‘Oh,’ Maxine said, rubbing her eyes.
‘Oh, indeed,’ Sofia replied.
‘Marco is just leaving.’
Sofia felt her jaw stiffening. ‘He stayed the night?’
Maxine shrugged.
‘Look, Maxine, you really can’t invite just anybody to stay here.’
‘He isn’t just anybody.’
‘For God’s sake, he’s a partisan in my house. Do you not understand?’
‘The equipment was in your tunnels,’ she retorted. Maxine, fierce, was a force to be reckoned with, but Sofia was not intimidated.
‘My husband is here,’ she hissed, ‘not in the damn tunnels. This cannot happen again.’
‘Surely he wouldn’t mind?’
‘What do you mean?’
Maxine frowned. ‘Well, he clearly isn’t on the side of the bloody Nazis, is he?’
‘Whatever he is doing, it is not a suitable subject for conversation.’
‘Ah … well.’ Maxine’s mouth twisted to one side and she patted Marco’s arm affectionately. ‘Anyway, we have news.’
‘Good news?’
‘I think so. The network of staffettas delivered a message requesting I make urgent radio contact with Ronald. We tried repeatedly, James and I, but the connection kept failing. The mountain topography creates problems, you see. But, thanks to the message precedence system, we finally made good contact yesterday. We now know the Germans have drawn up plans for the defence of Italian cities, including a huge arsenal to be stored in the centre of Florence.’
‘Where?’
‘That we don’t know. We do know the weapons will be arriving by train in crates from the Beretta factory in Lombardy. Sub-machine guns, rifles, pistols. They manufactured them all for the Italian military until the Germans appropriated the factory for themselves following the armistice.’
‘Lorenzo used to know the chairman of Beretta,’ Sofia said.
‘Well, he’s probably long gone. Anyway, there’s more. I’ve been tasked with befriending an SS officer called Bruckner,’ Maxine said. ‘Gustav Bruckner. Normally he’s based in Florence, but he works with Kesselring, the Commander-in-chief, and we believe he’ll be the one to decide where the armaments will be stored.’
Marco nodded. ‘We know he’s going to be in Montepulciano for meetings with officers from Rome.’
‘I’m planning to go there and meet up with this Bruckner,’ Maxine said.
‘And I’m in contact with some of the Florentine partisans who I’m certain will do what they can to help us locate the arsenal,’ Marco added.
‘So, your objective will be to relieve the Germans of their new arsenal in the city?’ Sofia asked.
‘Right.’
‘I have a cousin with whom I can stay in Montepulciano,’ Maxine put in. ‘Marco knows where the Germans drink, the bars they go to, where they eat. I hope to get to know Bruckner, find out what I can and then meet up with the partisan unit in Florence.’
‘They will want to know why you’re in Montepulciano, who you are – and if they find out you’re …’ Sofia shrugged, but her meaning was clear. ‘And you’ll need clothes. The right kind of clothes.’
Maxine nodded. ‘That’s true.’
As Sofia considered this, she remembered they still had a wardrobe full of Lorenzo’s sister’s clothes. After the car accident in which Lorenzo’s father, his mother and his sister had perished in Switzerland just a few months after their wedding, Sofia hadn’t had the heart to get rid of them, and his sister had been a similar size to Maxine.
Marco gave Sofia an enquiring look. ‘You have friends in Florence?’
‘Yes, many, we have a small palazzo there. But you know about the arrests by the SS – the questions, the torture?’
He nodded, no doubt also thinking about the place the people had dubbed the Villa Triste in Via Bolognese, the headquarters of the SS.
‘It’s hardly safe,’ Sofia added.
‘They’re more preoccupied with rounding up the remaining Jews there than digging out the partisans at the moment.’
Maxine reached out a hand to Sofia. ‘I’ll need somewhere to stay when I’m in Florence. It would be a helpful cover if you could be there too. Gives me a reason to be there, as your friend.’
‘And, Contessa, you must have contacts?’ Marco added.
‘Yes. I know the German Consul, Gerhard Wolf. And I know one of the more sympathetic German residents, if he’s still there. A young man called Reinhard. He used to be a lawyer before the war and could be useful.’
Maxine brightened. ‘We have a man who works as a clerk in the outer office of the German Consul. So that’s perfect. You can try to get an appointment with Wolf and I’ll come to Florence as soon as I can.’
‘Very well. I’ll open up the palazzo, but don’t expect too much.’
Marco was looking at Sofia encouragingly. ‘Don’t forget, the resistance is growing. The enforced use of thousands of our men as labourers has gone against the Germans. They’ll make mistakes.’
The next morning, Sofia woke with Lorenzo curled up against her, comforted by the soapy sandalwood smell of him, her underlying anxiety outweighed by the very real joy of being so close. They’d always slept this way, with him curled up behind her or sometimes the other way round. She had been missing his warmth, and she felt safer now, although she’d been able to tell something was troubling him. She’d asked him about it the night before, but he’d just shaken his head and said his job was becoming more difficult; he couldn’t rid himself of the feeling that he was being kept under observation.
Of course, that had worried her.
She recalled the first time Lorenzo had turned those gentle grey eyes in her direction and how she’d felt as if he’d been able to see right inside her. It had taken her by surprise and left her tongue-tied. When a man sees past your defences for the first time it’s terribly thrilling and new, but it leaves you exposed too. Lorenzo had never taken advantage of her vulnerability. But now he seemed to be erecting shields, as if he had become the vulnerable one.
There’d been a heavier fall of snow during the night and, when they rose, she found they were completely cut off. No telephone, no electricity and therefore no radio. There’d be no post until the snow cleared, and Sofia felt very relieved Lorenzo was home. After breakfast, despite the biting cold, they wrapped up in woollen coats, scarves, hats and gloves, and set off for a walk in the snow with the dogs at their heels.
Outside, the whole world had been silenced and, although cold, it was also very beautiful, the heavy white sky so low you felt you might reach out and touch it. In thick sheepskin boots they picked their way along one of the tracks leading to the road to San Giovanni d’Asso. Sofia loved to breathe the chill air and watch her breath escaping in a cloud then mingling with Lorenzo’s.
‘Why this way?’ she asked as he took her arm.
‘The road is safer.’
‘From bombs?’
‘From snowdrifts, silly.’
They both laughed and she felt a little lighter than before.
‘I wanted to tell you about Rome,’ Lorenzo said, changing the subject. ‘I’ve never seen anything like it. People are hiding all over the city in fear for their lives. There’s constant machine-gun fire and the boom of hand grenades hounds us literally night and day. And all this in maybe one of the worst winters.’
Sofia’s heart plummeted in worry for her parents. ‘Not maybe. It’s the coldest winter I’ve ever known.’
‘There’s strong resistance though and sporadic sniping at Germans and Fascists too. Unfortunately, there are too many opposing partisan groups and they don’t always work together.’
She hardly dared ask and, when she spoke, her voice was a whisper. ‘My parents?’
‘They’re safe enough for now. But every time a grenade explodes, everybody in the vicinity is arrested. The worst thing is that faith in the Allies is weakening and food has become terribly scarce.’
�
�What is happening with the Allies?’
‘The British army are almost at a standstill. We hear they’ve only advanced twenty miles in two months.’
‘I hadn’t realized it was that bad.’
‘The conditions are hellish. It’s wet, freezing and muddy. They’re moving forward inch by inch over the mountains, with no tree cover, fired on by the Germans from the top. Mortar bombs, grenades, machine guns, the lot. They need to get to Rome, but God only knows how long it will take with the mountains as impregnable as fortresses.’
‘I feel for them,’ she said and reached for Lorenzo’s hand. ‘What do you think I should do about my parents?’
‘When I go back, I’ll try to persuade them to come here, but write to your mother too. I’ll do my best to deliver it.’
‘Maybe I should go to her. Do you have a new address? I don’t think my last letter could have reached her.’
‘I know. It’s because they keep having to move on.’
‘Oh, Lorenzo,’ she said, and a sob caught in her throat. Then scalding tears began dripping on to her freezing cheeks as she imagined her poor parents being forced to lead such a marginalized life.
He wrapped his arms round her and they stood for a few minutes, as still and silent as the land around them, both with their own thoughts.
Then he pulled back before wiping her tears away. ‘Come on, my darling. Let’s walk and afterwards we’ll spend the rest of the day beside the fire. If Giulia hasn’t lit it, I will. How does that sound?’
‘It sounds wonderful, but I’m afraid Giulia has gone back to live with her ailing grandmother in Pisa. You remember she lived there for a while before she returned here.’
‘When did that happen?’
‘Yesterday. She’d been unreliable for a while and then she upped and went, just leaving a message with Carla.’
‘Ah. Can you manage without her?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘You won’t miss her?’
‘She wasn’t here for long, so no.’
‘It’s the little things we miss most of all,’ he said. ‘Isn’t it?’
She nodded, remembering all the familiar rituals that bound them together and formed the foundations of their lives; the little things they took for granted until they were gone. She longed for the ordinariness of their old routines, the way day followed day in peace and certainty.
‘What are you thinking?’ he asked. ‘Something bothering you?’
She knew she had to raise the subject of Florence.
‘I was thinking of maybe spending a little time in Florence, that’s all. If you don’t mind.’
‘Really? The place will need airing and Florence isn’t safe. And what about the damage to the palazzo?’
‘It’s been dealt with. There wasn’t much.’ She ignored his disapproving expression. ‘I can take Anna with me and we have so many friends there.’
He tilted his head to one side and gazed at her, his eyes full of love and concern. ‘I wish you wouldn’t. Why the sudden change?’
‘Oh … I don’t know.’ Her voice faltered, she took a steadying breath and then she told him everything. Told him about her mother’s letter, about James and the radio, about her involvement with the partisans and about Maxine’s task to find out where the Nazi weapons were to be stored in Florence.
He stood absolutely still, staring at the ground. When finally he looked up and held out a hand to her, his eyes were dark with anxiety. ‘Oh God, Sofia. Damn it! All this is terribly dangerous. At this stage of the war, even knowing Maxine could put you in jeopardy. Anything could happen. I want you to keep out of it. You must keep out of it.’
She shook her head. ‘That’s impossible. Aldo’s death changed everything for me.’
Lorenzo gazed at her, so troubled she almost changed her mind. Almost, but not quite.
‘I understand that,’ he said. ‘But, nevertheless, I can’t let you go.’
‘And I can’t just stand by. I won’t have to do much. Truly. Maxine will be there and Anna too. They’ll be doing the work. But if I’m there it gives them a plausible reason to be staying in our palazzo and I want to meet up with Gerhard Wolf too.’
‘Dear God. This is crazy! Must you? When he came to our house, it was well before the armistice. Remember, we were on the same side as the Germans then.’
‘He may know something.’
Lorenzo sighed. ‘He won’t be able to say, even if he does.’
‘Maybe not.’ She took a breath. ‘Look, Lorenzo, I am going to go. But I’d much rather go with your blessing than without it.’
A nerve in his jaw was pulsing furiously and she could see how dreadfully upset he was. ‘If anything happens to you –’
‘It won’t,’ she interrupted. ‘I promise.’
He took a long, slow breath and nodded.
‘Do you know if Reinhard is still in Florence?’ she asked. ‘The lawyer. You remember him? I found him rather sympathetic before the war.’
‘He was arrested.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘Spying for the Allies.’
‘And you? Is that what you’re doing too?’
‘I’m doing what I can, as you already know. When I can, I pass on detailed information to the Allies.’
‘About the whereabouts of foodstuffs?’
‘Correct.’
She smiled, knowing there was more, but also knowing he’d be unlikely to give her details. ‘And what you said about feeling you’re being watched. You will be careful?’
‘Of course.’
‘Do you think you might be able to arrange for my parents to come here to the Castello?’
‘I’ll try.’
There was a pause before he spoke again.
‘Well,’ he said, ‘if you’re really determined to go, I can’t stop you. At least you won’t be quite as cold in Florence as you are here.’
She gave him a small, grateful smile.
‘Look,’ he said, ‘it’s snowing again.’
She watched the white crystals dancing in the air.
‘You are my light,’ he said and stroked some snow from her hair with an icy gloved hand.
‘You always say that.’
‘Because it’s true.’ He gazed into her eyes. ‘Promise me you will stay safe.’
And, although he was smiling, she could tell he would not stop worrying about her visit to Florence.
‘I’ll be safe,’ she said. ‘Now come on.’
Their boots sank into the snow as they crunched their way back, holding hands for balance, and for more than that: for love, for hope, for a future. A burst of sunlight shot through a gap in the snowy clouds, firing up the distant hills in shades of red and gold. Sofia glanced back at their deep footprints, planting them in her memory and knowing this moment with Lorenzo was one she had to preserve.
27.
Maxine sat in her cousin Davide’s drawing room in his house in the medieval hilltop town of Montepulciano. With the shutters closed, and heavy velvet curtains drawn across the two windows facing the garden, the room felt claustrophobic. She breathed in the sour air in the little-used room and, despite the cold, longed to throw open a window. No welcome fire burned in the grate and only two candles lit the room. It was now the twenty-second of January.
When she’d first met up with her cousin, Davide, back in the late autumn, he’d been a little reticent at first, as he’d never met her before, but had eventually agreed she could stay with him and his family if she ever needed. There had been some tense days in the town since the execution, a week before, of six local peasants who’d helped conceal and feed escaped prisoners. Maxine had met two of the dead the day before it had happened and had been shaken by the news. The men had been ordinary working people, too old to be called up, and with extended families who relied on them.
Marco had taken her to talk with some of the local partisans but with even more Fascist militiamen arriving in town intent on helping the Gestapo weed out
those who continued to undermine the work of the German Reich, many were now in hiding.
Maxine and Lara, her cousin’s wife, were waiting for Davide to come into the drawing room. They listened as he made his way down the creaking stairs and then entered the room. He winked at them both before setting up the secret radio he usually kept hidden in the attic. It was the most thrilling moment of the day and Maxine’s heart pounded in expectation as they all drew close, huddling round to hear, hungry for the day’s news. As Davide fiddled with the knobs, the set whistled and, at first, the sound was disappointingly intermittent. A crackle. A hiss. A word. Even when they began to hear speech, the words were impossibly scrambled. Maxine held her breath. Would anything come through tonight? Lately the lack of good news had been agonizing: people were losing heart, resentment was growing and some believed the Germans really were going to win the war. And with what seemed like indiscriminate bombing by the Allies, some even thought it might be better if they did. Unsurprisingly, the Allies were aiming for railway lines, stations, assembly storage areas, holding areas and so on, but when village after village took a direct hit, people became angry. The crackles continued but then came the Allied radio broadcasters, who at nine o’clock sometimes sent encrypted messages for the resistance. Occasionally ‘personal messages’ were hidden in its broadcasts of news and entertainment to occupied Europe. Often, there were coded messages intended for secret agents. She worried the station wouldn’t come through clearly but, at last, it did, thin and high-pitched, but enough for them to hear.
To begin with, silenced by disbelief, they exchanged cautious glances. There had not been an encrypted message, just this incredible news. Could it be true? Could they really be so close? The newsreader repeated the message: the Allies had landed at Nettuno, just over sixty-five kilometres south of Rome. Not only that, there had also been massive Allied bombing of German cities; anxiety was now spreading among the German population, some of whom feared they might lose the war after all.
Davide gave a joyful shout, clapped Maxine on the back and kissed his wife on both cheeks. ‘This calls for only the very best.’ He punched the air in jubilation, and then left the room.
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