and was expecting her baby in August. She had not told anybody not even Patrick, she didn’t want the child. And to make matters worse the baby was due in August. Bernard would have been seven years old. Patrick managed to get permission for Cecilia and Ida who had decided to accompany them to South Africa, to travel on a South African Air Force plane, which was returning with mostly war correspondents and a few troops. Cecilia did not enjoy the trip as it was very bumpy and she felt air sick, but did not mention her discomfort. The plane landed at Palmietfontein Airport very early in the morning. Patrick told the two women, it would take another hour to reach his home. Cecilia was exhausted and still had not told Patrick he was to be a father.
A year before war was declared Patrick had purchased a small-holding in a little farming community. He had been doing renovations when he had to leave for overseas and he was pleased to be able to give Cecilia a good home.
When the taxi arrived, Olga rushed out to greet them all, she was relieved and ecstatic to see Patrick. Olga hadn’t heard much from Patrick, although he had managed to send a few messages occasionally to her in the news pouch which he dispatched every second day. She knew Patrick was safe and he had told her of his marriage. Cecilia asked Patrick not to tell his mother about Bernard or what had happened with Liam, she did not want to discuss it and she swore Patrick to secrecy.
As Olga rushed out of the house and grabbed Patrick in a big hug and then turned to Cecilia.
“Cecilia, darling, I knew you two were destined for each other, I am sure you are both relieved to be home,” her face sobered. “Was it too terrible?” and then not waiting for an answer her face once more brightened “To think you met up in Florence, it’s like a fairy tale.” She looked at Cecilia shrewdly and knew the girl was expecting, but she never mentioned it - they would tell her in time.
She then turned to Ida as Cecilia introduced them and beamed. “I am so pleased to meet you Ida, welcome to South Africa,” she grabbed Patrick’s arm and said, “Come on, let me show you to your rooms and then we can settle down and have a welcome home meal and you can fill me in on everything.”
Cecilia finally told Patrick she would have their child in August, and felt guilty when he was so happy and hoped it would be a boy for his sake but she didn’t feel well. She was tired and listless not eating too well and Olga noticed. She said as much to Ida.
“I suppose it has all been too much and she hasn’t recovered from the ordeal.” Ida replied. “It was a terrible time.” She caught herself from mentioning Bernard.
Cecilia received a letter from Agnes telling her more news. Trevor and Helena had settled in Melbourne where he worked and the family was relieved he had returned home safely. Archie wasn’t too well and he and Agnes had decided now that everybody was accounted for they may take a trip to South Africa.
Cecilia wrote back.
“Dear Mother, Patrick is eager to meet you, and I am looking forward to seeing you both.” She then told her Mother that they had married in Italy and that she was expecting their baby in August. Cecilia hoped her Mother would come for a visit. She was very homesick now and she realized she should have gone back to Australia instead of marrying Patrick. She thought I should not have married him, I love him, but, as a friend.
On Fifteenth of August 1946, Cecilia gave birth to Catherine, she realized it would have been her Bernard’s seventh birthday and wished with her whole body this was he. The Doctor had been called because the midwife was afraid she couldn’t cope as there were complications and when the child was born the Doctor gave the baby over to Olga while he battled to save Cecilia’s life. Cecilia took a long time to recover and not once asked to see Catherine. Patrick tried to persuade her.
“Cecilia, she is like a little doll, when you see her you won’t be able to resist her. She has your beautiful blue eyes and dark hair,” He cleared his throat and went on. “Besides,” he hesitated “You need to feed her, she needs her mother.”
Cecilia answered turning her head away and pulling the blankets over her head.
“Not now Patrick, your Mother can look after her, I don’t think I have any milk anyway. I am sure Olga can think of what to give her- give me time please.”
With a sigh Patrick walked out of the room and went to find his mother.
Catherine was a month old and although Olga battled had with her food, the baby was now thriving on the bottle and as she told Patrick, maybe it was for the best, especially as Cecilia told them she didn’t have much milk.
Agnes wrote to say her and Archie would join them in South Africa in December for Christmas. They planned to return to Australia in March some time. Cecilia and Ida were very excited and Olga said she had plenty of room, but the couple decided to stay with Agnes’ sister, Eloise. Sadly, Frank had passed away during the war years but Eloise was still staying in her little home. She had been to see Cecilia a few times and cooed over Catherine, who was growing rapidly as babies do, she couldn’t understand Cecilia’s disinterest in the baby and said as much to Patrick. He decided to mention Bernard and what had happened to him. He thought Cecilia was being silly not to talk about the boy but Eloise understood.
“Patrick,” she said, “Cecilia has been through a tremendous tragedy, what with Liam nearly murdering her and the traumatic time in Italy, losing Bernard must have driven her to the brink, I perfectly understand her attitude and I am sure she will eventually recover.” Eloise loved Cecilia and in her eyes Cecilia could do no wrong.
“I promise, I will not mention that you have told me about Bernard, I am sure in time she will tell me herself.” She patted Patrick on the arm and with that he had to be content.
Christmas 1946 was wonderful, Cecilia looked around at her Mother and Archie, yes, they both looked much older, Eloise, hadn’t changed much. Dear Aunt Eloise. Patrick was sitting next to her holding Catherine in his arms, he loved his daughter so much.
A pang of conscience hit Cecilia and she felt ashamed of herself. She decided. “Here Patrick,” she said holding out her arms “Give her to me.” Patrick was delighted and handed the baby over to her
mother. Cecilia looked down at her child and found the baby studying her with big solemn blue eyes, she smiled at Catherine who gave her a toothless grin and grabbed Cecilia’s finger
‘Why can’t I love her? She is so cute. It’s not her fault that Bernard didn’t live.’
After that Cecilia spent a little more time with her baby but she left Catherine more and more with Olga who adored her grandchild.
Cecilia did knit a few garments for Catherine and then decided to make a little pink “Pete” for her. As she was knitting the toy, she thought back to the time she had knitted the blue one for Bernard and her eyes filled with tears. God, she missed her boy. She let the knitting fall into her lap, she couldn’t go on, the memories were too painful. She thought of his dear little face with the dimples and the way he chuckled, screeching with delight when they were on the sled sliding down the bank in the snow. Patrick found her in their bedroom sobbing quietly to herself, and he took her in his arms, but she pushed him away.
“I’m alright Patrick, just sometimes the memories are too much for me,” she said cruelly. “You wouldn’t know, you never knew him.” He sighed and left the room.
New Year 1946, Agnes and Archie were due to leave for Australia at the end of March. Cecilia was dreading it, she wished she could go with them. Ida also decided to return to Australia, Cecilia tentatively asked what they thought of her returning with them and they all discussed it.
If Patrick was agreeable, maybe she should leave Catherine with Olga and stay until Helena’s baby was born. Cecilia was delighted her little sister was expecting in September, she could be away a few months and maybe her health would improve.
Mentally and physically.
Cecilia felt a prick of conscience, but she persuaded herself it was best for Catherine, she was too small to travel and the little one loved Olga. It would be cruel to take her away from all she knew. But in the end Cecilia was honest with herself; she had no love for the little girl. In fact, she had no love left for anyone even herself.
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