decided to change around the papers everyone had been given so that families could stay together. There was one family … an important family in our community to whom my father owed … loyalty who had pieces of paper for the Arandora Star.’
‘But the Arandora Star was sailing for Canada,’ Rosie protested. ‘And Grandfather Giovanni is so old, surely—’
‘It was a matter of duty,’ Bella told Rosie fiercely, ‘a matter of honour; Grandfather agreed that my father had no choice. That is what my mother said. We only found out last night that they were to sail. There was a message …’
‘No,’ Rosie repeated. A wave of sickening heat surged over her and then retreated, leaving her feeling icy cold and trembling violently. She desperately wanted to sit down. But how could she give in to her weakness when Bella was standing there looking so in control of herself? ‘Maybe they weren’t on the Arandora Star? I’ve heard that there is another ship sailing tomorrow. Maybe—’
‘No. We know they sailed on the Arandora Star.’
‘There will be survivors,’ Rosie told her eagerly. ‘Maybe—’
‘My grandfather can’t swim; he is old; they were put in the very bottom of the ship. This is what we know and what we have been told. The German sailors, they will have survived, but not our men.’
‘You can’t know that,’ Rosie protested. ‘Bella, you mustn’t give up hope. Not yet.’
‘Who are you to tell us not to give up hope?’ Bella rounded on her bitterly. ‘We should not need to have hope. Our men should not have been taken away and imprisoned. They should not have been sent to Canada. I will never forget what your country has done to us, Rosie, and I will never forgive it. My mother is right – you are all our enemies.’
‘Bella, that isn’t true.’ Rosie was trembling with the force of her emotions.
‘Isn’t it? Ask your father what he thinks of us, Rosie; ask those men who rioted against us and destroyed our homes. Go and ask them if they are our friends.’
‘My father wouldn’t have wanted this. He’s a sailor. No sailor would ever want something like this to happen.’ She knew that that was true, but she also knew that Bella was right and that her father had never really understood her mother’s friendship with the Grenellis.
Bella gave a small uncaring shrug. ‘It doesn’t matter much any more. We are leaving Liverpool as soon as it can be arranged. We have relatives in Manchester who will take us in, for how are we to earn a living now when there is no sugar for us to make ice cream and no men to sell it? You’d better go,’ she added coolly. ‘My mother will be coming downstairs in a minute and if she knows that you are here she won’t be pleased.’
Rosie wasn’t quite sure how she managed to get home. She certainly couldn’t remember walking there. She stood in the middle of the shabby parlour and told her mother emotionally, ‘I’ve just seen Bella. They were on board, all three of them – her father, Grandfather Giovanni and Aldo.’ And then her whole body was shaking, racked by the sobs that seemed to be being torn away from her heart itself.
‘Stop that.’
The sharp slap her mother gave her shocked her into a stunned silence. Her cheek burned. Slowly she lifted her hand to touch it.
Her mother’s eyes were glittering with anger, her own face burning almost as bright a red as Rosie’s cheek.
‘You must have misunderstood what Bella was saying. Mind you, she’s as much of a drama queen as that ruddy mother of hers. Their men couldn’t have been on board. I spoke to Aldo meself on Saturday night. He told me then that they was going to the Isle of Man.’
‘You spoke to Aldo? But that’s impossible. You couldn’t have done. No one was allowed to talk to the men.’
‘Well, I did. And don’t go looking at me like that. It’s the truth. Like I’ve already told you, there’s always ways and means, Rosie, if you know how to go about things and you know the right people. Bella’s got it wrong. Aldo was full of it, and that relieved …’
‘Bella said that they’d changed places with someone,’ Rosie stopped her mother quietly.
Between one breath and another Rosie saw her mother’s expression change, and the colour leave her face, only to rush back into it to burn in two bright spots on her cheeks.
‘The stupid bastard,’ she breathed. ‘The stupid, stupid bastard. I warned him not to …’ Suddenly it was her mother who was shaking from head to foot. She dropped down into a chair and leaned her elbows on the table, holding her head in her hands.
‘Mum …’ Rosie begged her uncertainly. She was upset – devastated – but her mother was inconsolable.
‘It’s that ruddy Carlo – he’s the one who’s responsible for this.’ It was as though she was talking to herself. ‘He’s the one who dragged Aldo into that Fascist lot on account of Sofia nagging at him. She’s the one who’s to blame for them all being drowned … She might as well have murdered them with her bare hands.’
Had the news somehow affected her mother’s brain? How was it possible for her to know so much?
‘We don’t know what … what’s happened yet, Mum. They might still be alive …’
Her mother was giving her the same look that Bella had given her when she had said that to her.
‘No, they won’t be alive,’ she told Rosie bitterly. ‘I need a drink.’
‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ Rosie offered.
‘Not that kind of drink. A proper drink. There’s a bottle of gin in the sideboard – go and get it for us.’
‘Mum, I don’t think—’
‘All right, don’t get it, I’ll go and get it meself,’ she glowered.
‘I don’t understand,’ Rosie protested. ‘Why did they change places with these other people, and why did you say it was Sofia’s fault? They aren’t Fascists.’
‘Aldo certainly wasn’t. Sofia’s had it in for Aldo for a long time – well, I hope she’s happy now with what she’s gone and done.’
‘I don’t understand,’ Rosie repeated.
‘No, you don’t understand, Rosie, and that’s the ruddy truth.’
It was another week before they knew for sure that the Grenelli men were indeed amongst those missing, presumed drowned. And not once in that week had the Grenellis’ door opened to Rosie’s knock, even though she had gone round every day hoping to be allowed to share their grief. Rosie went with her mother to the service that was being held at Holy Cross in memory of those who had died, both of them dressed in their most sombre clothes.
The church was packed full, and it was almost impossible to hear the voice of the priest because of the noise of women crying, Rosie and her mother included. And then during the prayers one woman screamed so loudly in her despair that Rosie thought she herself was going to faint from her pain. The grief they were all feeling couldn’t be contained. It spilled over and filled the church as the mourners gave themselves over to it.
All Rosie could think about was how the Grenellis must be feeling and how much she wished she had been allowed to share this dreadful time with them. All week she had hoped that today of all days they would relent and accept that although she and her mother were not Italian, they shared their sense of loss and bewilderment. But the church was so packed that it was impossible to find anyone particular amongst the huge crowd. Many of the widows and children of the men who had lost their lives were given seats at the front of the church, but although Rosie craned her neck to see if the Grenellis were amongst them, she couldn’t find their familiar faces.
The grief of the mourners brought home