The White Rose. Madilina Tresca

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      Skyla was in deep thought, wondering what had made her call out to her son. Startled upon hearing her name she jumped back into the present.

      'Skyla, sorry, I didn't mean to scare you.' It was one of the mothers inviting her along with some of the others over for a quick cuppa as she just lived across the road from Saint Piggies. Skyla would have loved to but had a long list of bills she had planned to pay that morning.

      As Skyla walked towards her car, she turned around to look at the small bed of white roses. There was something, she could feel it, but what was it? Unbeknowst to Skyla, the rose which Addison had momentarily brushed with his school bag had begun to glow.

      Skyla fastened her seat belt and turned on the ignition. The radio was already tuned to her favourite Morning Show.

      He did, he saw the white rose, its true! cried a listener.

      What? Skyla drove out and parked in the small avenue off Pengilly Street. She listened to the caller's sobbing. This poor girl's fiancé had called off the wedding and dumped her in front of all at Town Hall Station. Skyla began to shake uncontrollably. She knew. She remembered.The pain had been excruciating!

      A white rose! Hadn't Ryan said something about seeing a white rose?

      The Radio station was being hammered with listeners calling in about the curse of the White Rose. As Skyla continued listening in her car, more and more young and old listeners called in. The stories were all the same. What had initiated this flood of calls, wondered Skyla. At that moment she heard;

      Thank you, Christopher Marriston for your time this morning. Your book, Mirela's Rose, has stirred quite a response from our listeners.

      Skyla sat up straight upon hearing that name, Mirela. Why? She had never heard of the name but she knew that she had to have that book. What was the author's name again? Christopher Marriston? Skyla fumbled for a pen in her car's compartment and scribbled his name on one of her past rego receipts. When would she find the time to clean this compartment!

      To all our listeners Christopher Marriston will be at Dymock's on George Street tomorrow at noon where he will be happy to sign your personal copy of Mirela's Rose.

      Skyla sat back in her car seat, as she remembered, Ryan, who had been her first love. She could hear the beat of her heart. How she had cried herself to sleep for weeks. Neither she nor Ryan's family had ever been in contact since. Her parents had advised her to let him go and Ryan's family in turn had never called her asking what had happened.

      Back at the Radio station Christopher Marriston briefed the listeners about the story of Mirela. His voice drifted in and out of Skyla's thoughts as she listened, intrigued by this story while at the same time remembering Ryan.

       The story is about young love between Charlotte and Addison. Charlotte was the daughter of a distant relative of Governor King who had been orphaned by the deaths of her parents and had been placed in the care of a great Aunt. Addison, was the son of a Private Arthur Henry.

       It's 1817, both Charlotte and Addison were seventeen years old and then there was Mirela, who was the same age. Mirela was the daughter of convicts. Her father and mother met on the Minerva convict ship which arrived in Port Jackson in 1800. Her mother was Esmeralda, a descendant of Romanian gyspies. Mirela had a special gift of performing incantations. This apparently concerned Esmeralda. The story goes that all three were at the Hyde Park races. Charlotte and Addison were flirting and kissing behind a tree and did not know that Mirela too was hiding behind a nearby tree, spying on them. Charlotte had a white rose in her hand. She had tied a blue ribbon on which she had embroidered 'Charlotte loves Addison forever'. When Mirela saw the white rose being given to Addison, she fell to her knees and drew the rose in the dirt. She closed her eyes, waved her hands over her drawing and lay a curse on the rose.

       Upon touching the white rose, Addison's handsome face became grotesque. He told Charlotte he did not love her anymore and had found the means to leave the colony and sail back to England. He left Charlotte there and then and was never seen or heard of again.

       No-one knows why Mirela cast a curse on that white rose nor her connection with Addison.

       A White Rose mysteriously ended up in the Colonial cemetery where her father Christopher Fitzgerald had been buried in 1804 and where Town Hall Station now stands. There in the same spot it has reappeared and continues to reappear to this day to all men who are desperately in love.

      Skyla was overcome with emotion and began to cry for Charlotte's pain. Why? Why should she be crying for someone who lived over a century ago!

      Skyla had believed her world had come to an end until Jeremy walked into her life. It had been love at first sight. Jeremy made her feel alive again. She loved him dearly and could not want for a better husband and father to her children.

      Skyla had inherited her mother's blonde curly hair which she straightened regularly. Her shoulder length layed bob suited her. Skyla loved nothing better than wearing capri pants with matching loose tops and runners. Her boys had inherited Jeremy's dark brown hair. Skyla may have been dwarfed by her 190cm tall husband but what she lacked in height she made up in intellect and personality.

      Skyla and Jeremy had been married for fourteen years. They had been introduced by Skyla's father, Leonard Leons, a retired lawyer. Leonard had worked for the same law firm for thirty years. Jeremy had been hired to fill in Leonard's position. The two clicked straight away. There was no doubt in Leonard's mind that he had found the boy for his little girl. His gut feeling proved correct that night he had invited Jeremy over for dinner.

      Skyla sat deep in thought. It was the second time that morning that she had been brought back to reality. A woman, roughly the same age as her, was knocking on her window. Skyla had blocked the driveway.

      'I'm so sorry!' Skyla turned on the ignition and fastened her seat belt.

      Sydney historian and university lecturer Christopher Marriston was the special guest that morning. Time was up and the Radio announcer had to wrap up with the promo of the book and Marriston's appearance at Dymocks. Skyla turned the radio off as she found herself immersed in the morning traffic. There was no doubt in her mind where she was going tomorrow after the school drop off. Skyla had a moment of amusement as she realised that Charlotte had fallen in love with a young man whose name was the same as her eldest son.

      Chapter Three

      The Historian

      C

      hristopher Marriston and his wife Ghita had been born and raised in Fairfield. Today they lived in Wakeley with their two daughters. His wife was a casual teacher at St Mary Helen College, the local Josephite school. Christopher was head of the History Department at the University of Sydney.

      After fourteen years of marriage Christopher and Ghita were still a strikingly handsome, Mediterranean-looking couple. Christopher wore his long wavy hair in a pony tail while Ghita maintained her natural curls, just at chin length. She had an endless assortment of looped earrings and never left the house without a pair. No surprise that their daughters had both inherited their parents long brown wavy hair. The СКАЧАТЬ