The Sunnyvale Girls (18 page)

The pretty girl approached Stefano and started talking to him while looking Flick up and down. Something in her gaze was uncomfortable and Flick got the distinct impression that she probably wasn't a sister.

‘This is Sofia, she works with us. She will cover my lunch shift tomorrow.'

Stefano looked pleased, which was more than she could say about Sofia. Her dark eyebrows were pressed together, eyeing Flick accusingly.

They spoke more Italian, and Flick felt like a third wheel. ‘Um, look. I'll go and leave you be,' she said, cutting in.

‘You coming for dinner?'

There was hope on his face and it set her heart aflutter.

‘Sure, you know a good restaurant?'

Now Sofia was watching their interaction with a scowl. It wasn't fun being the odd one out.

Stefano's lips curled up at the edges. ‘I do.'

His wink was so quick she nearly missed it.

Flick waved, including Sofia in her goodbye. ‘
Ciao
.'

She jogged back to their house with a stupid grin. She was glad they were coming back for dinner. It felt like she'd known him for weeks instead of a few days. How could that be? And then tomorrow they would be spending even more time together. She couldn't wait.

THE
next day Toni sat in the back of the car as she watched Stefano driving, with Flick was in the front keeping him company. The two were hitting it off so well. He was such a lovely young man, so kind, and with beautiful manners. He had a cheeky streak, which reminded her of Jimmy, a characteristic that made life a little interesting and fun. Flick, it seemed, had inherited similar tastes.

Toni wished she hadn't thought about Jimmy again, but it was hard not to. She saw visions of him in the morning light, she caught aspects of him in Stefano and she recognised him in some of the things Flick said. He was embedded in everything around her and their time apart was proving much harder than she'd anticipated. She felt as if she'd lost half her brain; she was so used to being with him every day and he could always predict her actions. He would be taking good care of the farm and Maggie, she knew that without a doubt. Her trust in him was faultless. In her eyes, he was perfect.

‘I care for you,' he'd said. Did he really mean that? Was he aware of what all that entailed? Is that why he let her go? Toni had never really loved anyone besides her family. Could she handle things if they didn't work out? Could you mend a 53-year-old heart if it broke?

Tracing her lips with her finger, she remembered his kiss by the bonfire. Closing her eyes, she felt his breath as he whispered against her ear. With a sigh, she realised she was just tormenting herself.

The kids in front were laughing and Toni tried to focus on their conversation. They had such easygoing natures and bounced off each other as if they had been friends for years. Since dinner last night, she had noticed a change. They joked and teased, and the looks did linger. Stefano hadn't waited on them like the previous night, instead they had a girl who wasn't as friendly. Her English had been basic, to the point of being rude.

‘What do you reckon, Mum?' said Flick, looking back. She wore a sweet white lace dress and had her hair out. Even without make-up she was gorgeous.

‘About what?' Toni knew the extra effort was for a certain young man driving their car. Luckily for them the weather had been lovely during the day. But Stefano had mentioned it had been raining on and off lately.

‘Stefano said he would take us out to Gubbio tomorrow. It's not far from us and there are medieval, Gothic and Renaissance monuments and an old Roman amphitheatre.'

‘It is also known for its ceramics. You have some in your place in Montone,' said Stefano without taking his eyes off the road.

‘Wow, that sounds great.' Toni leant forward. ‘Are you sure you can spare the time?'

‘I don't work till dinner, so if we go early we can be back in time. You will need a few good hours there to explore.'

Flick was watching her, eagerly waiting for her decision. ‘That would be wonderful, Stefano. Thank you.'

‘
Prego
,' he said.

Toni was used to the Italian word for ‘you're welcome'. Every time they thanked someone, ‘
prego'
followed. She could just about add the basic greetings to her Italian vocabulary now. For a moment, she wondered how nice it would be to go home and say something to Jimmy in Italian. What was Italian for ‘I care for you too, but I'm scared'?

‘We're here, right on time too. Thanks, Stefano. Last time we took a detour without even realising,' said Flick as a sign for Chiaravalle went past. Flick guided him to the right street and he parked out the front of a simple house just on the outskirts of town.

Toni grabbed all the records and photos as they got out.

They all fell into step as they walked through the knee-high gate. The house was rendered, with one half in an apricot colour and the other half, which jutted out towards the road, a shade of green. There was a small vacant block by the house that had a vegetable garden, and grass grew through pavers that connected it to the house. They paused at a pine front door with two gold knobs. Two sets of eyes watched Toni. They were leaving it up to her. Lifting her hand, she clenched her fist to stop the shakes and knocked quickly.

Flick rubbed her hands together. ‘I'm so excited.'

Toni nodded, unable to speak. Last night they had talked into the night, running on tea and nerves, discussing where Rocco could be. Was he married? Did he have kids? Was he happy? Would he see them? They had talked until their eyelids had drooped and yawns grew many.

Stefano slid a hand into his jeans pocket. He wore a white T-shirt with a red strip across the front. Today he smelt young, fresh and manly, no lingering scent of restaurant food. The sparkle in Flick's eyes brought a warmth to Toni's heart; she loved seeing her daughter so happy and alive. She wore a similar expression when she returned from watching a sunset with Contractor and Fella. Toni was blessed to have such a charismatic, bubbly daughter. Simon had given her the gift of an angel. Shame stabbed at her – Simon didn't know how amazing his own daughter was, but over the years Toni had grown to live with the pangs of guilt. Why did they seem even more intense today?

The door rattled open to reveal a medium-built woman wearing slippers and a tracksuit, similar to something Maggie would wear.

‘
Buongiorno
,' she said softly. Her faded brown hair was cut short, and lines tracked along her face.

‘
Buongiorno
. Francesca?' asked Toni.

The older lady smiled and gestured for them to come in.

Stefano continued with introductions as Francesca led them to a sitting area. Toni and Flick smiled, greeting her with ‘
ciao
' when they heard their names mentioned.

Francesca waved to the worn yellow couch while she sat in an upright chair next to it. It was a tight fit as all three of them sat down. The room was small and had white walls decorated with photos, plates and some religious mementos. A chest sat in the corner of the room, overflowing with kids' toys.

It was difficult to know what to say, especially when poor Stefano had to repeat it for them. But seeing as though he knew a lot about their story, he took the lead and spoke to her at great length. Toni handed over the records and showed Francesca the photo.

She nodded emphatically and grinned. ‘
Si,
Rocco.
Fratello.
'

‘Yes, he's her brother,' said Stefano.

Toni's stomach released the twisted knot it had been forming since they arrived. She knew without a doubt they had the right family.

‘Where is he?' asked Flick.

Stefano repeated it and more discussion continued, then a look of shock spread across Stefano's face. ‘
Scherzi!
' he said.

‘What? What'd she say?' pressed Toni. She scooted forward on the couch. She needed to know now. She was almost sure that Francesca had said Australia. But that couldn't be possible, could it?

‘You not believe where Rocco is.' He paused, his eyes wide.

‘Montone?' said Flick. ‘Arezzo?'

Stefano shook his head. A smile tugged at his perfect lips. ‘Western Australia.'

‘What!' Flick and Toni said in unison. Francesca nodded as they gazed at her.

‘How? Why? When?' Toni rattled off.

‘She said he returned to Australia after the war and now lives there.'

Toni was so astonished she couldn't process what this meant. She turned to Flick, her eyes as huge as party balloons.

‘No way. We came all the way to Italy to find Rocco and he's in our own state?'

Stefano smiled at Flick and confirmed it. He seemed almost as excited as they were by the discovery, swept up in their saga.

Toni blinked back tears of surprise while her mind raced. ‘Please ask her why he went back,' she prompted Stefano gently.

Francesca stood up after his question, went to a petite wooden cupboard and pulled out a small album. She flicked through it as she sat back down, sliding a few photos free from under the clear cover and passing them across to Toni. She instantly recognised the same picture they had, of Rocco and Giulio with the kangaroo. Tears welled in her eyes. Flick was also blinking rapidly, and her smile reflected how Toni felt. This was a major connection. Something linking Italy to Sunnyvale, their history intertwined.

‘These are some that her brother gave her,' said Stefano.

‘Oh, we have these same photos.' Toni got out the ones they'd also brought, of Rocco by the new house and one with the Fullers. She passed them to Francesca, who laughed and nodded while mumbling something in Italian. She looked just as amazed at what they shared.

Francesca held out the photo of Uncle Charlie, Maggie and their parents and pointed at Maggie.

Stefano translated Francesca's words: ‘Rocco returned to Australia for this woman. He said he loved her. It was three years before he was allowed back.'

Toni's jaw dropped. Flick was staring with the same expression. Rocco
had
come for Maggie.

‘But Nan never saw him.' Flick looked grief-stricken. She reached across Toni for Stefano's hand. ‘Please ask her what happened after he got to Australia?'

Waiting for Francesca's words to be translated was excruciating.

‘She said that he went to Australia, got work with a farmer who had um . . . sponsored, I think is the right word?' When they nodded he continued. ‘They sponsored him and then after time he bought his own farm. She says he never talked of this girl again.'

They all looked at Maggie in the black and white photo and fell quiet.

Toni pulled some of the other photos Francesca had closer, ones of an older Rocco – maybe in his late twenties – standing by a tent between gum trees, and another of him on what must have been his wedding day, looking older again and very handsome beside his blonde bride. It was surreal to think that this was her father. Emotions rolled around her like waves, bringing a new feeling each time: sadness, joy, loss, regret.

‘He got married. Wow.' It was very likely she had siblings too.

‘This is him a few years ago, when he last visited Italy,' said Stefano, indicating the photo Francesca had mentioned.

‘Could we have this one, please?' asked Flick. ‘Tell her I'd like to take it to show my grandmother. I can make a copy of it and post it back. Tell her that this is my grandmother.'

Francesca reached for her hand and nodded, talking to Stefano some more.

‘She said you can take it. She doesn't know what happened. He did mention the farm and talked a lot about the girl he was going back to marry, but once he was there it all suddenly stopped.'

Toni moved to Francesca's side, kneeling on the floor beside her chair. Her focus stayed on Francesca but she spoke to Stefano. ‘Please tell her I am Maggie's daughter and that Rocco is my father. I want her to know that she is my aunty.' Toni croaked out the last words.

Francesca's eyes grew wide as Stefano talked. She started talking in Italian to Toni, her worn hands reaching out to touch her face.

‘She didn't know about a child, but says she believes you. Now that she looks closely, you remind her of him. You have his eyes.'

Tears were rolling down Toni's cheeks, and she was unable to stop them. Francesca then took her in her arms and hugged her. It was hard to believe that she was her aunty, her blood, and they'd only just met and couldn't even speak to each other. Toni had so much to ask her.

When they finally pulled apart and mopped up their tears, Francesca reached for her album, flicking through it excitedly. She threw her arms up when she found it and gestured for Toni to look. It was Rocco and Francesca together, sometime after the war.

‘She said you look like her.'

Toni agreed. Back before her hair had started to grey she had definitely resembled Francesca when she was younger. It was amazing to see herself in these people; a side of her that didn't seem to fit in before, not with Arthur or his family, now seemed to belong somewhere.

Next to this photo was a family portrait. Rocco looked about twelve. An older brother stood on one side and Francesca on the other, their parents standing proudly behind them. Francesca saw Toni looking at it and took it out for her to study, talking to Stefano.

‘Francesca was twelve when the war stole both her brothers. Only Rocco survived,' Stefano translated.

Just like Maggie's parents, Rocco's parents had lost children to the war. Toni turned the photo over, and read the names written on the back in sloped ink:
Rocco, Francesca, Giuseppe, Carlo
and
Antonia
.

Toni sucked in her breath.
Antonia.
She pointed to herself. ‘My name is Antonia too.'

Francesca put her hands to her mouth in joy and disbelief before reaching for Toni's hand again, grasping it tightly for an elderly lady.

Stefano again translated Francesca's words. ‘She is so happy you came. She lives alone, her husband passed away but her two children visit and she helps look after the grandchildren.'

‘Can I ask for Rocco's address?' Toni glanced at Flick, who had shuffled up the couch next to Stefano. ‘I'd like to meet him. Does he have kids?'

‘He married at thirty-eight and has two children,' answered Stefano as Francesca got up to write his address for them. She pressed it into Toni's hand.

Rocco Valducci

‘Maggie Downs'

RMB 120

Quairading WA 6383

Toni sat back on the floor, reread the address a few more times and then glanced up at Flick. ‘He's in Quairading. Bloody hell, it's not even two hours from home. How is this possible? I've lived this close to him my whole life.'

Flick sighed heavily and held her head. ‘All this time he was right under our noses. Can you believe this, Mum?'

Toni was still speechless.
Maggie Downs
. If his letters hadn't spelt it out clearly enough, the name of his farm did. He'd loved Maggie.