House Dimitrescu: Alcina

Part 2

'I want to have a marriage like yours and tati's.' Alcina pointed at a beautiful ivory nightgown that her personal maid immediately started folding to place in the suitcase she was preparing. 'A man like that is a rarity and I want to make sure I marry my one true love. And then you'll have all the grandchildren your heart desires.'

Cecilia couldn't help but feel her daughter was just telling her what she wanted to hear. 'But darling... you are nearing 30...'.

'There's plenty of time! And who knows... maybe I'll find exactly what I'm looking for in the beautiful Douro valleys... they make for a very romantic setting' Alcina smiled. In reality she had no such yearning, but she wanted to instil in her poor old mother a flicker of hope.

The young lady Dimitrescu was travelling to Portugal, to learn of the creation of the wonderful sweet Port wine that had originated in its northern riverside vineyards. She was to meet some of the most prominent figures of the trade and strike with them a relationship, agreement, allegiance, whatever you may call it in the business world.

'It wouldn't be a bad idea... a young, cultured Portuguese heir... We could even strike quite a deal. Your father would be most pleased.' Cecilia allowed her imagination to wander. Inevitably it wandered to the thought that Alcina could instead find a heiress.

'I promise I will write to you as soon as someone strikes my fancy.' Alcina seemed satisfied with her clothing choices, she was now focusing on toiletries.

–

Porto was a wonderful destination, bursting with people from different walks of life, ancient trades and new fashions. Alcina had heard of how sunny the country could be but had not quite realised how seriously this would affect her porphyria, so she had acquired an array of wonderfully big and beautiful sun hats that protected her skin from any flare ups. She wore them not only as a necessity but also as a fashion statement and soon became talked about as one of the most notable and best-dressed new additions to Porto's a-listers scene. In fact, she liked them so much she had every intention to continue wearing them in the more forgiving Romanian weather when she finally had to go back. One could never have too many hats. Nor gloves.

Going back home to Bucharest didn't seem so appealing at the moment. Alcina was having a wonderful time with her Portuguese chaperones and enjoyed the many trips to wineries and late night conversations about her father's trade. She had also made some lovely female acquaintances and had had time for a sweet little tryst that had to unfortunately end shortly after it began, due to the arrival of her interest's betrothed. Still, her biggest worry was not so much what she was leaving behind, but also what she was going home to. Europe had just broken into war when the United Kingdom and France declared war against Germany after they invaded Poland on September 1st. Romania had initially been neutral, as Portugal was, but according to her parents' letters they seemed to be veering towards the German side, which was worrying due to its dishonourable agreements with the Soviets. As it was, nobody knew what was going to happen to Romania.

Alcina's stay in Portugal was prolonged at the request of her father. He had sent her enough funds to remain comfortable with her newfound friends. She worried daily about how her beloved parents were faring, and feared to travel throughout the country for too long should she miss important letters. She felt slightly guilty for enjoying a peaceful time in such delectable company whilst her own family was living in such uncertainty. Her parents assured her they felt much more at ease if she was far from the frightening what-ifs that loomed over her homeland.

As the months rolled in, the letters received were farther apart. They were still coming from their Bucharest residence and Alcina feared they had lost the castle in Transylvania as she had read Hungary had taken hold of the region, but her father had made no allusion to that, likely not to worry her. Before she knew it, a couple years had passed and there was still no end in sight. Alcina was now in desperation. What had first been a business trip had turned into leisure and then to something that almost felt like exile. She missed her parents so deeply and knew to her core their situation must be so much more dire than they let on. She could also notice the funds sent to support her safe haven away from the wrecks of war-torn Europe were less and less. Her friends assured her they would not let her be without any comfort, but Alcina's heart was already heavy with a worry she would never be able to lift.

On 12th September 1944 Alcina received a letter from her beloved mother. She fell to her knees crying. She had been in bits for weeks as she had read and heard every bit of news regarding the bombings by the Luftwaffe in Bucharest. She had hoped for a sign that her kin were safe and well but this letter did not provide any comfort. It had been written mere days before the bombings, nearly a month ago. Alcina gave herself another 2 months before she accepted that she may now be alone in the world. When no further contact was successfully made, came November Alcina finally mourned her parents.

Six whole years after the war started it ended. Alcina felt so numb for the past year that she couldn't make sense just how much time had passed. Her heart wasn't as warm as it had once been. She looked herself in the mirror one morning and noted she didn't look tired, just more austere. Her beautiful features were still there, but her jovial je-ne-sais-quois was gone. She looked at herself a little longer trying to see her parents in her reflection. Sometimes her mother's eyes looked back at her. Her heart was empty. She felt guilty. Guilty she was not there. Guilty she never gave her father the satisfaction of seeing her proudly take over his vinicultural empire and that she never gave her mother the grandchildren she so craved for.

Romania was still reeling from the aftermath of World War II. At least that was what Alcina told herself. Her good friends' hospitality extended itself indefinitely. She owed them so much... she adored them and they were all she had now. She knew she had to go back to Romania but she didn't know what she was going home to. Was there even a home left?