Love & Madness
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PART ONE
CHAPTER ONE 1975 ‘Sofia,’ a little concern seeped into Sister Margareta’s voice. ‘Are you sure you want to be doing this? It’s such a beautiful day,’ she pointed to the heavens. ‘Shouldn’t you be outside doing something more appropriate to your age?’ Sofia smiled. ‘But I love marking the little ones’ books,’ she held the basket up, where about twenty exercise books sat in a neat pile. ‘And I am so thankful that you find the time to help me. I am inundated with all these problems... Mother Superior is under immense pressure. We are not doing as well as we should, and there is even talk of possible closure.’ Sofia’s brown eyes widened in surprise. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry to hear it, I didn’t realise.’ ‘Well,’ Sister Margareta gave her a reassuring smile. ‘Whatever happens, it will only be by year’s end as we are committed to all our girls until then. So, at least you will be able to finish your school career in peace.’ ‘I thank you for that.’ Sofia gazed at the high convent walls where a creeper tumbled indolently over the thick wall, the cobbled path she had walked thousands of times wound gently round the bend, and the cypress trees stood guard. She felt sad at the possibility that it could all simply end. ‘You know, it is true,’ Sister Margareta continued. ‘When doors close in one place others open elsewhere.’ Reaching the gate, she swung its wide mouth open and with a caress, let her hand run along its weather-beaten wood and metal studs. |
‘I had a good time here,’ Sofia sighed. ‘And I always thought that after I qualified I would teach here.’
‘Yes, that was something I was also looking forward to. But those children who will eventually get you have no idea what a blessing you will be to them.’
Sofia dropped her gaze shyly. ‘Thank you Sister Margareta, you have always been encouraging.’
‘I still think you should be swimming or doing something fun,’ Sister Margareta pointed to the basket.
‘This is fun.’ A gorgeous smile spread across Sofia’s face. ‘And it’s hardly hard work.’
‘Okay then, go enjoy your afternoon.’ Sister Margareta held the gate open. ‘And don’t forget to write all those positive little messages. The children love it when you mark their books.’ She laughed. ‘And they are all doing better in English because they want to impress you so hard.’
‘That is sweet.’ Sofia lifted a hand in greeting. ‘Goodbye Sister Margareta, see you tomorrow.’
Turning left, Sofia stopped then walked to the end of the block. Unexpectedly, a boy on a bicycle flipped around the corner, clearly out of control. She screamed, he screamed, and his three friends, all on bicycles, screamed. She threw herself against the wall, dropping everything she was carrying, and within seconds, the exhibitionists disappeared. She sat there a moment, a hand on her chest, feeling her pounding heart. About to get to her feet, she saw a hand outstretched to her.
Glancing up, she recognised the young man she had noticed a couple of times during the last few months in the park across the convent.
‘Are you all right?’ Pulling her to her feet, he gave her a quick appraisal. She was almost certainly from one of the Mediterranean countries. Not what one would call exotic but pretty, with beautiful dark hair and kind brown eyes.
‘Friends of yours?’
‘No, just school kids. Robert Thomas Powell.’ He liked to say his entire name when introducing himself. It made him feel important to carry his two grandfathers’ names.
She watched the blue gaze intently, light hair blowing in the wind, and a nice smile. She placed her hand in his. ‘Sofia Andriotti.’
‘Pleased to meet you,’ he quickly gathered the pile of exercise books into the basket again, grabbed her discarded school bag, and handed them to her. Then sauntering across the street, he got onto his motorcycle and rode away.
Robert leaned against the tree, stretched his lithe legs over the motorcycle seat, and gazed upward. Gnarled branches swayed and nodded in the breeze, revealing intricate web-like patterns against the pale blue sky, as if it were a living puzzle. Quite possibly, this was the last season the oak would stand here. Ancient and decayed, exposed roots gave it a crab-like appearance. Feeling pity for the wasted giant, he pulled a drawing pad from the saddlebag and captured some of its last moments of glory.
A noise across the street interrupted his concentration. Amused, he watched as the same four boys arrived. Five minutes later, the convent’s metal-studded gate swung open, pouring out dozens of schoolgirls. Seeing the boys, they did what girls do to valiant heroes, pretend to ignore them. Robert smiled, understanding the game rules well.
Laughter and giggling floated towards him as some threw him furtive glances. Over the months he had been coming here, a few had been bold enough to start conversations but he had quickly and politely let them know that he had neither the time nor the inclination to support teenage fantasies. As the street became vacant, the boys started spinning and flipping again.
Hearing the gate swing its wide mouth almost shut, Robert glimpsed Sofia slip through the gap and grinned when the boys disappeared at the sight of her. Beyond sight, a woman’s voice said something and both laughed, then, closing the gate, she went about her duties behind its comforting protection. He watched Sofia with interest. Every day, she did exactly the same thing. She stood there a moment, as if she went through her walk home plan mentally, before she tackled it physically.
‘Sofia,’ He greeted days later, as he turned the corner on foot.
‘Hello. Where’s your bike?’ She tried to balance a pile of books under one arm.
‘Hopefully still in the park. May I carry some of those?’
She gave him part of the load.
‘Where’s your basket?’
‘Sister Margareta needed it for something.’ She dismissed with a hand. ‘Robert, right?’
He nodded and fell into step beside her. ‘I’ve never seen you walk home with friends, don’t you have any?’
‘I stay behind to help Sister Margareta. She says it’s part of my training.’
‘Don’t tell me...’
A hint of a smile crossed her lips. ‘I want to be a teacher.’
He sighed visibly. ‘I thought you were about to say nun.’
‘Strangely,’ she told him conspiratorially. ’It never crossed my mind.’
They chatted about nothing in particular and he noticed that she was curious and smart.
‘Do you have brothers or sisters?’ She asked.
‘Two younger brothers, and you?’
‘I have one older brother, Andrea. He and his wife Sarah live in England. But right now,’ she told him brightly. ‘I want to hear about yours.’
‘Charles,’ Robert took a deep breath. ‘There’s a crazy for you. Will try anything at least once and is afraid of absolutely nothing. Before mom died she used to say that he would be the death of her.’
‘I’m sorry.’ She commiserated and placed a finger on his arm.
It felt as if a ladybird had made a pit stop. ‘One gets used to it.’
‘So, was Charles the death of her?’
‘No, she had cancer. Now William... William is a sensitive boy and tragedies affect him deeply; maybe because he lost her so young. He is also very talented, an exquisite poet.’
‘I live here.’
Glancing at the freshly painted house and manicured garden, Robert nodded approval.
‘After helping me carry these books I feel awful that I can’t invite you in, papa’s rules.’ She told him apologetically.
‘Not to worry, my lady.’ He bowed.
She giggled. ‘Thank you, Robert.’
‘Have a nice day and I’ll see you tomorrow.’ Waiting until she was in the house, he returned to the park.
Buy Here.
‘Yes, that was something I was also looking forward to. But those children who will eventually get you have no idea what a blessing you will be to them.’
Sofia dropped her gaze shyly. ‘Thank you Sister Margareta, you have always been encouraging.’
‘I still think you should be swimming or doing something fun,’ Sister Margareta pointed to the basket.
‘This is fun.’ A gorgeous smile spread across Sofia’s face. ‘And it’s hardly hard work.’
‘Okay then, go enjoy your afternoon.’ Sister Margareta held the gate open. ‘And don’t forget to write all those positive little messages. The children love it when you mark their books.’ She laughed. ‘And they are all doing better in English because they want to impress you so hard.’
‘That is sweet.’ Sofia lifted a hand in greeting. ‘Goodbye Sister Margareta, see you tomorrow.’
Turning left, Sofia stopped then walked to the end of the block. Unexpectedly, a boy on a bicycle flipped around the corner, clearly out of control. She screamed, he screamed, and his three friends, all on bicycles, screamed. She threw herself against the wall, dropping everything she was carrying, and within seconds, the exhibitionists disappeared. She sat there a moment, a hand on her chest, feeling her pounding heart. About to get to her feet, she saw a hand outstretched to her.
Glancing up, she recognised the young man she had noticed a couple of times during the last few months in the park across the convent.
‘Are you all right?’ Pulling her to her feet, he gave her a quick appraisal. She was almost certainly from one of the Mediterranean countries. Not what one would call exotic but pretty, with beautiful dark hair and kind brown eyes.
‘Friends of yours?’
‘No, just school kids. Robert Thomas Powell.’ He liked to say his entire name when introducing himself. It made him feel important to carry his two grandfathers’ names.
She watched the blue gaze intently, light hair blowing in the wind, and a nice smile. She placed her hand in his. ‘Sofia Andriotti.’
‘Pleased to meet you,’ he quickly gathered the pile of exercise books into the basket again, grabbed her discarded school bag, and handed them to her. Then sauntering across the street, he got onto his motorcycle and rode away.
Robert leaned against the tree, stretched his lithe legs over the motorcycle seat, and gazed upward. Gnarled branches swayed and nodded in the breeze, revealing intricate web-like patterns against the pale blue sky, as if it were a living puzzle. Quite possibly, this was the last season the oak would stand here. Ancient and decayed, exposed roots gave it a crab-like appearance. Feeling pity for the wasted giant, he pulled a drawing pad from the saddlebag and captured some of its last moments of glory.
A noise across the street interrupted his concentration. Amused, he watched as the same four boys arrived. Five minutes later, the convent’s metal-studded gate swung open, pouring out dozens of schoolgirls. Seeing the boys, they did what girls do to valiant heroes, pretend to ignore them. Robert smiled, understanding the game rules well.
Laughter and giggling floated towards him as some threw him furtive glances. Over the months he had been coming here, a few had been bold enough to start conversations but he had quickly and politely let them know that he had neither the time nor the inclination to support teenage fantasies. As the street became vacant, the boys started spinning and flipping again.
Hearing the gate swing its wide mouth almost shut, Robert glimpsed Sofia slip through the gap and grinned when the boys disappeared at the sight of her. Beyond sight, a woman’s voice said something and both laughed, then, closing the gate, she went about her duties behind its comforting protection. He watched Sofia with interest. Every day, she did exactly the same thing. She stood there a moment, as if she went through her walk home plan mentally, before she tackled it physically.
‘Sofia,’ He greeted days later, as he turned the corner on foot.
‘Hello. Where’s your bike?’ She tried to balance a pile of books under one arm.
‘Hopefully still in the park. May I carry some of those?’
She gave him part of the load.
‘Where’s your basket?’
‘Sister Margareta needed it for something.’ She dismissed with a hand. ‘Robert, right?’
He nodded and fell into step beside her. ‘I’ve never seen you walk home with friends, don’t you have any?’
‘I stay behind to help Sister Margareta. She says it’s part of my training.’
‘Don’t tell me...’
A hint of a smile crossed her lips. ‘I want to be a teacher.’
He sighed visibly. ‘I thought you were about to say nun.’
‘Strangely,’ she told him conspiratorially. ’It never crossed my mind.’
They chatted about nothing in particular and he noticed that she was curious and smart.
‘Do you have brothers or sisters?’ She asked.
‘Two younger brothers, and you?’
‘I have one older brother, Andrea. He and his wife Sarah live in England. But right now,’ she told him brightly. ‘I want to hear about yours.’
‘Charles,’ Robert took a deep breath. ‘There’s a crazy for you. Will try anything at least once and is afraid of absolutely nothing. Before mom died she used to say that he would be the death of her.’
‘I’m sorry.’ She commiserated and placed a finger on his arm.
It felt as if a ladybird had made a pit stop. ‘One gets used to it.’
‘So, was Charles the death of her?’
‘No, she had cancer. Now William... William is a sensitive boy and tragedies affect him deeply; maybe because he lost her so young. He is also very talented, an exquisite poet.’
‘I live here.’
Glancing at the freshly painted house and manicured garden, Robert nodded approval.
‘After helping me carry these books I feel awful that I can’t invite you in, papa’s rules.’ She told him apologetically.
‘Not to worry, my lady.’ He bowed.
She giggled. ‘Thank you, Robert.’
‘Have a nice day and I’ll see you tomorrow.’ Waiting until she was in the house, he returned to the park.
Buy Here.
