The Winter Sea (29 page)

‘They do such wonderful work, Joe. On the surface Whitby Point looks so pretty and shows a serene face to the world, but when you go to a Red Cross meeting you realise just how much work is needed to keep food on the table of some of the families around here. I thought that poverty existed mainly in the city, but that’s not true. It’s bad down here, too.’

‘Yes, Whitby Point is not immune to what is happening in the rest of the country,’ said Joe. ‘But it is good that you want to help.’

‘In fact, Mrs Ambrose said that if I really wanted to do more, I should also join the Country Women’s Association. They also do a lot of work to relieve the plight of poor country women. Joe, I can see that there is much that should be done, and I want to help. Mrs Ambrose said that they could use all the help they can get, so I told her that I’d join.’ Bridie’s face lit up as she went on. ‘It is so good to be made to feel useful.’

Joe smiled to himself. It was wonderful to see Bridie enthusiastic and interested in what was happening in Whitby Point. She just needs a little more time and she’ll
come around to the idea of marriage, I’m sure, he thought.

*

On a Saturday afternoon a month later, Joe and Bridie decided to take the boys down to the beach. It was low tide so they could collect pipis. Joe loved the taste of the sweet little shellfish hidden in the sand. They had been very successful in their pipi hunt and Joe carried a bucket of them as he strolled slowly with Bridie towards the headland while the boys raced ahead to explore the rock pools.

Suddenly there was a lot of shouting and one of the boys let out a scream.

Joe dropped the bucket of pipis and both he and Bridie ran towards the rocks.

At first all Joe could see were Pietro and Carlo standing on the rocks. Pietro was shouting and Carlo seemed to be crying. Then, to his horror, he saw that Patrick was floundering in a rock pool that had a fast-running channel heading towards the ocean and that Ricardo was trying to swim over to the little boy. Both of them were being swept towards the open sea.

Joe clambered over the rocks and jumped into the water where the channel met the ocean just as Patrick was swept towards him. At the same moment a wave broke, pushing them both back onto the rocks. Ricardo, who had managed to get himself out of the pool when he saw his father jump in, grasped Patrick’s hand and pulled him while Joe pushed him out onto the rock ledge. Then Joe heaved himself out of the pool and lay exhausted on the ledge beside him. All of them had grazed and bleeding arms and legs.

‘Are you okay?’ Joe asked Ricardo.

‘Yes, Pap
à
, I’m fine.’

Joe looked at his son with pride. ‘That was a very brave thing you did.’

‘I don’t think Patrick can swim,’ Ricardo added in a matter-of-fact way. ‘Might be an idea if we teach him.’

Patrick said nothing. He clung on to Joe, burying his head in Joe’s shoulder. Then, just as Bridie reached them, he looked up at Joe and said, ‘I love you. You saved me.’

Joe just smiled, but he was touched by Patrick’s words.

Bridie wrapped her arms around her son. ‘Why on earth did you jump in that rock pool, Patrick? You could have drowned.’

‘Where’s Carlo?’ asked Joe, alarmed, suddenly aware that his youngest child was no longer on the rocks with them.

‘He’s over there, Pap
à
,’ said Pietro.

Carlo had shrunk back towards the cliff face away from the surging water and was watching them.

‘Poor boy,’ said Bridie. ‘He must have got a terrible fright.’

‘I think that Carlo did something to Patrick,’ said Ricardo. ‘That’s why Patrick jumped into the water.’

Joe saw that Patrick’s hand was tightly grasping a small object.

‘What’ve you got?’ he asked Patrick. ‘What is it?’

Patrick opened his hand to show Joe his wooden elephant. ‘Carlo threw it in the water,’ he said.

Leaving the other boys with Bridie, Joe marched over to Carlo.

‘That was a really, really stupid thing to do, Carlo,’ he shouted at his son. ‘Why did you do it?’ He gave him a light clip across the ear. ‘You could have got us all killed.’

‘He’s a baby!’ Carlo shouted back at his father. ‘That’s a dumb toy.’

‘You took Patrick’s favourite toy. You know it is very, very precious to him.’

Grudgingly Carlo nodded.

‘That little elephant was all that Patrick ever owned in his life before he came to Whitby Point. And I happen to know that it belonged to his mother and it’s very special, but you took it away. You deliberately wanted to hurt Patrick. Why, Carlo? What has he ever done to you?’

Carlo glared in fury at his father. ‘You like him better than me, don’t you!’ he shouted.

‘Son,’ said Joe, ‘that’s not true. I love you just the same as I always have. Now I want you to come over and say you’re sorry.’

Meekly Carlo went over to Patrick and reluctantly apologised for throwing the elephant into the water and frightening everyone and causing such trouble.

Sighing, Joe ruffled his hair. ‘That’s a good boy,’ he said.

On the walk back from the beach the boys were subdued. Bridie and Joe walked a few paces behind them as they spoke quietly about what had happened.

‘Bridie,’ said Joe. ‘I can’t apologise enough for what Carlo did.’

‘Joe, it wasn’t your fault and I thought you handled things well. Both you and Ricardo were very brave and in the end no one got hurt. But it made me think. If my son can tell you that he loves you, then I can too. If that offer of marriage is still open, I’d like to take you up on it.’

Joe couldn’t speak. He took Bridie’s hand and squeezed it and held it tightly all the way home.

*

The wedding was held in the little church of St Mary’s Star of the Sea. It was a small gathering by Italian standards. The boys and Emilia, who had made a small festive gesture by adding a lace collar to her black dress, sat primly in the front pew. The boys wore formal white button-down shirts and matching knickerbocker pants. Joe wore a dark suit with a flower in his buttonhole and had insisted that Bridie buy an outfit from Sydney.

She had chosen a beige silk three-quarter-length dress cut on the bias and trimmed with a satin bow and draped tulle that hugged her trim figure. A tiny matching hat with a soft feather trim nestled into her auburn hair, and cream netting covered her shining, joyful eyes. She carried a simple bouquet of white roses as she walked down the aisle, escorted by her proud son.

Joe thought she looked like a Hollywood movie star and he couldn’t keep his eyes off her or stop smiling. He could hardly believe that after all these years and after everything that had happened to both of them, Bridie was at long last going to be his.

Franco seemed genuinely pleased that Joe had found such happiness. At first Bridie had felt uncomfortable meeting Franco as she knew she was replacing his late daughter. But Franco soon put her at ease, telling her that Joe was indeed a lucky man to have found such a beautiful wife.

‘It’s not right for a man and those young boys to be on their own without a woman’s influence.’ He glanced across at Joe’s mother. ‘Emilia is a good woman, but old-fashioned and set in our Italian ways. I’m sure my daughter would be pleased to know that her sons will have someone with more modern ideas in their lives, so to speak.’

Franco’s son Silvio and his wife were also pleased for Joe. Several friends from Wollongong and Whitby Point as well as Joe’s fishing crews made up the rest of the group at the church.

There was no time for a honeymoon but, if the truth was told, Joe knew that Bridie would not have wanted to leave Patrick behind anyway. On their wedding night, back at Joe’s house, Joe reached into his pocket and held open his hand. Nestled in his palm was the thin gold and garnet ring that his grandmother had given him, the one that Bridie had rescued from the pawn shop.

‘It’s too delicate to wear, but I’d like you to have it anyway,’ said Joe, placing it in her palm.

‘You kept your grandmother’s ring, after all this time. I’m so glad . . .’ said Bridie, her eyes misting as she looked at the worn little ring.

‘I kept it tucked away and thanks to you, my darling, it was given to me twice. Once by Nonna Celestina and once by you. And now I will give it back to you. The circle has closed.’

*

Joe and Bridie were very happy. The relationship between Bridie and Emilia evolved into a kind of truce. In the kitchen Emilia remained the boss, but Bridie asserted her domain on the enclosed verandah where she supervised the boys’ homework and, over time, had more and more to do with their upbringing. She even learned Italian. Joe taught Bridie to drive the car, which she loved to do. Emilia continued to walk to the waterfront and meet her Italian friends to exchange gossip, while Bridie became more involved with the Red Cross and the Country Women’s Association.

Everyone seemed to know their place and was content, except for Carlo. For while Ricardo and Pietro happily accepted Patrick into the family, it was evident to everyone that Carlo disliked his step-brother.

But whenever Bridie raised her concerns about the situation, Joe always said optimistically, ‘Give it time. It will all work out.’

Bridie told Joe that she was not so sure but she would not let the situation cast a cloud over the happy life she now had with Joe.

Indian Ocean, 1939

Joe drew on his
cigarette before he flipped the butt over the side of the ship and walked back to his cabin. As he opened the door he smiled at Bridie, who was sitting at the mirrored dressing table putting on her favourite earrings. ‘It’s breezy out there. You might need your wrap,’ he said.

‘Maybe it will be too cool for a walk around the deck after dinner. My hair will get blown to pieces.’

Joe sat on their bed and watched her. Her figure was as trim as the day they’d met some twenty odd years before. ‘You look beautiful. You always do.’

‘It’s nice to see you all dressed up in a dinner suit. You look so handsome. This trip has been glorious and we’re just starting out on our holiday!’ said Bridie happily.

Joe leaned down and kissed the top of her head affectionately. ‘I just wish we hadn’t lost so much time when we could have been together.’

Bridie gave a small smile. ‘Just be glad and happy that we’re together now.’

‘When we first met all those years ago on the
Ricconigi
, did you like me just a little – or a lot?’

‘Of course I liked you, we were friends.’

‘But at night, alone, did you ever dream of me? Think what if . . . ?’ persisted Joe.

‘Joe, darling, stop teasing. We’ve had six glorious years together. And each year is more wonderful than the last,’ she said softly. ‘And yes, deep down I did think of you, and wonder what might have been had things been different.’

‘I never stopped loving you! When I think back to our time on that cargo ship I kick myself that I didn’t persist a bit more. Maybe if I had you would have forgotten about Ronan.’

Bridie shook her head. ‘Things happen when they’re meant to, Joe. And this is our time.’

‘It certainly is.’ He reached for her hand and kissed it. ‘We waited long enough for a honeymoon. I’m looking forward to seeing Italy again but I don’t imagine that my home will have changed much.’

‘I don’t think that things will have changed much in Ireland either, but it will be good to find out.’ Then she added, ‘We’re going to be away such a long time. I do hope the boys are being good for Nonna.’

‘Don’t worry, darling. Ricardo is quite responsible and the others will be okay. My mother will be quite strict, I’m sure. But let’s forget about them for a while and enjoy ourselves. We’ve planned this trip for such a long time.’

‘Yes. You have worked so hard. You deserve this holiday.’ She stood up in her shimmering satin gown and held out her fur stole to Joe, who wrapped it around her bare shoulders.

‘I believe we’re seated at Captain Jorgensen’s table tonight. And tomorrow we’ll go ashore in Colombo. Do you remember the day we had there?’

‘Of course. I wonder if the little shop where you bought my elephant is still there.’ Bridie smiled at her husband. ‘How different this voyage is from the old
Ricconigi
. Remember that awful food!’

Joe chuckled. ‘I’m trying not to. Travelling first class is much, much better. Do you remember my good friend Antonio? I’m sorry that we lost touch when I had to leave Sydney in a hurry, but I like to think that he’s as successful and happy as me.’

‘I hope so, too.’ Bridie looked into Joe’s smiling eyes. ‘We’ve both seen some hard times and now we have the good times. I hope that our boys’ future will be bright too.’ Bridie’s smile suddenly faded. ‘Oh Joe, you don’t think there’ll be a war, do you?’

‘Hush, Bridie. This is a time for us to escape all our worries.’

As they walked to the dining room, Joe reflected on the last few years. He knew that his mother was disappointed that he had not married an Italian girl and she hadn’t always made life easy for Bridie. But to her credit, Bridie had managed to juggle her position as wife and mother, gently melding the family together to become a harmonious unit. He smiled as he thought of coming home from work one night to find his mother quietly darning socks, Bridie bottling fruit, the boys doing their homework and the table set, all waiting for his arrival before they sat down to eat, and he had felt overwhelmed by how lucky he was. Later that night in bed, holding Bridie in his arms, he thanked her for all she did and the happiness she had brought to his life and home.
And so he had insisted they take their long-delayed
honeymoon.

Over dinner at the captain’s table the talk soon turned to events in Europe.

‘Do you think that there will be war in Europe, Captain?’ asked Mr Whittaker, an English banker.

‘Highly unlikely,’ the captain replied. ‘Herr Hitler has got what he wants in Europe. He won’t ask for anything more. He signed an agreement with Mr Chamberlain in Munich to that effect.’

‘Rubbish,’ said another Englishman, who had the bearing of a military officer. ‘I wouldn’t trust that man an inch. He’s hoodwinked Chamberlain to give Germany time to increase its forces even more and when he’s ready he’ll unleash them on all of us. Churchill’s right: unless we act soon, Hitler will take all of Europe.’

‘But are France and England ready to act?’ asked Joe.

‘They are building up their military strength but whether that will be enough, I don’t know,’ replied the officer.

‘If there is a war, will Italy join in with Hitler?’ the Englishwoman sitting next to Joe asked.

Joe shrugged his shoulders. ‘I don’t know. From what I read, Mussolini has ideas of grandeur for Italy. He wants to build a new Roman Empire. That was the reason he invaded Abyssinia, wasn’t it?’

‘That was a shambles,’ said Mr Whittaker. ‘Sending in machine guns and planes against a bunch of natives. It was shocking how they used mustard gas. Apparently thousands died, and not just the Abyssinian soldiers. The spray from the aircraft poisoned the lakes and rivers, not to mention the ground crops and animals.’

‘It just showed that the League of Nations is a toothless tiger,’ remarked a Frenchman. ‘Nothing it tried to do could stop the invasion. And besides, after that, Italy left the League altogether, so there wasn’t anything that could be done for the Abyssinians anyway. It was all dreadful.’

‘I thought Mussolini was held in great respect by the Italians,’ said the woman next to Joe.

The Frenchman ignored her, then continued, ‘The upshot of it all is that Mussolini has aligned himself more closely with Hitler.’

‘Mussolini wants total access to the world’s oceans,’ said a doctor seated at the end of the table.

‘Just for starters,’ added the British banker pithily. ‘The question is, will Italy go to war if Germany does?’ he asked Joe.

‘I think Mussolini would only do such a thing if he could see some big advantage for Italy. Italians don’t like to become involved in wars. I speak from experience. I was a soldier in the last war.’

Seeing Joe shift uncomfortably the captain changed the subject. ‘Mr Aquino, how long is it since you were last in your homeland?’

‘I left Italy as a young man, and have lived in Australia for nearly twenty years. This is my first trip back. I am taking my wife to visit the island where I was born.’

‘It’s the first holiday we’ve ever had together. So far it’s been wonderful,’ said Bridie brightly, trying to lighten the mood.

The captain smiled at her. ‘That’s good to hear,
Mrs Aquino. Will you be visiting your homeland as well?’

‘We certainly hope so. I would like to see the changes in Ireland since independence.’

‘The Irish Republican Army is still causing a lot of trouble in the north,’ said Mr Whittaker.

The captain signalled the waiter to refill their glasses. ‘That’s true. We live in challenging times. But for now, let us enjoy ourselves, shall we?’ he said.

After dancing to the music of the ship’s band, Bridie and Joe strolled, arms linked, along the deck back to their cabin. It was a still evening. The moonlight cast a shimmering trail across the tranquil sea. They paused at the railing and Bridie leaned her head against Joe’s shoulder.

‘How peaceful. I’m glad I changed my mind about coming out on deck. It’s very beautiful here.’ She sighed and looked up at him. ‘Joe, I hated all that talk of fighting and dictators at dinner,’ she said.

‘Yes, men and their wars.’ Joe put his arm around her and pulled her close. ‘But there is truth in their speculation. It’s a funny thing, but I don’t feel connected to Europe anymore. Australia is my home and my children’s home and our future. Do you feel the same?’

Bridie nodded. ‘Oh, yes. I hate to admit it, but I don’t feel the same way I used to about Ireland either. I have followed such a different path. Maybe this trip is to say goodbye to the past.’

That night they made love and Bridie fell asleep curled beside Joe. But Joe didn’t sleep right away. He lay awake, feeling the powerful vibration of the ship’s engines far below. As they journeyed closer to Italy, he could feel the pull of his memories and childhood, and he wondered again at the way his life had changed since, as an inexperienced and poor young man, he had set out from his island carrying Alfonso’s battered suitcase containing his few clothes, the precious traffena and a swag of dreams. How lucky he’d been! Now he had Bridie as his wife, as well as a family of strong boys. He looked forward to telling his relatives of his good fortune.

*

As he had guessed, on his return to the island with Bridie, Joe found that little had changed there. He was sad his father and grandmother couldn’t meet Bridie, but all his brothers, sisters, other relatives and childhood friends gathered at his late parents’ little cottage, where his eldest brother now lived, all keen to see and hear how their Giuseppe had become successful in Australia, and interested in meeting his pretty, redheaded wife.

Joe was excited by the reunion and delighted to introduce Bridie to them but found that, after the casual cheerfulness of Whitby Point, the closed and traditional society of the island felt suffocating.

When the two of them walked around the little port, the old women, all dressed in black, studied Bridie with critical eyes as they sat outside their doors and crocheted, or severely swept their steps or gossiped at the market stalls with their meagre array of produce.

‘I don’t think that things are any better here under Mussolini than they were before. The islanders are still very poor,’ Joe confided to Bridie, looking at the posters of the dictator that were stuck on the public buildings.

Hand in hand, they strolled through the small township and its outskirts to the places Joe knew well, and he told Bridie stories of his childhood. He had often spoken to her of Angelica and of the importance of Alfonso in his life. Joe was delighted when his brothers told them that Alfonso was still living alone in his windswept shepherd’s cottage in the hills. For Joe the highlight of his trip to the island was visiting his elderly friend.

‘You have done well, as I knew you would,’ Alfonso told Joe over a glass of grappa in the kitchen, a scene that brought back many memories for them both. He smiled at Bridie. ‘And you have a lovely wife, who speaks very good Italian.’

‘Thank you,’ said Bridie.

‘She keeps my mother happy by speaking Italian with her,’ said Joe. ‘Mamma is very settled in Australia although she clings to the old ways and refuses to learn English, but she is strong like the olive trees and loves the boys. Now, tell me, Alfonso, what do people really think of Mussolini and his Fascists? I have tried to ask my brothers that question, but they avoid a straight answer.’

‘Mussolini’s very popular and his popularity increases all the time, especially after the conquest of Abyssinia, but most people on the island have become disillusioned with Fascism. There has been no improvement in their lives, they are still poor, but people don’t like to speak out for fear of incurring the attention of the police, who are as corrupt as ever. I fear that things will never change for the better on this little island. But it’s good that you have a new life that you love.’

‘My home is a small town, but a happy place and there is a future there for my sons. Franco, my first wife’s father, allows me to make my own decisions, so I am the boss. Fishing is in my blood, Alfonso, and the fishing is good off Whitby Point.’