Sophia took a keen interest in his idea and often called by Kostas at the beach to offer suggestions about how Giuseppe should present himself and what he should say. Finally she suggested he come and visit her house on the waterfront at Balmain so she could introduce him to her neighbours.
Giuseppe rowed to Sophia’s jetty and walked up the flagstone steps to her sandstone house with its sweeping views across the harbour. Sophia came to meet him in bare feet and without her usual bright lipstick. With the breeze ruffling her hair, she looked surprisingly young.
‘Hello, Joe! Are you ready for a cold drink?’
She brought out a tray with biscuits and a jug of cordial, which she placed on an outdoor table.
‘You look hot from all that rowing. Perhaps you should change into your fish-selling uniform.’ Giuseppe looked puzzled and Sophia smiled. ‘I have a small present for you and your business.’
She disappeared indoors and quickly returned with some folded clothes. ‘Try these on.’ She held up a heavy cotton apron that had the words ‘Joe’s Fresh Fish, Straight from the Sea’, printed across it. ‘I also have this.’ She held up a crisp white shirt. ‘If you leave your uniform here each week I can launder it for you. Then you won’t look like you’ve just rowed for miles and miles. When it comes to food, women like a salesman to look clean. Hot and sweaty is for the bedroom,’ she laughed.
Giuseppe was flustered and didn’t know what to say. ‘Sophia, this is too much. You are so kind . . .’
She blew him a kiss. ‘Go and change and walk with me around the neighbourhood. I’ll introduce you to a few people I know well. Then you are on your own.’
The people to whom Sophia introduced Giuseppe seemed delighted to meet him although a couple made teasing remarks about her handsome friend, Joe the fisherman. After these initial introductions, she sent him on alone.
‘You’ll be fine by yourself,’ she reassured him. ‘Meet me back at my house when you’re finished and tell me how you went.’
He was feeling very positive when he met Sophia back at her house and took off his shirt and apron, folded them carefully and gave them to her.
‘Keep the apron, Joe, but this shirt will stay here. I will wash it for you and that way you always have to visit me,’ she said.
‘And when I do, I will give you my very best snapper fillets,’ he said.
‘Thank you, Joe. I hope you are always so confident about catching fish. Have you told Kostas of your plan?’
‘Yes. As long as it doesn’t stop me working on his boat he is okay with me fishing alone with a hand line. I won’t show him the apron, though,’ he added. ‘I am also going after lobster. One woman in a big house said she would be interested if I caught some.’
‘I knew you had a good head on your shoulders,’ she exclaimed. ‘You will do well.’
‘Thanks to you, Sophia,’ began Giuseppe, ‘I don’t know how to thank you. You, Giovanni, Signora Pagano, Kostas, so many people have been kind to me.’
She patted his arm. ‘You have a good soul, a nice boy. People like you, but try to be careful. You can’t trust everyone, you know.’
‘No, no,’ replied Giuseppe. ‘I know. And I am still learning here. Let me see if I am any good.’
*
Giuseppe spent two weeks working out his route around the harbourside suburbs of Balmain and Birchgrove and further away to Woolwich, Greenwich and Hunter’s Hill. He still worked for Kostas but he also fished for a few hours on the afternoons he had off. Slowly he learned about the harbour; where to drift, where to enter the quiet coves, where to anchor and where to fish the rocky shelves. He set several lines at a time and occasionally went over the shallow sandbars to net whiting and mullet. Sometimes he caught a fat squid that he would take back to Signora Pagano, who would slice and fry it with garlic. Australians, Kostas had already told him, didn’t eat squid.
Finally, when the mid-sized snapper were plentiful he started to make his rounds. Dressed in his clean white shirt and apron, he had no trouble selling his snapper fillets, sweet whiting and flathead. But he did have trouble selling the leatherjackets for, although they were plentiful – indeed they were often in plague proportions around his lines, people didn’t like their tough skins, even when Giuseppe explained that if the skin was stripped away, the delicate flesh was light and tasty.
Giuseppe always priced his fish competitively and it didn’t take long for the women of Balmain to start buying from the handsome young fishmonger who obligingly filleted and cleaned the fish the way they liked.
*
Sitting beneath the pergola at Sophia’s after he had completed his rounds, Giuseppe raised his glass of wine.
‘Thank you, Sophia, for all your help. You have been so kind.’
‘Joe, you work hard. You deserve to do well.’ She leaned over and smoothed his hair.
The gentle caress suddenly made Giuseppe feel lightheaded. He closed his eyes and touched Sophia’s hand. Gently she pulled his head towards her and kissed him lightly on the lips. The blood rushed to Giuseppe’s head and, what with the wine, the perfume of the flowers and Sophia’s soft presence, he returned her kiss with feeling. Then, gathering his courage, he wrapped his arms around Sophia and drew her close. But it was Sophia who took control and, still holding each other, she led him inside to her cool white bedroom.
At first Giuseppe was shy, but he couldn’t contain the passion Sophia had aroused in him. She gently guided him, smiling at his eagerness, until she could resist no longer, and, moaning softly, allowed Giuseppe to discover for the first time the pleasures of a woman’s body.
Later, as they lay together naked, Giuseppe felt truly a man. His shyness had melted and he felt free to touch and explore Sophia’s shapely body and kiss her creamy smooth skin. The knowledge that he could give pleasure and make a woman yearn for him gave him a heady sensation.
But soon enough Sophia sat up and nudged him from the bed.
‘It is time you returned home. You will be all right, rowing home this late?’
Giuseppe lifted his arms. ‘I am full of strength! And now the moon is up. I will row home and sing love songs at the top of my voice!’
‘No, you will not. What will the neighbours think?’ she admonished him with a smile. ‘Go quietly. There is no need to let the world know you have been here so late. Believe me, it is best,’ she said firmly.
‘Yes, Sophia,’ he said meekly. ‘Can I come again?’
She smiled and tilted her head coquettishly. ‘Maybe.’
‘I have left my best snapper fillets for you in the kitchen. I hope you will enjoy them.’
*
On his days off from working with Kostas, Giuseppe would bring his finest fish for Sophia and she would take him to her bed where they would make love.
When he returned to the boarding house one evening, Antonio asked him where he had been. Giuseppe told him about Sophia, in part to let his friend know that he had moved on after his experiences with Bridie.
‘I hope you know what you are doing,’ said Antonio. ‘She’s not married, is she?’
‘No, of course not.’
‘And she lives in a big house. How does she manage to afford such a place?’ Antonio asked. ‘How old is she?’
Giuseppe was uncomfortable with such direct questions from his friend. ‘She looks and seems young. Maybe a little older than me,’ he added.
‘I’ve seen Sophia. An attractive woman like her is bound to have rich men friends. Men who would not like you, Joe,’ said Antonio. ‘You could get into trouble if one of her boyfriends finds out about you. Maybe you should stop seeing her, but you won’t, will you. Just be careful, okay, Joe?’
*
But the first threats to Giuseppe came from a very different direction. One morning, before Kostas and the crew started out for the day, the Greek pulled Giuseppe aside.
‘I have had a visit from my friend Con. He has sold fish in Balmain for a long time and he knows how you are going around, knocking on doors, and
selling your fish in his territory. He told me to tell you to get out of his area.’
‘What did you say?’ asked Giuseppe. ‘I think that if women want to buy fish from me, that is their decision, not his.’
‘I told him I would speak to you. I think that maybe you should listen to this advice. Con has some friends who could make things dangerous for you if you continue to enter his territory. I told him that you will stop selling fish in Balmain. I think it’s for the best, Joe,’ Kostas said.
Giuseppe realised that the Greek was giving him a gentle warning, but he wondered how he would now be able to make money to buy the skiff.
*
Although he no longer sold fish in Balmain, Giuseppe continued to visit Sophia and make love to her. One evening as they lay in bed, Giuseppe asked her why they couldn’t do something else as well.
‘Why can’t we go out somewhere, just to walk or to sit by the ocean?’ he asked.
She ruffled his hair. ‘Joe, don’t you like our time together? Why should we go out?’
‘I thought I would save my money to take you to dinner.’
‘Don’t waste your money on me. I like staying here.’
‘You don’t want people to see you with me,’ he blurted. ‘You are ashamed of this poor Italian boy!’
‘Don’t be silly.’ She curled herself around him on the bed. ‘I just want to keep you all to myself.’
She pulled his head towards her and started kissing him passionately, as if to prove her point. But suddenly she jerked away from him and jumped off the bed. ‘Listen. There’s a car outside. Didn’t you hear its door slam? Quickly, take your clothes, you must go.’
‘Can’t you send them away?’ asked Giuseppe.
‘No, no. Quickly. Go out the back way and get into your boat. But be very quiet. Wait a while before you start rowing.’ She pulled on a silk kimono and pushed the naked Giuseppe through the doors and out onto the terrace, throwing his clothes after him. He heard muffled voices coming from the hallway, so he hurried through the garden, pulling up his pants as he went, and went down the stone steps to his boat. He was about to get into it when he discovered he had left his shoes behind. He didn’t want to leave them behind as they were his only pair, so he decided to wait till the visitors drove away.
It could not have been more than half an hour before he heard the car leave, so Giuseppe tiptoed back up to the house. The lights were out so he called Sophia’s name softly. She didn’t answer and Giuseppe realised that she must have gone with whoever it was who had come in the car.
He checked the doors to try to get in to retrieve his shoes but they were all locked. A slight noise made him spin around and, in the light from the rising moon, he saw Sophia’s beloved fat cat eating its dinner. He was about to leave when he saw what was in the cat’s dish. It was eating snapper fillet.
Angrily he pushed the cat away and snatched up the last remaining piece.
‘She feeds the cat the fine fish I bring for her!’ he shouted. In a flash he knew that Sophia had never eaten any of his fish. She had fed it to her spoiled cat.
*
Two days later, as he was selling Kostas’s fish on Bondi Beach, Sophia turned up and walked over to Giuseppe.
‘Joe, I’m sorry about the other night. You left these behind.’ She held out a brown paper bag with his shoes inside. ‘When one of my friends saw them, they caused me some trouble. My fault of course, but my friend didn’t like the idea that I was seeing someone else. It would be safest if you didn’t come around for a while.’
‘Is he your boyfriend?’ asked Giuseppe.
‘Just one of my friends, but they all like to think they own me. They don’t, but if they find out who you are, they will cause you trouble. They are dangerous men.’
‘If they are dangerous, why are they your friends? I don’t understand.’ Then in a rush of hurt feelings he demanded, ‘How could you give my fish to your cat?’
‘Poor Joe, I don’t really like fish and I didn’t want to waste it after all the trouble you took to bring it to me.’
‘Those men. I could protect you,’ said Giuseppe.
‘No, you couldn’t. They are ruthless. I am sorry that I put you in danger, but the best thing I can do for you right now is to tell you to stay away from me. Maybe get away from Sydney for a while. It’s a pity that this is the way it turned out, Giuseppe, but there it is.’ With a small smile, Sophia put a finger to her lips and then placed it on Giuseppe’s. Then she turned and walked up the beach.
As he watched her walk away, Kostas came over and gave him a shrewd look. ‘You had a tiff with your lady friend?’
‘She isn’t my friend anymore. I cannot see her again. Her boyfriends don’t like me.’
Kostas shrugged. ‘Women like that have rich ugly boyfriends. Keep away.’
‘She told me to leave Sydney because it could be dangerous for me, but her friends don’t know me.’
‘They have ways of finding out. I bet the neighbours have seen you and your boat hanging about.’
Giuseppe didn’t like the sound of this at all, so he decided that he would find Giovanni and ask him for advice.
*
Giovanni listened to Giuseppe’s story about Sophia and nodded.
‘I saw she had picked you out on the boat that day, like a ripe peach.’ He smiled. ‘I can’t blame you for liking her, she is a vibrant woman, but she moves in a circle that’s not for you, Joe. Your Greek friend is right. Sophia is a lovely lady, but she mixes with some bad people. If they find out who you are, you could be in trouble. I think you should leave Sydney for a while. In a few months you can return, I’m sure.’
‘But where can I go? I only know about fishing.’
‘And you are a good, hardworking fisherman. Remember the Italian fishing community I told you about just a little south of here, in Wollongong? They are friends of mine and they will help you.’
‘That sounds like a good idea. Maybe after I have stayed there for a while, I can go to Queensland and cut sugar cane to make money.’
‘When you get to Wollongong, find the Riviera family, they will look after you. I’ll send them a message so they will be expecting you.’
‘You know people everywhere,’ said Giuseppe. ‘How can I thank you for the loan of your boat? I am frustrated I can’t keep fishing and selling door to door.’
‘We Italians have to stick together. Get started in Wollongong and then come back here or go to Queensland, but make sure you have money in your pocket.’
‘Why am I always doing the wrong thing? Now I am running away. Or being chased away,’ said Giuseppe, sighing.
‘You are in a new country, with different customs, different ways of doing things. But you’ll find this is a good country with opportunities if you work hard and keep your nose clean – as they say here.’
Giuseppe was sad about leaving Signora Pagano’s boarding house and the friends he’d made there. But when he told everyone at dinner that night what had happened at Sophia’s place as well as the threats he’d received from Con, and raised the idea of going south, they all agreed that it was a wise idea.
‘You take the train, Joe,’ said Signora Pagano. ‘Then look up these Italian fishing people. If they are friends of Signor Bruscioli, they will give you a job, without a doubt.’
The next morning, Antonio and Luciano went with Giuseppe to Central Railway Station with its grand sandstone entrance and large clock tower. They found the right platform and waited with Giuseppe until it was time to board the train.
The three friends embraced.
‘Good luck, Tony, my friend. I hope Queensland works out for you and you don’t have to cut cane for too long!’
‘When the season is over I will come to the ocean and stay with you and we can fish together!’ said Antonio, laughing.
‘Good luck, Joe,’ said Luciano. ‘And look out for the ladies!’
On board Giuseppe stowed his suitcase and pushed open the window to wave to his two
friends as the steam engine gathered speed and rolled smoothly away from the station.
The trip passed quickly. Giuseppe enjoyed the spectacular scenery as the train track twisted and turned down steep grades and through tunnels before arriving in Wollongong. The town was situated on a sheltered section of coast beside the blue Pacific Ocean in the shadow of the huge sandstone Illawarra escarpment, which towered above it.
Following Giovanni’s instructions, Giuseppe found the house he was looking for at Brighton Beach, right on the harbour. He could hear voices out the back, so he walked around the side of the large house and found a group of Italians sitting in the back garden. Shyly he asked the men which of them was Franco Riviera.
A weather-beaten Italian dressed in old trousers and shirt but with an assured manner came over to greet him.
‘So you are Joe? My good friend Giovanni has sent you to stay and work here?’
‘Yes, Signor Riviera.’
‘Call me Franco. Giovanni tells me that you are a good fisherman. Tell me about yourself.’
Giuseppe enthusiastically nodded and told him about fishing with his father for the tonno and working with Kostas the Greek in Sydney; he told him how Giovanni had loaned him a skiff to fish for himself. ‘But selling my fish door to door was not liked by the local Greek fisherman and the fish shop owners, so I had to stop.’ He did not mention Sophia.
Franco chuckled. ‘Yes, I can believe that. People have to protect their interests, though the housewives would have welcomed you on their doorstep. You like to fish? You like to be on the water? Or is it just a means to make a living?’ Although he asked the question casually, Franco gave Giuseppe an unflinching look, waiting for his answer.
Giuseppe rushed in. ‘How could I look on fishing any other way? Being at sea, understanding the boat, the hunt for the fish and the contest between the fish and me – that is what makes me feel alive!’
Franco nodded. ‘You come from a fishing family, unlike me. I come from Piedmont and I taught myself to fish only when I came to Australia. So you have knowledge passed to you from your father, your grandfather, yes?’
‘Yes, yes. Of course. My brothers, they fish too. But for me . . . it is different.’ He paused, not sure how to explain himself. ‘I sometimes feel I can think like a fish. I know their habits and where they go and when they eat and what they like to eat. And then when I find a fish, it becomes a small war, a battle between the creature in the sea and me. And sometimes if the fish has put up a good fight, a clever fight, then I let him go to fight another day, even though my father says this is bad for business.’ Giuseppe shrugged. ‘I like to use poles and lines, rather than nets, and take on a fish, one on one, but I will do as you tell me.’
The Winter Sea Page 9