Читать книгу Memories Of Our Days - Chiara Cesetti - Страница 5

1 Part one

1 Chapter 1

Giovanni e Giulia

-Thank God, it’s over!

-What a night! What a night! What a night!-

The two women were moving about in a frenzy trying to tidy up all the things scattered in the kitchen. They stopped now and again for no reason, rubbing their hands on their aprons or removing from their eyes an invisible lock of hair.

-It is a miracle that it went well-

-No, it is not a miracle- Dr Marinucci’s voice made them turn suddenly to the door –it’s not a miracle Ada. It has been a long but not risky labour. Giulia had a hard time but she will recover soon and the baby is healthy and strong. And now please make me a good cup of coffee!- he said clapping his hands.

The doctor smiled and that released the tension quickly and for the first time Ada and Maria could start feeling the joy that the birth of a baby brings.

The first ray of sun peeped through the window.

Winter had been long, almost endless, but the day Antonio was born, there was a warm sun which let foresee a slow spring.

The stressful moments of the night just gone, gave way to the happiness for this joyful event. Quietness followed the commotion of earlier on, to show respect for the hard time that the mother had. Giulia was now asleep beside a baby with black hair and dark eyes.

The baby’s slanty eyes were the same as his mother and the dark complexion like the father. His tiny lips were closed on an inexpressive and undefined face of someone who, totally helpless, has landed, without knowing it, to a place unknown to him. Giovanni was afraid to touch him.

Wrapped around in a swaddling blanket, covered up in of the many woollen blankets that the aunts had made for him -Hold him in your arms- Giulia said to him.

-No, no. It is so tiny- he replied, looking with apprehension at the little head which was dangling motionless. She was making a laugh of his fear; she managed to get a smile tickling the baby’s chin.

She was quite petite, her well-proportioned body made her look taller than she actually was. Her face was not particularly beautiful, her thick eyebrows framed her bright hazel eyes in which you could see that the liveliness was hardly restrained by the effort made to think before speaking. You could get from her this sense of firmness in her beliefs which shielded her from the difficulties of every day life and, though still quite young, she had the ability to quietly get her place in every situation arising.

Giovanni was tall, almost sturdy, and was, as everybody said, a handsome man. So many people were astounded to hear that he asked Giulia to marry him just because they could not see inside his soul. He had met her in the house of a common relation and he saw in that little woman something that he would have never found in anyone else. Giulia, on the other hand, felt a strong attraction, which she hid very well when there were other people around, but it would feel her soul and sometimes, suddenly and unrestrained, was showing in the looks she would give him.

They got married a few months after they had met, on May 12th, 1906. In their wedding photo the bride was only slightly shorter than the husband because the photographer insisted on her to get up on a little stool.

They lived with Giovanni’s family: his father and his two unmarried sisters, Ada and Maria, in the big house just outside the small town.

In the early days Giulia felt observed and judged: she had to undergo a daily test under the watchful eye of her new relations. She soon understood everybody’s boundaries and struggled in silence to have her own space.

Day after day, among all the unspoken words which materialised in small silent gestures, the exchange of quick allusive glances and the daily worries, each of them changed their ways a little and the household could bear the presence of three women.

The sisters-in-law learnt soon enough that Giulia’s unsaid words were much more meaningful and started to fear her judgements, without blaming her for anything, considering that she was never impolite to them. While the two sisters compared their sensations and express their dissatisfactions, Giulia never even mentioned her little daily worries to her husband. Giovanni was not aware of the minor underground conflicts taking place within the household walls and in the evening he could enjoy her warm presence without worries, more and more aware and almost shocked at the inner strength of his little woman.

A few months later, the old Antonio Barrieri died peacefully in his bed. His daughters found him dead one morning when, as usual, they went up to his bedroom to give him his breakfast.

The pain was alleviated knowing that the old man passed away without suffering, happy to know that he would have had a heir. He had passed on the farm to his son a few years before and things went on exactly the same after his death.

The house was big, one of the biggest in the small town, surrounded by land owned by the family. It was a two-storey house, the two small windows in the attic were always closed. Above the big hall door there was a balcony with a balustrade made of small grey columns, it overlooked the valley as far as the river that circumscribed the property . On the right-hand side, down below, there was a forest, where the cattle grazed in the wild: horses, cows, pigs that were bred and sold. The Barrieri family were farmers and they were trading cattle too.

The birth of little Antonio legitimised Giulia as unconditioned mistress of the house. The aunts were now ready to pass on the sceptre to the one who had given the family the precious fruit of her femininity. The gift of maternity that they could never have, acknowledged the undisputed superiority: they subdued to the little one who was asleep upstairs and to his mother as a consequence. On her part, the young woman never gave the impression of taking advantage of her condition, and quietly, over time, she arranged and managed the household according to her wish.

Over the following five years three more children were born: Clara, Agnese and Luciano; everybody’s help was needed.

Clara was the image of her father. She had black and curly hair, her skin was amber and glowing, her eyes had an undefined dark green colour and her upright posture made her into a beautiful creature.

She showed self-control and stubbornness which discouraged any quarrel with her. Looking at her, her mother prayed to God she would always make the right choices, because she knew that nobody would have deflected her from anything she had set her mind on. Her mother too found it difficult to get deep down her soul. At times, during a discussion, she was concerned to see her isolate herself with her thoughts, leaving herself out of conversations on purpose and chase one of her secret feelings, she would then make an effort within herself to get back and take part in the conversation. If was almost as if she wanted to create an alibi towards the others, just to avoid being questioned about her silence.

One evening, she was just over three, they were all sitting around the table for dinner. The kitchen was well lit and heated by the fire which was blazing in the big fireplace. The room was connected to a large dark hall, at the end of which there were the hall door to the house and halfway through the corridor, the staircase leading to the bedrooms upstairs..everybody was around the table. The little girl was quiet as usual, she was sitting with her back to the hall. All of a sudden she let off a scream and got down from the chair.

-What’s up? What’s happening?- Giovanni took her immediately on his lap, frightened while she was screaming, clung to her father’s neck.

-What did you see?-

They dashed to the hall. Everything was fine.

-There is nothing, look, there’s nothing, you see?- The lit up room was empty.

Everyone was very busy around her trying to comfort her, to convince her that nothing had happened and nothing would have happened. She was quite stubborn and kept on shaking and crying, so upset from that shadow that had suddenly appeared in her soul. When she realised that there were too many people sharing her dismay, she wriggled out of her father’s hug, went back to her seat and started eating leaving everybody in shock because without saying words that she did not know yet, with her quiet and composed attitude seemed to tell all of them - Please excuse me and don’t worry about me, this is my business and I’ll deal with that myself. Now please ignore me-

She was never in conflict with her mother. She understood her ways and did not like to get in conflict with her. She had taken from her mother, her apparent natural quietness and her emotional self-control, but also she was sure of her actions because they were well-thought-out knowing that she would take responsibility for the consequences. Their personalities were quite similar but she had never shown much closeness, as if she had received from her everything since her birth and there was nothing left to learn.

She was fascinated by her father, her eyes lit up with deep excitement when she saw him, delighted to sit on his knees or on his shoulders, she was so tall she could rule over the world.

-Claclà, come here- he used to say to her in the evening before sitting down at the table. While the women finished up making the dinner, in winter, beside the fireplace, among the familiar smells mixing together in the house at the end of the day, or in summer, under the porch where the smell from the countryside blended with the smells of the animals, Giovanni would put her astride his boots and she would fly around the place, his strong hands holding hers.

-Up you go!

They were rare moments when she was laughing loud. When they were about to stop playing, after flying around higher one last time, he would take her in his arms and she would rather breathless smell his work jacket deeply and the laughter would stay in her eyes for a long time.

Antonio would get in between them, even though he would not enjoy himself as much as her. Sometimes he felt as if he was almost an intruder and, feeling slightly uneasy, he would move away and go back to what he was doing before or just watch them enjoy themselves. Giovanni would walk by him and pet his head or take his chin in between his fingers, saying -Hey, young man! Shaking him vigorously.

Antonio, Antonino, had a different temperament than his sister. He was leading a quieter childhood looking around more hesitantly, looking for comfort in the care given by his mother and his aunts. Even though Clara was two years younger, she would make their decisions when they were together and he was happy enough to stand by them, without making any fuss.

She was organising their games.

-You are the daddy now and you are riding home on your horse, I make the dinner. This is my garden and you come and see me......-

Antonino followed the instructions, happy to enjoy her company without arguing. He was physically smaller than his sister, he had great big dark eyes sometimes a little scared which were looking around eager to get the family’s approval. He was submissive and reserved, he did not raise barriers between his request for affection and the desire of the adults to give it to him. He let them love him without difficulty.

He really worshipped his mother, she felt exactly the same for him. When they were together, Giulia’s eyes, usually rather stern, sparkled with infinite sweetness just for him.

He was never completely at his ease with his father. Although Giovanni was not a grouchy person, he was a little intimidated by his presence and he preferred to run into the women’s arms in the household.

Three years after Clara’s birth, the two twins were born: Agnese and Luciano.

The last months into the pregnancy were the toughest for Giulia: her belly was huge and that was one of the hottest and longest summers of the last years. Her legs were swollen all the time and she found it difficult to move. Ada and Maria tried to get her to rest as much as she could and were secretly happy to take her place, even as a mum. Although Giulia did not complain that much, everyone was concerned about her. Giovanni, especially over the last few days, used to come home mid-morning or during the afternoon to find out how she was. He would find her often lying down on the bed of their bedroom in semi-darkness, propped against two pillows to try and breath more easily.

The day of the delivery, on September 18th, dr Marinucci did not leave her for one second and followed her labour all night with concern.

At ten o’clock in the morning, the twins were finally born: tiny and purple, they were showing the signs of a distressful labour and seemed to be rather frail. The little girl started to cry quite loud and calmed down as soon as she was put to her mother’s breasts, sucking her mother’s milk with unexpected energy. The little boy, on the other hand, would get easily tired and his meals were long and tiring. As soon as it was the right time, the aunts started to make food for him, with milk, sugar and olive oil, in order to complement his diet and get his mother to have a rest, she was exhausted from a breast feeding that would go on for hours.

Once the first few months were over, Agnese turned into a strong and hungry little girl, very similar to her father as far as her strong body was concerned.

Giulia, on her part, after the first days when she was exhausted, was happy to feel free from that burden that would give her little freedom. Despite all the things that had to be done, in a short period of time, she was happy again and rediscovered the happiness to look after the family. The aunts were vital to run the household now. Each of them seemed to have found their role in the inner workings of the family, letting every hidden tension go.

The doctor advised against new pregnancies and there was no more talk of pregnancies between the two spouses.