Sofia's Story, page 1
Sofia's Story
Portraits in Blue, Volume 4
Penny Fields-Schneider
Published by Penny Fields-Schneider, 2022.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
SOFIA'S STORY
First edition. February 28, 2022.
Copyright © 2022 Penny Fields-Schneider.
ISBN: 978-1922747013
Written by Penny Fields-Schneider.
Also by Penny Fields-Schneider
Portraits in Blue
The Sun Rose In Paris
Shattered Dreams
Searching for Sofia
Sofia's Story
Standalone
The Woman Who Painted The Seasons
Watch for more at Penny Fields-Schneider’s site.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Also By Penny Fields-Schneider
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Epilogue: 1961 Melbourne
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Further Reading: The Woman Who Painted The Seasons
Also By Penny Fields-Schneider
About the Author
Chapter 1
PART ONE - ELTHAM, AUSTRALIA
We’re moving today... we’re moving today... we’re moving today! Sofia’s heart beat an excited rhythm as she leaned across the bed, hugged Jack, and kissed him on the back of his neck. Rising, she tiptoed around the cabin on this last morning they would wake at Montsalvat, and she hoped Scotty might stay asleep for a few more minutes.
Sofia had been looking forward to this day for weeks now, but had not expected the sense of elation accompanying each movement: folding her nightie for the last time, placing the kettle on the gas burner for their last day’s early morning cup of tea, peering out the window at the morning sunshine while she waited for the water to boil. Nor for the surge of sweetness she feels when she hears the padding of tiny footsteps and sees Scotty emerge from the bedroom. She smiled and hugged him, making him squeal joyfully.
Finally, they were moving to a home of their own! Tonight she, Jack and Scotty would be in the little cottage in Eltham they’d found to rent.
Sofia considered how pleased her papa and Andres would be to see her with her little family. Her thoughts turned to the second child she and Jack both longed for. Perhaps, away from the stresses of Montsalvat, she would fall pregnant again. But considering she and Jack had waited five years for Scotty to arrive, she knew she must be patient. For some women, squalling babies burst from their wombs with annual regularity, wanted or not. For others, all the longing in the world was met with a monthly crimson flow and heartbreaking disappointment for years on end.
Their new house was barely a mile away from Montsalvat, but that small distance would be sufficient.
Close enough for Helen and Sonia to pop in with the babies they were soon to deliver, and for Sue to visit and share recipes. Over the years, she and Sue had become close as they’d worked together in Montsalvat’s kitchen dividing and conquering the tasks to create weekend banquets to appease the voracious appetites of guests—anywhere from five to twenty-five of the who’s who of Melbourne—that would arrive at Montsalvat without notice.
Sofia sighed. She couldn’t deny she would miss those afternoons in the kitchen, herself in fits of giggles as she diced carrots and shelled peas and listened to Sue swear and curse Justus for his disregard for the residents of the retreat as he generously extended invitations for dinner. Each weekend was the same; at about five pm, the cars would start arriving, and counting them off, Sue’s and Sofia’s skills to extend the stews they cooked would be tested. And far too often, there were so many guests, the Montsalvat residents would have to go without so the visitors could eat. Then, Sue would be really furious.
But the one-mile distance was far enough to escape Justus’ critical gaze and patronising manner. In their new home, she and Jack would be beyond the reach of his cruel tongue and no longer a captive audience to his dinnertime monologues espousing long winded, philosophical diatribes about society, psychology, and art; orations Sofia had once found fascinating, but now saw as obnoxious and condescending.
Of course Sofia knew Jack would visit Justus; he admired the older man—found him inspirational, and certainly, Justus was extraordinary. His vision for the artists’ retreat, his designs for the Gothic-style buildings they’d constructed over the last few years were genius and his intellect was remarkable. The problem was that Sofia spent her days at Montsalvat, and by doing so, she was a first-hand witness to the effects of Justus’ scathing criticisms on her friends: his malicious teasing of Mervyn and the heartless way he dominated Helen, now pregnant with his child.
Most upsetting for Sofia was Justus’ treatment of Lil. The appalling way he had manipulated his wife and the mother of his child—not to mention a significant contributor to financing his dreams—into believing that if she truly loved him she would understand his need to take Helen as his lover. That he expected the two women would coexist on the retreat. Yet in return, he showed little regard for Lil’s needs, nor a husbandly concern for the recurring malady which could render her blind one minute, unable to walk the next. Symptoms Justus described as psychosomatic and attention seeking, hence justifying his callous lack of sympathy.
Sofia knew Justus felt her disdain. Rarely did he speak to her anymore, and for this she was glad. While Jack might want to come back to Montsalvat and visit Justus, she didn’t anticipate returning any more than she had to.
‘Nearly ready, love? Anything you would like me to do?’ Jack’s words broke through Sofia’s reverie. Today, he looked, as excited as Sofia felt and she was glad. She knew it was for her sake that he’d agreed to leave the cabin which had been their home for two years, leave the community they had lived in for nearly four years.
‘No, my sweet husband!’ she replied, raising her arms around his neck and nuzzling into his shoulder the way he liked. In response, he lifted her off the ground.
‘Put me down, put me down.’ At her laughter, Scotty put his hands up, anxious to join the fun.
‘I’ll put you down tonight, don’t you worry,’ Jack whispered mischievously, his eyes twinkling.
Sofia flapped at his shoulder with her tea towel. ‘Off you go! You’ve got boxes to sort!’
She looked at the accumulation of belongings stacked in the middle of the cabin floor. All of their clothing, their linen, most of the kitchen items, Scotty’s toys, and Jack’s paints, brushes, oils and canvases were packed in wooden crates, waiting to be loaded onto Mervyn’s truck.
After delivering them to their new address, Mervyn, Matchum and Jack would return for the furniture: their own bed and Scotty’s little cot and chest of drawers, the larger cupboard used for Jack’s and her clothes, her Spanish chest and the table and chairs they ate their breakfast from. It didn’t seem like much, but with most of their meals prepared and eaten in the community dining room, their weekends spent outdoors and Jack’s weekdays spent at the office in Melbourne, they’d never needed too many belongings.
‘I want to finish cleaning here, and then I will wash the windows. Later, after you have moved the furniture, I’ll mop the floor again.’
‘Sof! You’ve been cleaning these two rooms all week! You’ll be washing the mud off the walls next!’
Cleaning mud off walls might make sense if they lived in the style of home most Australians owned, but the cabin walls, like most of the buildings at Montsalvat, were made of mudbrick.
‘I am not going to have Justus telling everybody I left the place filthy.’
‘He won’t think anything of the sort. Look at the community room, the Great Hall and every other building at Montsalvat. Nobody can keep mud-brick buildings clean. A little dust and dirt is healthy! It’s the Australian way!’ Jack laughed and reached for Sofia, and giggling, she flicked the dusting cloth in her hand toward him, pretending to be irritated.
‘Well, it’s not the Spanish way! Just because we live in a cabin built from mudbrick, it doesn’t mean we can’t be clean.’ Sofia still bristled at the memory of the time she’d laughed when Justus had insisted the kitchen’s floor tiles should be washed in milk. At the time she hadn’t known how sensitive to criticism Justus was and had been shocked when his response had been a scathing comment inferring the Spanish were ignorant and dirty. She shook off the memory; nothing was going to spoil this day.
‘Sonia’s coming over soon. She’s going to take Scotty and Max for a walk while I finish up here. But before I start, I will slip into town and get some Bon Ami and some vinegar for the windows. Perhaps you could get me a couple of buckets of water from the tank?’
‘Would you prefer me to go to town?’
‘No, I’ll enjoy the ride.’ Sofia peered out the window, where a clear blue sky foretold a beautiful winter’s day was ahead of them. A perfect day for moving.
‘Okay, then. If you don’t need me here, I might slip over for a chat with Justus. He’ll be painting at the Great Hall. I don’t want him to feel we are abandoning him by moving into town. You know how sensitive he is when people leave his retreat!’
This time, Sofia’s flash of irritation was no act. It was one thing for Jack to be inspired by Justus, but to hear him sympathise with the mean-spirited older man was more than she could tolerate.
‘Don’t get me started on Justus’ sensitivities, Jack! But yes, go and see him. Mervyn will be back at ten, and then we can load the truck.’
Sofia stewed over Jack’s words. Justus and his sensitivities! Really! The man never cared when he poked and jibed at others, brandishing his words like nasty little swords, cutting and fraying everyone’s nerves while all the while grinning in his smug manner. Sofia would have loved nothing better than to lash out at him, but knew her English, as good as it was after five years of living in Australia, was not up to it. She chuckled, wishing she could let loose at him in Spanish. But if she started, she mightn’t stop! Wouldn’t Jack get a shock to see his sweet little Spanish wife screaming like a banshee at his precious Master?
‘So, I will grab water for you, then?’ Jack’s wry smile made Sofia chuckle. She knew he hated to see her annoyed.
‘Yes, please. Then you can go and appease your Master. Tell him he is still adored by us both, but if he wouldn’t mind, could he refrain from visiting our new house!’
‘Alright, Mrs Tomlinson, if that’s what you want me to say to him, then I will.’ Jack said, chuckling as he dodged the towel Sofia flicked toward him.
Five minutes later, Jack returned and set two buckets of water by the wall. He grinned at Sofia and then reached out for another kiss and squeeze. Some days were like this, she and Jack kissing for the sheer joy of being together, and Sofia knew she was lucky. Some women’s husbands had no interest in their homes or families. For them, life was all about pubs and horse races or football. Other men’s lives were all about work. And then there were men like Justus, egotists who poured all of their time and money into their own interests at the expense of their families.
Happily, Jack was different. Not only did he see it as a duty to care for his family, in the same way his father had, but he loved the time he spent with Scotty and her. She never doubted Jack was most contented when they were all together.
‘Okay... off you go... I need to get to the shop!’ Sofia laughed as, once again, she felt Jack’s arms reaching for her.
Chapter 2
‘Yoo-hoo!’
The call from the front door was typical Sonia. Her sister, Helen, never came to their cabin, and their brother, Matcham, rarely preceded his arrival with a call—he simply knocked and barged in like a large puppy, knowing Sofia would have one of her sugar biscuits for him, or she’d make an omelette or a tortilla at a moment’s notice!
‘¡Hola, Sonia, come in!’
With Sonia, Sofia always felt free to be her Spanish self. Her holas and sis and graciases did not worry Sonia, nor did they worry Matchum or their father, Mervyn, whose gentle manner was so sweet, you could never be upset by him.
Sofia smiled as Sonia stepped through the door, glanced at the pile of crates ready to be moved, then reached for Scotty.
‘So you are leaving, you little rascal,’ she grumbled as she swung him into her arms.
‘Put him down, Sonia! Scotty is much too heavy for you to be lifting now.’
‘Ha. These muscles have been carting rocks and belting stone for years. A little tacker like this is nothing!’ Sonia tickled Scotty, causing his fit of giggles to fill the room.
‘Well, it’s high time you stopped carting rocks, too!’
Although Sonia, at almost seven months pregnant, would do well to heed the advice, Sofia knew her words were wasted. Sonia was a law to herself. One of the few people living at Montsalvat who had the courage to stand up to Justus when he was being overbearing. And Sofia was so impressed with the way Sonia had stood up to Arthur, the reluctant father of the baby she carried. She felt less sure about the way the young woman was so fearless in her disdain for the sneers of the world at large as she strode about the village in her men’s overalls and work boots, swollen belly and ringless fingers. Perhaps it was a good thing Sonia so easily cast off the judgements of others, Sofia concluded. Her future as an unwed mother would not be an easy path to tread.
‘Is there anything I can do to help?’ Sonia offered.
‘No, thanks. We’ve got most things organised now. Taking Scotty for a couple of hours will be wonderful.’
Listening to Sofia’s plans for him, Scotty set up a howl.
‘Scotty! What’s wrong? You are going to go walking with Sonia and Max. There will be lots of lizards and you might even see a lyrebird! It will be fun!’
‘No, no... I want you...’
Sofia was surprised. Scotty always loved ambling around Montsalvat with Sonia, and he adored playing with Max.
‘I think he knows change is in the air, and he’s out of sorts,’ Sonia said, and Sofia agreed. Scotty loved Montsalvat and would find life in the small cottage, without Max or any one of a dozen adults to entertain him, quite an adjustment.
‘Shh... shh... what’s wrong, mi tesoro?’ Rather than calming at her question, Scotty’s wailing increased in volume. Sofia picked him up. As he snuggled against her, his thumb went to his mouth and his large brown eyes looked at Sonia defiantly, as though daring her to separate him from his mother. It was then Sofia noticed the dribble which had soaked his shirt, and his eyes, puffy from crying, were pink, as were his cheeks.
Resting her forehead against his, Sofia detected a slight fever. Scotty’s two-year-old molars had been slowly coming, and for weeks they’d caused this same reaction. A drop of almond oil and sleep would be the best solution, she decided.
‘Sonia, Scotty is teething again. He’s got a temperature. I think it would be best if I put him down for a rest. He didn’t sleep yesterday, what with all the packing going on. Perhaps he needs to catch up. A nap will do him good.’
‘Okay...’ Sonia sounded dubious. Sofia knew she’d be torn between wanting to stay and help with the packing and needing to keep the arrangement she’d made to collect Max from Lil, who was working at her office this morning. Yesterday the plan to take the two little boys for a walk down to the dam, after which she’d give them morning tea under the trees, had seemed a good idea. Now she’d have to cater to the demands of Max alone.
‘It’s alright. Scotty will be asleep in no time. He can have a walk with you and Max another day.’
* * *
As Sofia anticipated, Scotty was breathing the deep sleep of exhaustion within minutes of being returned to his bed. He’d be out for an hour at least. After giving him a final pat, she retreated from the room and closed the door. She glared at the smeared window panes and dusty sills, but there was little she could do without Bon Ami and vinegar. When the windows were dirty, the whole place felt dirty, and she wanted them clean! She glanced at the closed bedroom door and decided to slip into town, after all. She’d be there and back within twenty minutes, and Jack was barely a hundred yards away. She’d ask him to listen out for Scotty while she was out.
* * *
The morning sunshine was pleasant, but a wintery chill bit against Sofia’s bare legs as she wheeled her bicycle across to the Great Hall. Already a breeze had sprung up, and she clutched at the skirt of her dress as it was captured by the wind. She could see through the upstairs window, to where Jack was standing, and rather than walk up the stairs and contend with social niceties with Justus, she called out from below.
