Annie Groves - Some Sunny Day

THREE

In the end Rosie’s need to be with her friends compelled her to take the short cut home, almost running there despite the city’s evening heat.

There was no sign of broken glass any more but the boarded-up windows and doors were a chilling reminder of what had happened.

She was halfway down Gerard Street when one of the neighbours called through her open door, ‘If you’re on your way to the Grenellis’, Rosie, there’s bin no news yet.’

‘But surely the men must be home by now,’ Rosie protested, shielding her face from the evening sun as she looked up to the narrow balcony where the young woman was standing, her baby on her hip.

The other woman shook her head. ‘I’ve heard as how they’re not letting any of them go until they’re sure that they aren’t Fascists. Daft, I call it. All the ruddy government needs to do is to come down here and ask around to find out what they want to know, not go locking up decent men. I heard this afternoon as how Bella’s ma has teken it real badly, screaming and yelling and sayin’ as ’ow she were going to end up wi’out her father and her hubbie, on account of the government as good as murderin’ them. Maria were down at the church asking if the priest would come up and see her, so Fran Gonnelli two down from me, were sayin’.’

Like Rosie, Doreen Halliwell was not Italian, and Rosie guessed that she was more interested in gossiping about what had happened than offering any helpful information, so she didn’t want to linger in the street. Besides, her comments about Maria going down to Holy Cross church had made Rosie even more anxious to get to the Grenellis’ house and find out what was happening.

Fortunately the baby started to cry, giving her the excuse to hurry on her way.

Bella opened the door to her brief knock. Her olive skin had lost its normal warmth, leaving her looking sallow, her brown eyes shimmering with tears as the two girls embraced one another before Bella drew her inside.

‘Are they back?’ Rosie began, even before she had closed the door, desperate to be reassured that all was well.

But Bella was already shaking her head, telling her brokenly, ‘No! There is no news, good or otherwise, Rosie. I wish that there was.’ Her eyes, already red-rimmed from crying, swam with fresh tears. ‘All we do know is that all the men who were rounded up last night have been taken to the North Western Hotel on Lime Street for questioning, and that we aren’t allowed to see them or speak with them. Aunt Maria has been down to the police station with food for them and clean clothes, but even though the police were sympathetic, they said there was nothing they could do to help, not with Mr Churchill himself having issued a general internment order against all Italian men aged between sixteen and seventy. They were saying at Podestra’s that even the Italian Consul in Liverpool has been taken.’ Her voice dropped. ‘My mother is taking it very badly. You know that she’s always wanted the family to go back home.’

Rosie nodded. Over the years there had been many passionate discussions around the Grenelli kitchen table about this subject, with Sofia saying how much she would like to go back to the village she had left as a small baby. Rosie could remember them quite clearly and she could remember too how much they had scared her and how much she had worried about the Grenellis going back to Italy and leaving her behind in Liverpool, pining for them. She had loved the whole family so much she had not been able to bear the thought of them not being there. As she grew older, every time the subject of ‘going home’ was discussed, Rosie had tried hard not to think selfishly of her own feelings but to recognise instead how hard it must be for the older generation of Italians, who had come to Liverpool genuinely believing that their absence from their homeland would only be temporary, and that once they had made enough money they would be able to return home to retire. Now, in view of what was happening, Rosie could understand why Sofia wished they had left.

‘Aunt Maria is worried that she will be reported to the authorities, and she has begged her not to say any more. I hadn’t realised myself until now how strong my mother’s convictions are, or that she and my father …’ Bella chewed worriedly on her bottom lip. ‘Rosie, you must promise me not to say anything to anyone about what I have just said.’

Was Bella saying that her parents were Fascists? Rosie didn’t know very much about Italian politics other than what she had heard in the Grenelli kitchen, but she could see how shocked and fearful Bella was and so she nodded vigorously and gave her promise. It was ridiculous that anyone could think that men like Giovanni and Carlo could be mixed up in something dangerous and illegal.

‘Father Doyle has been round this afternoon,’ Bella added, ‘to see la Nonna and my mother …’

‘Doreen Halliwell was on her balcony as I came down Gerard Street and she told me that Maria had been to fetch him. Did he manage to …’ The girls were exchanging whispers in the scullery, and Rosie tugged on Bella’s sleeve, not wanting to go into the kitchen and join the others until she knew everything there was to know.

Bella shook her head dispiritedly. ‘Mamma won’t listen to anyone. Like I said, she is taking it very badly, Rosie. I have never seen her like this before. One minute she’s furiously angry, and the next she just won’t speak at all. Then she says that we will never see our men again and that they are as good as dead, and that without them we might as well all be dead.’

Rosie shivered as she heard the fear in her friend’s voice. Somehow she had expected that it would be gentle tender-hearted Maria who would be the one to suffer the most, not her more fiery sister, but as though she sensed what Rosie was thinking, Bella offered sadly, ‘My mother has always been devoted to Grandfather Giovanni, and him to her. Aunt Maria says it is because she is so like his own mother. She cannot bear the thought of him suffering in any kind of way, and she is distraught that this has happened to him. Even Father Doyle was unable to comfort her. She has spent all afternoon on her knees praying that they will be set free and allowed to return home, but Father Doyle says that the British Government will not free any of the men until they are sure that they have combed out those amongst them that are true Fascists. He has asked permission to visit them, but he has been told that at the moment that is not possible. But with our consul taken along with the others, there is no one to speak to the authorities on their behalf.’

Bella’s revelations left Rosie too shocked to make any response for a few moments. ‘But surely the authorities must know which men they truly suspect of working against our country,’ she protested when she had recovered herself.

‘You would have thought so,’ Bella agreed, ‘but according to Father Doyle there is a great deal of confusion caused by so many of our men socialising with one another and being unwittingly drawn into the Fascist organisation, although they are not Fascists in any way. It does not help that so many of the older men do not speak English very well, and have been saying how much they want to return to Italy, like my mother. It is only pride that makes them say such things and our own local police understand that, but Constable Black is concerned that the government may not understand this. And, of course, there are those who resent us and who are glad to see this dreadful thing happen to us,’ Bella added. ‘Let’s go into the parlour. Aunt Maria and la Nonna will be glad to see you.’

Bella did not say that her own mother would be glad to see her, Rosie noted, but she was too fond of her friend to say anything.