What Love Is (3 page)

Nonna’s Unit

10 November

Mum phoned today. What a surprise! I thought maybe she wanted to make up, but that wasn’t the reason she phoned.

“Your Nonna’s had a fall at home and she’s been taken to hospital,” she said.

“What? Why did she fall? Did she trip? Is she all right?”

“I’m not sure what happened, Gina,” Mum said. “I’ve got to go down to Hamilton and find out. She’s having tests at the moment. It doesn’t look like she’s hurt herself too badly, but they want to find out why she fell.”

“Is it anything serious?” I asked. I suddenly felt guilty for not having seen Nonna for so long.

“I won’t know until I get there, Gina,” Mum said harshly. “And I can’t really afford to take the time off work, so I’ll drive down today and come back tomorrow once I’ve seen her and found out what’s wrong. I’ll let you know when I get back.”

As I put the phone down, I wondered if Nonna knew I was pregnant. I know I haven’t told her, but maybe Mum has. She’ll probably be mad at me because I’m not married.

Poor Nonna, I hope she’s okay.

12 November

Mum phoned me earlier. She’s back from Hamilton.

“She’s really sick,’ she said. “Your Nonna can’t stay on her own any more.”

“What’s wrong with her?” I asked.

“It’s her heart, she’s always had a weak heart.” This was news to me. “Either someone has to stay with her or she has to stay with someone. Well, I can’t stay there and she can’t stay with me so the other option is to put her into a rest home.”

“I can go and stay with her.”

“No, you can’t, Gina, you’re too young. And anyway, you’re pregnant. What are you going to do when the baby’s born? And besides, I don’t think that boyfriend of yours would let you do that.”

I knew that she was right. There was no way that Bevan would let me go and live with Nonna, not when the terms of his home detention meant that he wouldn’t be able to come down with me.

“So you’re going to put her in a home.”

“I’m not sure there’s much else I can do. I have to go back down at the weekend and start sorting things out. Do you want to come with me?”

I was surprised that she asked me, but I really wanted to see Nonna again. I was shocked. I mean, I knew that Nonna was old, but I didn’t think she was old enough to be that sick. I realised that I didn’t really know how old she was – sixty or seventy? She was born during the war and that was all I knew.

“Yes, I’ll come down with you,” I said.

Mum sounded relieved. “Right, I’ll pick you up tomorrow after work.”

I told Bevan. He wasn’t too pleased at first. He doesn’t like Mum and I don’t blame him, but I explained how ill Nonna was and that I had to see her.

“Tell me about your Nonna,” Bevan said as I packed. “What was it like living with her?”

“It was okay,” I said as I sat on the bed with some clothes folded in my arms. “Most of the other kids had parents – well, they had at least one of them – but I had none; just my grandmother. It was hard, because I wanted to do stuff but she was old and slow and she didn’t have a car so we couldn’t go anywhere. But I had my own room, and luckily her unit isn’t far from the city centre so it was easy to walk to the shops. We usually caught the bus if we wanted to go further, but we couldn’t go away on holiday unless we caught a coach or train, so we didn’t really go anywhere. We didn’t have a lot of money so I couldn’t have the latest toys or fashionable clothes, like my friends. I think Mum sent money from time to time but it never seemed to be enough. Somehow Nonna managed and I was happy.”

“Why did your mother leave you behind when she went to Australia?”

“I don’t really know. All I remember is her dropping me off at Nonna’s and saying she’d come back for me soon. I waited six years.”

“Didn’t she have any contact with you at all?”

“She sent letters and presents on my birthday, but I didn’t actually see her until she came back. I liked living with Nonna though, she made sure I had enough food, that I had the right clothes for school, that I did my homework and learnt Italian.”

“You can speak Italian?”

I nodded. “And I can read it too.” I smiled. “When we wanted to say something about someone else within earshot, we’d speak in Italian. It was funny at times.”

I paused. “But I had to stop speaking Italian after Mum got back from Australia, she didn’t like it. It was like I had to forget everything that I had said or done when I was with Nonna. I soon realised that I couldn’t live with Mum and made up my mind to move out as soon as I could. But it looks like I didn’t do so well myself – maybe I’m not much better than my mum.”

“You’re nothing like your mum,” Bevan said as he laid his hand over mine.

It’s times like these that I wish Katie was here to talk to, but she’s off on another modelling assignment and she’s not answering her texts. Maybe that’s okay, maybe I need a bit of a break, a chance to have some time on my own to figure things out.

17 November

It’s strange being back in Nonna’s unit. Here I am in my old bedroom, and it looks exactly the same as when I left it when I was eleven. There’s my posters on the walls and the dolls on the shelf and the naff bedspread with the big pink flowers on it. On the dresser sits the crucifix, and the rosary beads that I took to church, and on the wall, of course, is the picture of Mother Mary that would look down on me as I lay in bed, as if keeping a very close eye on me. Where was she when I went off the rails? I’d forgotten all about this stuff. I thought Nonna would have cleared it out, but perhaps she thought I would come back one day. Well, here I am – pregnant and unmarried. What will Nonna say when she sees me?

18 November

Seeing Nonna in hospital was a shock. She looked so old, lying in that bed. At first she didn’t recognize me, she thought I was Mum, then I had to tell her who I was and she still looked confused.

“I grew up,” I said. “I’m not a little girl any more.”

“You’ve put on weight.”

“I’m having a baby, Nonna.”

“When did you get married?’

“I didn’t, Nonna.”

She frowned then, and I thought she was about to tell me off, but a nurse came in and distracted her and when the nurse had gone, Nonna seemed to have forgotten the conversation.

This is not the Nonna I remember, and I regret not coming down to see her more often. If I’d spent more time with her, then maybe she wouldn’t have ended up in hospital. I’ve been so caught up in my own life that I lost contact with her and almost wiped her from my life. I have to make it up to Nonna by spending time with her now. I know she’d like that, even if she might not always recognize me.

19 November

I rang Bevan and told him I’d be down here for a while.

“How long?” he asked.

“I’m not sure. Until we move Nonna, at least. I don’t know how long that will take.”

“Is she all right?”

“I guess so, but she’s looking old. Mum’s spending most of the time at the hospital and she’s asked if I can look for something called an enduring power of attorney amongst Nonna’s things. I don’t know what that is, but it’s some kind of important legal document that Mum needs so she can sign papers for Nonna. I suppose I’ll know it when I see it. So I’m going through the cupboards and drawers.”

“You’re not climbing ladders are you?”

“I looked over at the stepladder by the cupboard. “No, Bevan I’m not,” I lied.

The concern in his voice filled the empty void in my heart, and for a moment I longed for his arms around me.

“Mum says I also need to find a copy of Nonna’s will. Why would she need that? We don’t need a will until she dies.”

“She’s not dying is she?”

“I don’t know, Bevan. Mum seems all flustered and she won’t tell me stuff. Surely Nonna will get better, won’t she? I want her to see her great-grandchild.”

“I’m sure she will,” Bevan said.

I hope that he’s right. Suddenly, having this baby is important.

21 November

I haven’t found the papers Mum asked me to look for, but I have found this really old book. It looks like it’s been in a fire because the cover is blackened and the edges of the pages are scorched. It’s been wrapped in tissue paper and placed in a box on the top shelf of the cupboard, as if it’s important. As soon as I found it, I sat on the bed and opened it. The paper is brown and thin, the writing is very small and in pencil; some of the letters are smudged. It looks like a diary because it has dates on it, but it’s written in Italian. At first I thought it could have been Nonna’s, but then I noticed that the first date is 9 September 1943, so if Nonna was born during the war, then she’d have been too young to write it. I’ve looked for a name but can’t see one. Maybe if I read it, I’ll find out who it belonged to. I hope I can still remember how to read Italian.

The War Has Ended

9 September 1943

Down in the village they say the war has ended and that an armistice had been signed with the Anglo-Americans. Mussolini is now a prisoner at Gran Sasso. Does this mean that Nico will return? When he came back from the fighting in Africa, we could see he was a different man from when he left to go to war. He was only here for a few days on short leave before he returned to his barracks and since then we have had no word from him, but we have heard that the Germans are rounding up the young men from our army and sending them to Germany to work in their factories. I hope that Nico is not amongst them! I pray for him every night.

10 September 1943

There is no message from Nico. And there is to be no peace. The Germans are still here and the Anglo-Americans are in the south. If we thought the Germans would just leave the country after the armistice, then we were mistaken, so says the old man Antonio in the village. He told me that the king, premier and most of the new government have fled Italy and are on the island of Bari. What good they do us there, the cowards! The Anglo-Americans have landed at Salerno but that is a long way from us. In the meantime we have to get the harvest in so we can stock up for winter.

Now it is just Papa and me and Anna. I don’t know how we will get in the harvest without my brother. I miss him so much. I hope the British come soon and then Nico can come back.

13 September

Mussolini has been freed! The Germans raided Gran Sasso and took him away. Now no one knows where he is. Some say he has been taken to Germany and some say he is in the hills. I don’t care where he is as long as he doesn’t come back. He has brought nothing but misery to our country and has taken my brother away from us. Anna and I have to do all the work around the farm. Oh Nico, please come back to us now that the war is over!

23 September

It seems that God is not listening to my prayers. Mussolini is back in power and we are now in the Italian Socialist Republic. Hah! Where is our freedom? We still haven’t heard from Nico, even though we ask all the young men who come from the village as they flee from the Germans.

22 November

I showed Mum the diary I found.

“Oh, this must be the war diary Mum told me about,” she said as she turned it in her hands. “She said it was the diary of my grandmother, Lina – that’s your great-grandmother.” She opened the book and ran her finger down the page. “It’s in Italian.”

“I can read it,” I said as I took the book from her and held it protectively, suspecting that Mum would throw it away. “Nonna taught me.”

“Did she?” Mum said, as if surprised. “I never learnt how to read Italian, just to speak it. I guess that’s why she never showed me the diary. I didn’t think it actually existed. Now I know it does.”

“She sounds young here,” I said, holding up the diary.

“Well, I think she was only sixteen or seventeen when she married Grandpa Harry
and that was during the war.
He always talked of her being his child bride. And she
was pregnant with
your grandmother when she was young too.”

“A bit like me
,
”
I said as
I ran my hand over my stomach.

“Yes, like you,” she said with a frown. I know she doesn’t like talking about it so I changed the subject.

“What’s happening with Nonna – is she going to come home?”

Mum shook her head. “I’ve been going through the options, but I have no choice but to find a rest home for her. Either that or she moves in with me.” She shook her head. “I don’t know how she’d cope living in an apartment in the city, and besides, I couldn’t leave her alone while I went out to work.”

“She can’t stay with me either,” I said. “I don’t have a place of my own.”

“Yes, I know that. They gave me a whole lot of pamphlets, so tomorrow I’ll have to start ringing around and looking at places. I’d better tell work that I won’t be back until this is sorted. I’ll have to take annual leave to cover it.”

“So Nonna won’t ever come back here?”

“No, she’ll have to go straight into full-time care.” Mum looked around the unit. “This was her home for so long, it holds so many memories, so many secrets.” She pointed at the book in my hand. “Including some in there, I bet.” She got up from the chair. “I’ll start dinner. Then I have a heap of paperwork to do.”

She looked weary and I almost felt sorry for her – almost. She had used my grandmother while she mucked around in Australia, and now she had to put her life on hold to sort things out for Nonna. There was some sort of justice in that.

15 October

No one knows what is happening, who is charge. We have seen planes flying overhead. We don’t know whose they are. We are too far north to hear or see any fighting but we have been told that the British and Americans are moving towards us. Mussolini says he is our commander but I think it is Hitler who is in charge, that Mussolini only does what Hitler tells him to do. I mean, he is surrounded by Germans in Villi Feltrinelli and he cannot move without his guards. There are posters going up in the village saying that the liberators are not to be trusted; that it is them that are bombing our cities and killing our people.

25 October

Nico was here! He’s not been transported to Germany but he is hunted. When the armistice was declared, he had been at the barracks at Bra, near Turin. The officers told the men that they were no longer at war with the Anglo-Americans and that all of them had to report in the morning for new orders. He had heard the rumours of the men being transported to Germany so he decided to leave the barracks that night and hide in a friend’s house for a while, but they he knew that he couldn’t stay there forever. The Germans were getting closer and it was too dangerous to stay. He left his friend’s house and made his way to us but he’s not been able to use the roads for fear of being seen by the Germans and captured or shot.

I hugged him, glad that he was back and told him that he could help with the harvest, but he says he can’t stay at the farm in case he is caught. He can’t risk being sent to Germany to fight with the Germans or labour in their factories so he will go to San Pietro where some of the men from his division have gone. He says that he just wanted to tell us where he was heading. Papa tried to get him to stay, saying that we would hide him when the Germans came, but he said he will not hide like a rat. He wants to fight the Germans now, instead of with them, that he wants to rid the country of the Fascists and set up a new government – one run by the people.

I’d not seen my brother so impassioned before and suddenly he isn’t the boy with whom I had played in the fields, but a man even though he isn’t yet twenty.

12 November

The nights are long and cold now. I am glad we have wood for the fire, but our food is low. Germans came yesterday and shot Rosetta who provided us with milk every day, and threw her into the back of a truck. They said we had to be prepared to make sacrifices for Mussolini and the successful defence of our country against the invaders. I wanted to spit in their faces, but I looked at Papa’s expression and knew that to do so would risk following Rosetta’s corpse into the back of the truck. I spat at them as they left. They took most of our stores too but Rosetta was the most valuable. I’m not sure now what we shall eat through the long winter. I hope the Anglo-Americans come soon.

23 November

I went for a walk today, along the river and into Memorial Park. I stood at the wall on which were inscribed the names of those killed in the two world wars, and thought about my great-grandmother who was in Italy during the Second World War. As I ran my finger over the names, I wondered how many of these had been killed in Italy. When I turned around, I could see the aeroplane on its pedestal, looking like it was actually flying, and tried to imagine what it would be like to be in a country at war, with planes flying overhead and bombs dropping. I really couldn’t imagine it at all.

I walked over to a big gun enclosed in iron mesh, and tried to envision it spitting out missiles. But it just sat there, inert and dumb. On the riverbank below me, three boys in hoodies sat in a group, joking and drinking from a bottle wrapped in a paper bag, music blaring from an iPod – it sounded tinny over the mini speakers. A few months ago that would have been Bevan, getting drunk and causing trouble, but that wasn’t him any more. Neither was I the same girl – now pregnant and without a job. But there was a kind of release in being somewhere different, somewhere removed from my home, wherever that was, and for a moment I understood how Bevan must have felt when he ran away, how he could feel released from the world that had trapped him.

I turned away from the riverbank, glanced over to the cenotaph then made my way past the children’s playground, thinking of my great-grandfather in the war.

I’d never known Grandpa Harry, he had died long before I was born, and I had only faint memories of Grandma Lina – a little old lady sitting in an armchair. It was hard to think of her as a young woman working in the fields of Italy, with an older brother and a younger sister. What had happened to them?

I asked Mum.

“I have no idea,” she said as we sat at the dining room table that evening. “I never met anyone from her family, only Grandpa Harry’s family. It’s like her family didn’t exist.”

“They must have existed because she talks about them here – Papa and Nico, her brother, and Anna, her sister. She never said anything to you?”

Mum shook her head. She’d been gone all day, going from one aged facility to the next and putting Nonna’s name on waiting lists. No one had a room for her. I wanted Nonna to come back home, but Mum said it wasn’t possible. I could see she was tired and frustrated so I didn’t ask her anything more.

Bevan called me this evening.

“How’s it going?” he asked.

“Not so good,” I told him. “Mum’s trying to find somewhere that will take Nonna, but everywhere is full. The hospital says that she should be okay to leave in a week but if we haven’t found anything by then, I don’t know what Mum’s going to do.”

“So you’ll be there for a while?” He sounded lonely, a little lost without me. I knew he was missing me but I couldn’t admit that I was enjoying having my own space away from him, even if that space was with my mum. I told him about the diary I had found.

“That’s cool,” he said. “So now you can find out something about your family’s history.”

“There’s more questions than answers so far,” I told him. “My great-grandmother had family in Italy, but Mum doesn’t know anything about them.”

“Maybe you can find out.”

“I don’t think my great-grandmother is going to come to me in a dream like your ancestors did.”

“But you’ve got her diary which is even better. It’s something real, not like my dreams, which were more like nightmares. Are you taking care of yourself down there?”

“Yes, I went for a walk today in the sunshine and I watched the kids playing in the children’s playground.”

“We’ll soon have a kid like that, playing in the park.”

I didn’t tell him that, hard as I tried, I couldn’t imagine myself as one of the mums waiting on the fringes, one eye always on their precious child as they ran and screamed and explored the playground. The baby had kicked inside me as I’d sat there on a bench, and I’d thought maybe it could hear the children and wanted to play too. It was a weird feeling.

“I love you,” Bevan said as he ended the call.

I hit the “end” button without replying.