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Author Topic: The Inheritance: Chapter 5 - Part II (Updated 11/14)  (Read 48026 times)
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CuriousSimmer
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« on: June 23, 2008, 01:25:25 am »

The Inheritance
Chapter One
May 1945



I didn't cry when the mail-carrier handed me the telegram. I hadn't seen or heard from my husband Roger since his last leave, two months before. It was a surprise, to be sure, but the place in my heart that once belonged to Roger had been cold and empty for a long time.


I didn't bother to change out of my clothes from the factory where I worked and set the telegram down on a table in the hall. I thought back on my life with Roger and I simply couldn't gather the heartfelt tears of a widow.


I was born in 1922 in California. I went out with Roger in high school. He was a wonderful boy back then--handsome, athletic, and charming. We married in 1941, the week after Pearl Harbor and the day before he enlisted. He returned on leave a few times, but each time our relationship seemed a little worse. He had changed, or maybe I had. Our relationship had become perfunctory; there was no love, no affection in our actions. But like the other women in my generation, I knew my place and I knew the alternatives. So I stayed.

When I laid down for bed that night, in a bed that had barely ever seen Roger, the empty space next to me seemed to go on forever. And then something strange happened. For the first time since I first married Roger, I felt so empty and alone that the pain was physical. And I wept.


Two Weeks Later


As I climbed out of the car, I knew I was out of my mind. "She needs something to take her mind off the grief," said my mother. She and my Aunts, Angela, Maria, and Marta decided I should return to the family villa outside of Florence, Italy. "After all, the war is over, it's completely safe!" And so I took the voyage across and found the villa.


The place was a wreck! The columns that held up the balcony and roof were broken; the windows were shuttered or broken open; the door was hanging off its hinges. Whoever was responsible for the upkeep of the yard had failed miserably. Instead of grass there was dirt; the trees were dead and dried up.


I glanced at my watch as the rain began to fall. The guide and 'caretaker' of the villa was late. My mother had warned me that in the "old country", people had a flexible relationship with time. I thought of returning to the car, but the nauseating scent of the leather seats told me I should stay in the rain.

Finally, a pair of headlights appeared down the road, and after a few minutes a car pulled up into the driveway. The driver's door opened and someone stepped out. And suddenly, I was happy to be standing outside a trashed villa in the pouring rain...


To be continued!
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Astral Faery
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« Reply #1 on: June 23, 2008, 03:30:23 pm »

Great writing!  Interesting and different time setting, too.  I really like this so far, and hope you plan on continuing.
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CuriousSimmer
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« Reply #2 on: June 23, 2008, 09:30:45 pm »

Thank you for the encouragement! Your wish is granted with...

The Inheritance
Chapter One - Part II
June 1945



He was like an ancient Roman statue cut from warm, tan marble. Although his hair was disheveled from the wind and rain, I could tell he was remarkably handsome. My irritation at his lateness dissolved as he waved me over. He pushed the broken door out of the way and helped me over a puddle and into the foyer of the house. As he set the door back in the frame, I set Roger's ashes on a small table off to the side; I would find an appropriate place for him later.

"I am Durante Moretti, Signora Weelyums, the caretaker of your villa. Please, allow me to give you the grand tour."

I agreed, but judging from the state of the foyer...



"Apologies, Signora, but the stairs were destroyed during a fire here in the last days of the war. I had not been able to replace them yet."

...the tour would be less than grand.



"I'm replacing the wallpapering in here, Signora," said Durante, explaining the exposed walls of the hall. A weathered set of arches separated the kitchen/dining area, which reeked of mildew.

"The roof leaked for awhile," said Durante by way of explaining the mold growing on the floors and counters.

"But not anymore?" I said, glancing around the kitchen. A chipped wooden table and chairs had been set up, looking unsound and uncomfortable.

"No, Signora. I fixed it when I returned. And over here is the living room..."



"Oh!" He stopped so short that I nearly ran into him. "Is this yours? It wasn't here when I left yesterday." He gestured to the urn on the table.

"Yes," I said. "That's my husband, Roger. He was killed in the war."

"I see," said Durante, studiously avoiding my gaze as he pointed out the features of the room.



There was a worn sofa and two ratty armchairs, an ancient lamp whose glass looked like it hadn't been cleaned since the Napoleonic era. A weathered bar sat in the corner near a warped billiards table whose felt was ripped.

"Charming," I said through gritted teeth; this was not what I had expected, not what I had seen in the family photo albums. But like the rest of Europe, the war had taken a toll on my family's villa. "And...upstairs?" I asked, rolling my eyes skyward, to the chipped, flaking ceiling.



"An office on the left, Signora," said Durante. "Most of the furniture was destroyed when the Allies captured the villa; this was what was left here."

I ran my hand over the rough-hewn surface of the desk. It wasn't much, but it would hold my typewriter. And there were more than a dozen books on the bookshelves that were improvised from concrete blocks and planks of wood.

Across the second floor foyer was a bedroom without a bed. Durante said that the bed had been badly damaged during the Allied occupation of the villa, along with the dresser and bedside table.

"Is there a telephone?"

"Why of course, Signora. It is only a fifteen minute drive to town--" Durante said.

"There's no--my God, how do you--" I bit my lip before I could make a fool of myself, then offered him an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. Shall we sit in the living room for a few minutes and discuss the reconstruction?"

"Of course."

"But first, where's the powder room?"

Durante pointed out the bedroom window towards the back yard. I walked over and peered out.



"Oh dear God..."


We settled in the sitting room, where we agreed that certain renovations must be made, not least of which to wire the house with electricity and indoor bathrooms!

"I apologize for the state of the villa, Signora. I was part of the resistance here in Italy during the war; if I had known someone would finally return, I would have--"



"Been killed by the Allies if you tried to stop them thrashing the place," I said, trying to sound kind. It really was not his fault that the place was in this condition. Or maybe he was just too handsome and earnest to blame.


"Are you feeling all right, Signora?" Durante's words pulled me from my reverie. "You're looking quite pale."

"I'm fine," I said. This wasn't particularly true; I was feeling a little nauseas and tired. "Just a little unsteady on my feet after all that time at sea coming over. Thank you for asking, Mr. Moretti."

"Please," said Durante. "Call me Dante. All my friends do."

I smiled and nodded. I had the feeling that Dante Moretti and I would be good friends. And a part of me hoped that we could become more than just friends. But it never occurred to me...



...that God and my husband had other plans.

To be continued...
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Astral Faery
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« Reply #3 on: June 23, 2008, 11:57:12 pm »

Ooh - lovely cliffhanger!  I forgot to mention in my previous post how much I liked your pictures - particularly the two in the first chapter when she receives the letter.  I love the shot of her facing away from the camera with the letter on the table, and the next one, of her from the front with her eyes closed.  Very pretty.

Dante is a cutie!  Great shots of the rundown house, and outhouse!  Nice job so far!
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CuriousSimmer
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« Reply #4 on: June 24, 2008, 06:33:52 pm »

I hope you're all enjoying the story so far. But I couldn't resist adding some intrigue and strife, so without further ado I present...

The Inheritance
Chapter One - Part III
June-July 1945


I knew from the first morning at the villa. A woman just knows these things. I was sick several times over the next few weeks, but nothing stood in the way of Dante and I refurbishing the villa. And as we did, we learned more about each other and our friendship blossomed.


I came home from the market the first Saturday I was there to find Dante in the hall. In the two hours I had spent at the market, he had covered half the hall in the wood paneling we chose.

"Dante, it's so beautiful," I exclaimed, brushing the hair over my shoulder happily. For the first time, I felt like I might actually be able to enjoy my stay here.



Later, over dinner, he laid out his ambition for the kitchen and living room. We talked about our pasts. I told him about my work in the factories back home during the war. He thrilled me with tales of his adventures in the Italian resistance and sheltering Jews from the fascists.


The next week, as we finished the tile work in the kitchen, he told me of his father's death at the hands of Mussolini's blackshirts, and I shared the story of Roger and my tumultuous romance, climaxing just after Pearl Harbor in a hasty and ill-advised wedding.


Two weeks later, we were putting the finishing touches on the living room walls, when he shared his dream of a house in the country, a loving wife and as many children as they could handle. I told him about my dream to be a writer and described my first (and worst) finished novel to him.


A week after that, he dropped by to tell me he couldn't work until the afternoon; he had to take his mother, Maria, to the doctor's office in town. He apologized profusely; I could tell he was uncomfortable about letting me down. I took his hands and told him that it was fine, that family came first.

He smiled, released my hands, and turned to go before turning back, almost as if on an impulse. He kissed me, stroking my cheek lightly with his calloused hands.

"I...I have to go. I'll be back this afternoon," he said, and before I could respond, he was climbing into his car. I stood in the pouring rain and watched him drive away and wondered if he would be coming back.

And then I decided that, if he did come back, I would have to stop hiding the truth and just tell him.


That Afternoon

Having changed out of my wet clothes, I heard a car rattle to a halt in the drive and went to the kitchen window. Dante was getting the mail for me; he did that when the yard was muddy. I left the window as he came up the drive and opened the door. I stood in the doorway to the kitchen as he greeted me without looking up from the envelope he was reading.

"It looks like you're in for a real treat," he said lightheartedly. "The Thornycrofts are back in the country and it looks like they've invited you to tea. It'll be...interesting. They're quite the characters, really strange somet--" his voice dropped off as he turned to face me, and his jaw dropped.



"Wh-what?" he asked, staring at me.

I could only offer an embarrassed smile. "I'm sorry, Dante. I should have told you before. I mean...after the way we've become fr-friends," I said, wondering whether that word was still descriptive of our relationship.


He said nothing; I don't think he could have if he wanted to. I could read shock on his face, but was there something else? Did he think I had betrayed him? After all, until then...


...I'd been hiding a big secret.
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CuriousSimmer
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« Reply #5 on: June 24, 2008, 07:07:00 pm »

Time to introduce some new characters for Dante and Elizabeth to interact with!

The Inheritance
Chapter One - Part IV
July 1945


As Dante was discovering my secret, not far from my family's villa, another secret was being covered up...


"I hate it here, Mummy," said Grant Thornycroft. "I don't see why we need to come every summer, not when all my friends go to Scotland for summer."

"Smile, dear," was Lady Esther Thornycroft's response. "Your father loved this house and had deep connections with Italy. Can you imagine what he'd say if he heard you say you hate it?"

Grant, Lord Thornycroft for less than a year, muttered, "No, but I can imagine what he'd say if he heard you talk so admirably of the fascists."

"Watch your mouth," Esther said through her smile as she watched the porters bring their bags in. "I'd just as soon send you back to Scotland, but I need someone to look after--"

"Be quiet, mother, someone might hear."



"Yes," said Esther, more to herself than to her son. "Richard loved this house and this country. He would have wanted us all to come out and remember the happy times. After all, all the best families have houses on the Continent."

They went up into the house and Esther to her bedroom.



Grant entered the bedroom just as Esther was sliding the secret bookcase door shut. "Is everything all right, mother?" he asked, glancing skyward.

Esther shrugged, her own mind's eye wandering through the secret passage...



...up the ladder and through the door marked 'danger, electrical room...


...and into the secret compartment. Back in the bedroom, Esther began unpacking her suitcases. "I hate this situation, but you know we don't have any other choice."


In the secret attic room, a frightened woman could hear raised voices, then  outright shouting from beneath her. A trembling hand wrote across her diary page: "I've escaped."
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SimKween
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« Reply #6 on: June 28, 2008, 10:37:00 pm »

The suspense!
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Baby_Cat
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« Reply #7 on: July 02, 2008, 08:50:27 pm »

oooooo good story so far, can't wait to read more :-)
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Time passes. Even when it seems impossible. Even when each tick of the second hand aches like the pulse of blood behind a bruise. It passes unevenly, in strange lurches and dragging lulls, but pass it does. Even for me. - Bella Swan, New Moon
steelguy
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« Reply #8 on: July 02, 2008, 09:42:56 pm »

Oooh! It's getting... interesting...
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chanclor
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« Reply #9 on: July 03, 2008, 11:30:03 am »

Whoa, this is way good. I can't wait tof rmore, crazy intense..
-waits-
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CuriousSimmer
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« Reply #10 on: July 08, 2008, 12:27:19 am »

Good news and bad news:

The bad news is that my computer, like, died and I can't seem to find the files for this story in the backup I had made 2 weeks ago. The GOOD news, though, is that I'm rebuilding it all, plus I have more entertaining (I hope) stories for all of you on the burners.

Thanks for your encouragement and I'll hope to get another installment up shortly.
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steelguy
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« Reply #11 on: July 08, 2008, 02:03:59 am »

Okay, if I had a dollar for every story I started reading that suffered a computer crash... I'd have... a few dollars. Smiley

Hope you can get it all back together.
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Mizz
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« Reply #12 on: July 08, 2008, 11:41:12 pm »

I like it so far. The plot is interesting... I can't wait to see where it may go.
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:help: The Fear- Part Two
Part two is now up for those of you who wish to read. If you have the time, please do read and possibly even leave feedback. Thank you so much! :worship:
CuriousSimmer
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« Reply #13 on: July 14, 2008, 02:58:51 pm »

The Inheritance
Chapter One - Part V
July 1945


It went better than expected; Dante left that day and didn't come back until the next day. He invited me to his home for lunch with his mother.


Mrs. Moretti was an old woman, Italian to the roots. She reminded me a lot of my aunts who lived in New York: brassy and full of personality.


The look on her face when she saw the bump under my dress was one I remembered from my childhood, when a "scarlet woman" blew through our town in search of work. It was a mix of pity and surprise and a touch of revulsion, but when she welcomed me to her home, her voice was warm and kind.


We had a delicious lunch of pasta, salad, and chicken. She kept serving and serving and serving, telling me that a woman in my condition needed to eat. When finally she either had no food, or could tell that I was completely full, we moved to the living room.


I found that the food must have been a lure. Mrs. Moretti then put the screws to me, to the chagrin of Dante. "You're pregnant," she said.
"Yes, I am."
"Forgive me if I sound blunt, child, but my son has become quite taken with you and he has asked for my advice on this matter. Do you mind?"
"No, Mrs. Moretti."
"Who are you pregnant by?"
"My late husband, Corporal Roger Williams."
"He was killed in the war?"
"Yes."
She stroked her chin and looked at me thoughtfully."You intend to stay in Italy for how long?"
"Indefinitely," I said, which was true. I had no interest in returning to America, not when I had a chance to see where this thing with Dante would go.
"What is it you do?"
"I...well, I write books."
"I see. Nothing trashy, I hope."
"No, not at all."
"Very well, then," said Mrs. Moretti. She nodded at Dante.



The next thing I knew, Dante was kneeling in front of me. He took my hand and looked up at me and said, "Elizabeth, I want to marry you. Will you be my wife?"

Of course, I said yes. I'd made plenty of mistakes in my life, but rejected Dante was one mistake I wasn't going to make.
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CuriousSimmer
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« Reply #14 on: July 14, 2008, 06:58:45 pm »

The Inheritance
Chapter One - Part VI
August 1945



The news of my engagement to Dante spread through the neighborhood, but only inasmuch as "the stranger in the ruined villa is getting married." A week after that day, I was bundled into the car on my way to the Thornycroft Villa for a tea party.


I must have arrived a little late; everyone else who was invited was already there. Dante was right about Lady Thornycroft: she was a character. She was wound a little tight, but she was terribly polite. "Come in, dear, come in. Let me introduce you to everyone. The most exclusive set in the neighborhood, I say!"


"My son, Grant, the current Lord Thornycroft," said Lady Thornycroft. "And I believe you know Signora Moretti? And this is Adela Koenig, she runs that fabulous German bakery in town with her brother. Everyone, this is Mrs. Elizabeth Williams." I sat down near Mrs. Moretti and accepted a cup of tea from Lady Thornycroft.


"Mrs. Williams," said Grant. "Mr. Williams couldn't make it?"
"I'm afraid Mr. Williams is no longer with us," I explained calmly. "He died in the war."
"I'm terribly sorry," said Grant. "So did my sister; she was an auxiliary nurse and she died in the Blitz."
"That's terrible," I said sympathetically, but Lady Thornycroft cut across our conversation.
"That's quite enough, Grant," she said firmly. "Really, there's no need for such unpleasantness. Tell us, Mrs. Williams, how is the renovation of the villa coming?"
"Oh, quite well, thank you. I'm hoping to have a nice little soiree there as soon as it's finished. Of course, you'll all be welcome."
"That sounds lovely," said Lady Thornycroft. "Perhaps you could get Fraulein Koenig here to help with the food; it's simply divine."



"Ja," said Adela. "I vould be quite happy to assist." At that moment, there was a huge crash from the hall. "Mein gott, vot vos that?"


We all rushed out into the hall, but none before Grant Thornycroft. He shoved me aside in his haste, and was followed by Lady Thornycroft. "What's happened?" I asked, rubbing my hip where it had been banged against the doorway.
"Oh, nothing," said Lady Thornycroft. "It's just our maid; poor dear has been having dizzy spells lately. Grant, take her upstairs."
"Are you sure she's all right?" asked Mrs. Moretti. "She should be taken to the hospital."
"No, she'll be fine. Grant, now." The chill in Lady Thornycroft's voice was evident. She began to usher us towards the door as Grant continued to shield the woman from our view.



"Thank you all for coming, I'm so sorry we've had to cut it short, but I really must look after the maid," said Lady Thornycroft. "We really ought to do it again sometime, don't you think?"

As she pushed us out the door, I couldn't help giving once last glance back towards the hall. Grant was carrying a woman with long-brown hair up the staircase. "Goodbye, Lady Thornycroft," I said with a smile. "Thank you so much for having me."

And as I walked towards my car with Mrs. Moretti, I told her, "There's something not right about this place."
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