text: I didn't see that one coming. My name is Gino Conti. One morning last summer, I sat on my front veranda in January before it got too hot. It was a serene summer morning, and I enjoyed the tranquility. The last slice of toast from my breakfast was a lovely end to the meal. As I sipped my tea, I gazed at my farm, admiring the progress of this season's sugar cane crop. I was anticipating reading the newspaper leisurely, something I rarely got to do when I was farming. I had retired a few years back. My son Gino Junior now farms my land next to his own, and I get a share of the profit. Although it gets hot and humid here in the summer, it would be another beautiful day. It was a moment that caught me entirely off guard. Out of nowhere, I saw Gino's ute tearing down my driveway. He screeched to a halt, spreading dust and gravel in all directions. He jumped out of his ute and slammed the door, his face a mix of urgency and concern, his eyes searching for mine. He was on my veranda in two strides. He threw his hat in the chair and started pacing the veranda. I could see that he was agitated, so I said "Hi, Gino, what's up?" Gino Junior said, his voice trembling with shock and disbelief as he spoke. "I'll tell you what's up, Dad. I just received a phone call from a woman who thinks she might be your daughter." "What?" That completely blindsided me. I said to him "I am seventy-two years old. It's a bit late for me to get another daughter suddenly." "I haven't dated since your mother, God rest her soul, died four years ago. I never had an affair; I wouldn't have had the time; I was working all the daylight hours that God sent me." "Who is she? I have only ever dated three women. The last of them was your mother." Gino Junior said "Her name is Jean Jacobs, and she said you knew her mother during the war." Gino said "Well, that narrows it down a little. I dated Suzie Connors briefly during the war, but then I met and married your mother in June 1946. Suzie lived in town, and she was the Librarian. She Married Bob Johnson in 1949 after the war. 1 I would have known if she were pregnant. The other girl I dated was Alicia Adams, a land army girl I had worked with during the war. That ended abruptly when the Government decided to release us internees in 1943. I had no time or way to let her know what had happened. We just got up and ready for work one morning when a truck was waiting to take us back to Cowra. She would have thought that we had been moved onto another farm. We were busy getting the hell out of Cowra before they changed their minds. It took me a month to get back here, walking, working where I could, and hitchhiking while generally heading north." "How old was this woman?" I asked. Gino said "He hadn't seen her, but on the phone, she sounded like she was a few years older than him". "He wanted to break it to me gently, and he had asked her to ring at 9 am tomorrow to arrange a meeting and to bring all her paperwork and photos." I had to prepare with the anticipation and uncertainty of tomorrow's meeting looming over me. I needed a haircut, a freshly aired suit that didn't smell of mothballs, and a clear mind to face this unexpected turn of events. Gino said, "It's OK, Dad. I will drive you into town to get a haircut today. I will pick you up at 9:15 tomorrow, and we will sort this out. I told her to bring all her paperwork and photos with her. All I need at forty-four is another sister to contend with. I already have two of them." Gino took me to town for a haircut and bought cake and biscuits to entertain her. The further into my day I got, the more nervous I became and the more bad-tempered Gino became. He started muttering that she would want a share of my money. I told him to "Settle down. I haven't even met the woman yet." After an anxious night, Gino rang me just after 9 am and said he would pick me up. I told him I was ready and had my glasses with me. The moment had arrived, and we pulled into Gino's front yard simultaneously. Gino bustled us into his kitchen too quickly for me to notice anything about her. However, I could look at her when we faced each other while Gino boiled the kettle. She seemed so familiar to me. 2 I could see myself in her eyes, the same eyes all my children had, creating an instant bond between us. At that moment, I knew she was my daughter. When Gino finally sat down and looked at her, I could see that he noticed it as well, and he accepted that he had a sister. All his anger suddenly deflated, which went a long way to calming the atmosphere. Then Jean introduced herself and pulled three photos and letters from her handbag. Jean explained that her mother, who had been Alicia Adams before she married, had recently died. Jean had found these photos and letters amongst her effects. She had only discovered that her dad was not her father, and she thought I was. I gasped when I saw the young photos of my beautiful Alicia and me. I was fixated on them for a minute; then, I handed them over to Gino to see. Jean handed me the letters in the order they had been written for me to read, fifty years too late to have done anything about them. I could hardly read them as tears streamed down my face, and I was busy wiping my eyes and holding Jean's hand. As I read the letters, I was saying "My daughter, My daughter." I had no idea I had left my beautiful Alicia in such a predicament. I loved her; I would have married her if I had known. It was cruel of the Government not to let her know we had been released. I am so sorry that Alicia had to go through all that alone. She sounds terrified in her letters. I said "Alicia was courageous to keep you in that time." With the photo of Alicia and me in my hand, I gazed at my newest daughter. I could see how beautifully Alicia's and my features combined to make this grown woman. After the hundred-and-one questions we had between ourselves, I was getting to know my surprise daughter a little bit. I was sorry that Alicia had died. I loved that woman and deeply regretted being pulled away from her so suddenly. However, we would have been moved to another harvest sooner or later. Internees had no say in the matter. We talked all day until five p.m. when Gino introduced Jean to his family as they came home from school and work. Gino's wife Maria suggested they have a party tomorrow Saturday for Gino's sisters and their families to meet my daughter Jean. When Gino took me home that night, I turned to him and I said "I didn't see that one coming." 3