The Tuscan Contessa

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The Tuscan Contessa Page 27

by Dinah Jefferies


  Once she found what she was looking for, Maxine hurried back to tell Elsa. ‘There’s a barn, only ten minutes’ walk. Been hit by a bomb. Huge hole in the roof and a crater in the floor but it’s safe all around the sides. Can we manage it?’

  So Elsa and Maxine supported Roberto, whose eyes were now closed, and they half carried him, half dragged him to the barn where Elsa gathered some bits of hay to fashion a bed for him on the rough stone floor. Maxine collected pieces of broken wood from what had once been animal stalls and built a small fire to warm him. The man was utterly still, showing signs of life only when a coughing fit took him; afterwards, convulsed and gasping, he was barely able to breathe at all.

  That night they hardly slept. Maxine watched as, through the hole in the roof, Allied flares could be seen floating in the air, looking other-worldly as they gradually fell, illuminating the ground below. If only the Allies would come now, she muttered to herself. Why were they taking so long to win Cassino? Once that happened, Rome would be next. But all the news reports continued to say the Allies were having to fight a desperate war on the ground and the Germans were holding fast to their strongest line of defence so far. And until the British army or the Americans were able to cross the heavily guarded Rapido river there was no hope of taking Monte Cassino. Reports had filtered through that hundreds of men had attempted it already and had drowned or been shot, the river turning red with their blood. In one attempt the Americans had lost 2,000 men in twenty-four hours.

  Here, the moon was so bright, like an unusually blue day, the Allies barely needed the flares. Mice scurried along the walls of the barn and outside larger animals, boar maybe, hunted for food. A little before dawn she could hear soldiers shouting nearby, thrashing at the undergrowth, their dogs barking. When it turned silent again, she tried to cast the anxieties from her mind. But it was an eerie, lonely silence that made her falter as she reached for Marco’s hand. Grief slammed into her again and her eyes blurred. Marco was not there. Never would be there again.

  A few moments later, as the day began to break, she could make out Elsa curled up against Roberto, protecting him with her own body. Then Maxine went cold as she worked out that something was wrong. For several hours now, Roberto had not been coughing at all.

  Though pale still, the day had grown a little brighter and she watched as Elsa sat up, then knelt at Roberto’s side. She touched his face and bowed her head for a second or two before glancing up at Maxine, a tear sliding down her cheek.

  ‘Well,’ she whispered. ‘The Germans cannot hurt him now.’

  She held his cold hand to her lips one last time before rising to her feet, standing tall and proud for a moment, then walking away.

  Maxine moved to follow before she realized Elsa needed a few minutes alone.

  Soon they would have to find a way to get to the Castello but over the next few hours Elsa and Maxine covered Roberto’s body with branches and comforted each other as best they could. They had become two of the women who had lost, and there were so many of them, grieving for brothers, husbands, fathers, lovers and, perhaps most tragic of all, sons. All gone. Good men and bad. All victims of this terrible war. Maxine didn’t know if it made her feel better or worse to be one amongst so many in the monstrous regiments of grieving women.

  50.

  Castello de’ Corsi

  April 1944

  Maxine still had not reappeared with news of Lorenzo, but Sofia could not allow herself to sit and mope. She felt the moment had come to talk to Gabriella again, so she had summoned the girl and her mother to her personal salon. They now sat opposite her on the little chintz sofa looking a little nervous and out of place. Families had their own way of doing things and Sofia wasn’t fully convinced her intervention would help, but she had promised Carla help when she needed it. And although Carla was too proud to ask outright, she’d dropped some hints that Gabriella wasn’t facing up to things.

  ‘So,’ Sofia said, gazing at the girl with what she hoped was a compassionate expression. ‘Do you know when your baby is due?’

  Carla spoke up. ‘We think at the end of July.’

  ‘Better to let the girl speak for herself, Carla.’

  Carla nodded.

  In the knowledge that talking about this might be embarrassing for Gabriella, Sofia decided to approach the subject in a gentle, encouraging tone. ‘Is your mother correct?’

  Gabriella shrugged and shot a barely concealed but mutinous scowl at her mother.

  Sofia sighed in frustration, but carried on. ‘Gabriella, you do realize we are trying to help you?’

  Gabriella hung her head, but muttered, ‘Don’t need help.’

  ‘My dear, you are very young. You will have a baby to look after and no husband to help you. It isn’t going to be easy. Do you understand?’

  It looked as if Gabriella longed to glare at Sofia but did not dare, although the way she stuck out her chin plus the obstinate narrowing of her eyes clearly revealed her thoughts.

  ‘You are right,’ Sofia said in answer to what she’d picked up. ‘I’ve had no children of my own, but I’ve seen plenty who have. Being a mother is the hardest job of all.’

  As Gabriella glanced up, Sofia saw that the mulish facade was giving way a little and she began to glimpse the frightened girl behind the defiance.

  ‘Mother will help,’ Gabriella said, but her voice wobbled.

  Sofia shook her head. ‘Your mother has her duties to see to. She won’t have time to look after a baby. You alone will be responsible. I have expressly told your mother she is not to step in.’

  Gabriella twisted her head to look at Carla as if she couldn’t believe what she was being told. ‘But –’

  ‘No buts, I’m afraid. Naturally, you may ask for advice any time you want. We will always be here. Always willing, you see.’

  Gabriella fell silent, as if needing to take this in, although Sofia knew Carla had explained it all already. Maybe hearing it from her made it more real. Sofia didn’t want to scare the girl but knew, from what Carla had already said, that Gabriella viewed the baby as a toy, a doll to play with and put away when she’d had enough. But she needed to understand the significance of what she’d done. Not only because she’d had sex with the Fascist lad, which could have endangered her family and Sofia and Lorenzo too, and not only because of the shame she would cause her family by bringing an illegitimate child into the world, but far, far worse – because she had leaked information that may well have led to her own brother’s death. And Sofia wanted her to understand there were always consequences to actions. Carla didn’t want her burdened by guilt for the rest of her life, which was right, but there had to be genuine remorse. There had been no further sign of that since the day Gabriella had rather half-heartedly cut herself. Was she being too harsh? She didn’t believe Gabriella had really wanted to kill herself, but she had needed help, had wanted the truth to come out, and that had been a start.

  ‘Now, Gabriella,’ she began again. ‘I want to talk to you about what you told Maria.’

  The girl didn’t speak but stared out of the window, and there was still an air of insolence about the way she did it.

  ‘I’m talking about the partisans’ plans to blow up the railway tracks. You said you told Maria so she would inform her grandson, Paolo.’

  Gabriella glanced across and even though she didn’t meet Sofia’s eyes, Sofia felt it was a move in the right direction. ‘And that was because?’

  The girl blinked rapidly and then came out with it. ‘Because he said he loved me, but then he didn’t come. I was sad and I wanted him to come back and say he loved me again.’

  ‘Oh, my dear –’

  ‘Why didn’t he come back?’ Gabriella asked with such a look of sorrow in her eyes, Sofia pitied her.

  Without warning, Anna, clearly having overheard, burst into the room, glaring first at Carla and then at Gabriella. Carla and Sofia froze as Anna rushed at Gabriella, grabbed her by the hair and dragged her halfway acros
s the room.

  ‘You stupid, spoilt little vixen,’ Anna hissed and slapped Gabriella’s face so hard she fell to the ground. It happened so fast that nobody had time to intervene. Gabriella began to crawl towards Carla for safety but then Sofia realized Anna wasn’t finished. She bent down, about to haul her sister up again by her arm.

  Sofia rose swiftly to her feet. ‘Anna, stop! Stop right now,’ she commanded.

  Anna stopped, glancing round, and Sofia glimpsed the agony behind the anger in her eyes.

  ‘Don’t, Anna. It won’t help.’

  Anna’s fists were clenched, and anyone could see she longed to hit her sister again. Punch until the pain stopped. Except it wouldn’t. That kind of pain didn’t stop.

  She took a step towards her sister and cursed vehemently. ‘La puttana! She can’t be allowed to get away with it. I’m going to smash her stupid face until she understands what she’s done.’

  Sofia pulled Anna away and met with no resistance.

  ‘Contessa,’ she said, and her face twisted in utter anguish.

  ‘I know, but it won’t help. You know it won’t. Hurting Gabriella won’t bring Aldo back.’

  Anna took a deep breath and then, as Sofia let go of her arm, she hurled her anger at Carla. ‘You have always spoilt her. Now look.’

  Sofia stepped in. ‘I know you want someone to blame but this isn’t your mother’s fault, Anna. What would you have us do? Give her up to the partisans?’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘And what do you think they would do? She’s pregnant, for heaven’s sake.’

  ‘It would serve her right.’

  ‘No. Think about how you’d feel. She’s carrying your little nephew or niece.’

  ‘A filthy Blackshirt’s bastard,’ Anna hissed contemptuously. ‘Mother should have taken her to the witch in Buonconvento.’

  Sofia knew about the older woman who prescribed herbs for certain women’s conditions. No one had ever admitted going to her and yet everyone knew of her existence.

  ‘You know it’s a crime,’ Carla whispered. ‘Against God.’

  Anna watched in disdain as Gabriella curled up on the floor with her arms wrapped round her mother’s legs. ‘Stand up,’ she said in a tone that brooked no argument.

  As Gabriella winced and tried to make herself smaller, Carla stroked her hair.

  ‘Stop it, Mother. This is what she always does. Pretends to be a baby and you let her get away with everything. She needs to stand up.’

  Carla stopped stroking and whispered in Gabriella’s ear.

  ‘I said stand up,’ Anna repeated.

  ‘Please don’t hit me.’ Gabriella’s voice was babyish, wheedling, a tried and tested tone she’d used before.

  ‘Per amor del cielo. I’m not going to hit you. Stand up.’

  Gabriella struggled to her feet and Sofia, believing Anna wouldn’t be violent again, decided to let it run. This was family business and she considered leaving the room, but the whole situation was so finely balanced, she dared not disturb it.

  Once Gabriella was standing, Anna faced her. ‘Now repeat after me. I slept with a Fascist Blackshirt.’

  ‘I … slept with a Fascist …’ Gabriella paused.

  ‘Blackshirt.’

  ‘Blackshirt,’ Gabriella repeated, her voice trembling.

  ‘Even though I knew it might harm my own family.’

  Gabriella’s voice was now a whisper as she echoed Anna’s words. ‘Even though I knew it might harm my own family.’

  ‘I am having his baby, bringing shame on my family.’

  Gabriella repeated the words.

  ‘And I gave away information that led to my own brother’s death.’

  Gabriella was silent and oh so vulnerable. Sofia, horrified by the brutal way Anna was handling this, felt she should avert her eyes or put a stop to it but, mesmerized, couldn’t help watching the unfolding scene. Carla hadn’t been able to get through to Gabriella. Maybe this would work? She held her breath.

  ‘Say it.’ Anna was roaring now. ‘Say it.’

  Gabriella took a long, slow, shuddering breath. ‘And I gave away information …’ She burst into tears.

  ‘Finish the words. I gave away information that led to my own brother’s death.’

  Gabriella brushed her tears away with the back of her hand. ‘I … gave away information … that led to …’ And then, her shoulders heaving, she began to howl.

  To hear the deep, agonizing pain of it was unbearable and Sofia pressed her lips together to prevent the tears from forming. But her eyes remained moist and, instinctively wanting to wrap her arms around Gabriella, her heart broke at the sound of Carla’s sobs too.

  ‘That led to my own brother’s death,’ Anna said.

  ‘My … own … brother’s … death,’ Gabriella repeated between gulps of air and the sobs which kept on coming.

  ‘Good,’ Anna said, satisfied at last.

  Gabriella lifted her skirt to her face and wiped it. ‘I am sorry, Anna. Please believe me.’

  ‘That’s good too,’ Anna said, white-faced.

  Gabriella’s voice shook as she continued but a different, more grown-up Gabriella had emerged. ‘I know you can never forgive me and I don’t expect you to.’

  Anna stared at her sister and Sofia wondered what would happen next. Carla had stopped sobbing.

  ‘But I am so sorry. Truly.’

  For a few moments nobody spoke.

  ‘I will never forgive myself,’ Gabriella continued in a whisper.

  Anna’s face was expressionless, and you could hear a pin drop in the following silence.

  ‘I’ll go away. I don’t want to shame you all. I know there’s nothing I can do to make it right.’

  The tension in the room had become excruciating. Sofia had no idea where things would go from there. She took a long breath and exhaled very slowly, wondering if now was the time for her to intervene. Again, she decided not and glanced at the window, longing for air.

  But then Anna held out her arms. Sofia was so surprised she felt her mouth fall open and she saw Carla was staring, wide-eyed, too.

  ‘Come here,’ Anna said, and at first Gabriella just looked at her as if she didn’t understand. ‘Come here,’ Anna repeated.

  Gabriella’s face suddenly lit up, realizing what Anna meant, and she ran to throw herself into her sister’s arms.

  ‘You’re not going anywhere,’ Anna whispered as she hugged her. ‘We will deal with this as a family.’

  Gabriella sniffed as she pulled away to look at Anna. ‘I promise I will never let you down again.’

  ‘I’ll hold you to it.’

  Gabriella nodded.

  ‘Well now, time to dry your eyes. We can’t stand here all day. There’s work to be done.’

  Gabriella beamed at her and her face glowed as if an enormous weight had fallen from her shoulders.

  ‘I’m sorry for the intrusion, Contessa Sofia,’ Anna said, and Sofia almost laughed at the sudden formality.

  ‘Think nothing of it,’ she said.

  And then the sisters left the room, side by side, and a new era was born.

  ‘Well,’ Sofia said, gazing at Carla. ‘I wasn’t expecting that.’

  Carla shook her head in disbelief. ‘Me neither. Who would’ve thought it? Maybe Anna was right all along and I have been overindulging Gabriella?’

  ‘We both know you only did your best. You were doing whatever you could to protect a vulnerable child.’

  ‘Thank you. Today, I think Gabriella grew up.’

  ‘It will never be easy for her to live with her part in what happened to Aldo,’ Sofia said.

  ‘No. But at least she’s taken responsibility for it and can begin to … well … I’m not sure exactly what.’

  ‘Make amends?’

  Carla smiled. ‘Something like that.’

  51.

  A few nights later, just before midnight, Maxine and Elsa arrived at the Castello, filthy and worn-out. Sofia, alarmed
by her mother’s sunken cheeks, ran straight to her, but her mother’s eyes clouded and she seemed dazed as she stood shaking with fatigue. Sofia, desperate to ask where her father was, glanced at Maxine, and with eyes full of sorrow her friend shook her head. Instantly, Sofia knew. Her father was dead. In a trembling voice she asked Carla to run them each a bath and put out nightclothes, which she did. Then she carried soup and bread to their rooms and reported that they’d both gone to bed.

  During the long night, aeroplanes flew over almost incessantly but in between it was impossible to avoid hearing her mother’s muffled sobs. Sofia wanted to comfort her, but something told her Elsa needed to be alone. Meanwhile, the questions went around and around in her head. She needed to know exactly what had happened to her father and to hear if there was any news of Lorenzo. Plagued by wretchedness, she did not sleep.

  In the morning Sofia was in her little salon when Maxine appeared and stood in the doorway with Elsa right behind her, thin, wraith-like. Maxine looked as if she was trying to prepare for something and Sofia’s throat tightened as they exchanged a glance. Sofia remained standing and pressed her palm to the wall for support but indicated they should both sit. Maxine curled up on the blue velvet sofa while Elsa sat bolt upright on a hard-backed chair, her face ashen. Sofia turned first to Maxine and gave her a pleading look.

  ‘So?’ she asked, hardly daring to hear what was bound to be an agonizing account.

  Elsa began to speak in a flat, emotionless voice. ‘Roberto …’

  Sofia shoved her fist into her mouth to stop herself from crying out. When she spoke, it was almost a whisper.

  ‘They … they … killed him?’

  ‘Not exactly.’

  Elsa gave Maxine a look and nodded, seeming to give Maxine permission to continue.

  ‘Your father had to go into hiding, Sofia.’

  She blinked rapidly, hardly able to absorb this. ‘Hiding? Why?’

 

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