Burden of Memory by Vicki Delany

Author:Vicki Delany [Delany, Vicki]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FICTION / Mystery & Detective / General
ISBN: 978-1-6159-50423
Publisher: Poisoned Pen Press
Published: 2010-08-17T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-three

“M?”

“Um?”

“Do you miss home?”

“What a silly question. Of course I miss home. Why do you ask?”

“Just wondering.”

“Well, stop wondering and enjoy the day. Isn’t this heavenly?”

“I guess.”

“Oh, for mercy’s sake, Ralph. Stop being so melancholy.” Moira pushed her dark glasses on top of her hair and peered at her brother, her eyes recoiling from the harsh sunlight. “You’re ruining my day.”

“Sorry.”

“So you should be.” She pulled the glasses back down and snuggled deeper into the warm sand. The skin at her throat, face, and arms was still pale yellow. An interesting contrast to the acres of white skin exposed by her borrowed bathing suit. “I’m about ready for another swim. Coming?”

May 1944. The Isle of Capri. Moira had never been anywhere so beautiful. The sun baked their white bodies and the warm sand cradled their war-saturated souls. Ralph and Moira lay on borrowed towels watching the gentle rolling of the azure waters and clouds that moved lazily across a sky almost too blue to behold. Far in the distance, on the rim of the horizon, past the towering limestone rocks reaching up out of the sea like the thumbs of giants, she could see the smoking plume of a ship, heading east through the Mediterranean. A war ship, no doubt. Maybe a troop carrier. En route to God knows where. She shivered in the sun and cast her thoughts to the men it carried, watching until it disappeared over the rim of the world.

She pulled herself to her feet. “Come on. Let’s have one last dip. Almost time to be on our way.”

“You go without me. I’ve had enough.”

“Ralph.” Moira sunk to her haunches beside her brother. “Something is bothering you and I do wish you would talk to me about it.”

“Nothing.”

“Suit yourself.”

She padded across the hot sand and around the rocks and slipped into the water. For a few moments the gentle caress of the soft, warm water on her battledress-roughened skin was enough to make her forget her brother and his unnaturally dismal mood. She flipped onto her back and floated, eyes closed. It was almost possible to believe that she was back home at the family cottage on Lake Muskoka. Taking a quick dip off the end of the dock before supper.

The sharp tang of salt water stung her cracked lips and the image disappeared with a poof, like the end to an insipid amateur magic show.

The beach was not crowded. A few Allied soldiers with their new Italian girlfriends, a handful of local families—only women and children and old men left—several groups of nurses, like Moira herself, on leave at the Number 1 Canadian Nursing Sisters Rest Home at Amalfi. The home was a delight; comfortable, soothing. A wonderful Italian cook lovingly prepared dishes the women had never even heard of, much less eaten; tagliatelli and zabaglioni were Moira’s favorites. The rest home was close to Naples and the Isle of Capri so the sisters and their guests took every advantage of the change to have a real holiday.

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