The Italian Romance, page 35
And the thing is, I can’t really recall what the argument was about. Was it over Lucy, poor befuddled Lucy? She’d had too much wine, too much heat, too little food. She wanted to tell us about Naples, when she was stuck down there during the war. She said there was a tank that had been blown up. Was it German, or American? She said it was too hot to touch for days. No one could open the hatch to look in. Fat dripped itself into a puddle underneath it. She had terrible eyes, Lucy. I remember now that she looked at me and said, ‘The soldiers. That was the soldiers. Cooked.’ I put my bread and cheese down on the wooden table.
I don’t know why it upset me so much. You said I spoiled the day for everyone. We fought all the way through the park till we came out beside the Spanish Steps.
There, at the end of an avenue which ran the length of Rome, was that same sun, fat, bloated, hanging over the dome of St Peter’s; and it had all been laid out precisely for that sun, that evening moment, so they say. We stood, you crushing me against the stone balustrade. You said, ‘We are standing in front of eternity and all we do is fight.’
‘You don’t care, Nio, about what I’m going through. I lost my little girl, don’t you understand?’
‘And I? I lost my son. Don’t you care about that?’
And like the fool that I am, I could think of nothing else to do but cry. You couldn’t stand that. You patted my back, said, ‘Lily, cara. Ssh. Sorry, sorry. Stop now.’
I wiped my nose with my hand. You said to me, ‘Why do you love me, darling? I am such a selfish oaf. One day you will not care anymore. You’ll see me as I am, and you won’t love me then.’
I leaned back from you, to look in your face. I touched your eyebrow. ‘I love your eyebrows, Nio, did I tell you that?’ I put my fingers on your jaw and turned you slightly so you had to look at me, too. ‘Don’t you understand? Nothing will make me stop loving you.’
You and I looked into each other’s eyes.
Your son is alive, Nio. I carry all your joy for you. You taught me how to love someone more than myself. I think I taught you, too.
First published 2005 by University of Queensland Press
PO Box 6042, St Lucia, Queensland 4067 Australia
Reprinted 2005 (four times)
www.uqp.com.au
© Joanne Carroll 2005
This book is copyright. Except for private study, research, criticism or reviews, as permitted under the Copyright Act, no part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior written permission. Enquiries should be made to the publisher.
Typeset in 11/13. 5 pt Bembo by Post Pre-Press Group, Brisbane, Queensland
Printed in Australia by McPherson’s Printing Group
This project has been assisted by the Commonwealth Government through the Australia Council, its arts funding and advisory body.
Cataloguing in Publishing Data
National Library of Australia
Carroll, Joanne, 1951–.
The Italian romance.
1. Prisoners of war – Italy – Fiction. 2. Prisoners of war – Australia – Fiction. 3. World War, 1939–1945 – Social aspects – Australia – Fiction. 4. Man-woman relationships – Fiction. 5. Italy – Fiction. I. Title.
A823. 3
ISBN 978 0 7022 3513 9 (pbk)
ISBN 978 0 7022 5201 3 (pdf)
ISBN 978 0 7022 5202 0 (epub)
ISBN 978 0 7022 5203 7 (kindle)
Joanne Carroll, The Italian Romance
