‘You knew they’d find nothing,’ Maxine said, impressed.
Adriana nodded. ‘To protect us the partisans took everything to the woods and hid it.’
Afterwards it went quiet, then the news came that a lorryload of Fascists had attempted to wipe out the partisans in the woods but had failed miserably and ended up fighting among themselves. As for the partisans and their weapons, they had melted away. At least that attempted Fascist reprisal had failed, and although the Germans had come to search the village, that’s all they were likely to do. Their fight was heavily focused on the Allies now and they were not too bothered about supporting the Italian Fascists any more.
54.
May 1944
On the third of May they heard the awful news that there had been intense bombing over Florence again. With a heavy feeling, Sofia wondered if their ancient palazzo would still be standing. Then, soon after dawn a week later, a bomb fell so close it shook the villa at the Castello. Sofia rushed to her mother’s bedroom and found Elsa staring out of the window. ‘It could so easily have been us,’ she said. ‘It’s the luck of the draw, isn’t it?’
Later they found out it had destroyed a neighbouring hamlet where women and children now lay dead among the rubble. This apparently indiscriminate Allied bombing incited the villagers to anger. Why do they bomb our villages? they demanded, and Sofia had no answer, except to say the Allies needed to halt all German traffic and block their routes north. Sometimes they were not so accurate. Secretly, people wondered if the Allies trusted them or cared about them at all. They had changed sides. They had once fought for Germany. Maybe the Allies didn’t forgive them for that. Did it make them careless when they threw their bombs? Again, Sofia didn’t have an answer but, knowing how much the Allied armies were suffering, she forgave them.
They heard rumours of German SS spies infiltrating local partisan groups and also that denunciations in Florence were leading to the arrest of anti-Fascists. To save their own skins, neighbours with old grievances were informing on those they knew the Germans would consider traitors; even relatives would denounce their own families if someone was evading a draft or hiding a Jew.
She hadn’t seen much of James but knew from Maxine that he’d been working with the partisans, still receiving and transmitting information. She worried he might be staying away because of her.
But then came absolute joy on the nineteenth of May, when they were listening to the news on their illegal radio. All of them there in the kitchen – Sofia, Maxine, Elsa, Carla, Anna and Gabriella, their house full of women. They whooped and shrieked and then cried tears of hope and relief. At long last Cassino has fallen. The Gustav Line had been breached and the Allies were advancing towards the Adolf Hitler Line. Carla uncorked two bottles of the best red wine and poured everyone a generous glass. ‘To the future,’ she said, and Sofia silently prayed the Allies would reach Rome quickly and release Lorenzo. In her mind, he simply was not dead. Gabriella did a little dance, jumping up and down like a marionette, and they all drank and laughed as hope swelled and swelled until it filled the entire room. They were light and bright and happy.
Even Sofia’s mother was more cheerful after this news so the next day they decided to take a walk together, the first time Elsa had ventured beyond the walls of the Castello. Sofia whistled for the dogs, but they were getting older and sometimes favoured sleeping in the kitchen.
Sofia always kept her gun close, and today it was in her pocket. She calculated that if they took the track that circled the Castello they’d be safe from any bombs, although the sky was mercifully empty of planes. When they reached the woods Elsa sat on a fallen tree trunk and beckoned Sofia to join her. ‘I don’t have the energy I had any more,’ Elsa said.
‘I think you’ll outlast me, Mother.’
Elsa just smiled and looked up at the sky.
Sofia stared down at a line of ants making their way round her foot. ‘Do you really think they arrested Lorenzo because they found out what he was up to?’
‘Yes. We think so.’
‘Did somebody betray him?’ It hurt Sofia to say it and she groaned when her mother nodded.
‘How can people do that?’
‘It happens. It happened to your father too. They have their reasons sometimes, I suppose. Maybe to save their own skin.’
There was a long silence but for the sound of the warblers and jays who sang all day at that time of year.
Eventually Sofia stood and reached out a hand. ‘Shall we walk?’
Elsa took the proffered hand, getting to her feet, and they began to wander through the woods where sunlight was dancing a pattern through the branches overhead.
As they walked, Sofia could smell the wild mint, one of her favourite herbs, and pointed it out to her mother. ‘I love the taste of it in a fresh fruit salad, don’t you?’
‘Do you remember when you were little and we cooked together?’ Elsa asked.
Sofia smiled at the memories. ‘Of course.’
‘Sugar in the pasta!’ Elsa said, and dug Sofia in the ribs.
‘Oh my goodness. You told me to add a tablespoon of salt to the water in the pan.’
‘I did.’
‘And I added sugar. It was such an awful mistake. Remember Father’s face? He was horrified.’
Elsa patted her hand. ‘I do.’
‘And I was so utterly mortified, I hid under my bed.’
‘And then Roberto came to find you.’
‘He told me it didn’t matter, and mistakes were important because that’s how we learn.’
Her mother sighed. ‘Full of little sayings, he was.’
They fell silent for a moment and then Sofia thought of other meals they’d made together and eaten with her father at their dining-room table. She could smell the lemony polish her mother used and his favourite beans with wild mushrooms and garlic.
‘Remember shelling peas on the balcony?’ her mother asked.
‘Yes, and deep-frying zucchini flowers. I always seemed to burn them.’
‘The kitchen too! Or very nearly.’
‘Oh God! It wasn’t my fault the drying-up cloth was too close to the flame.’
‘No, it must have been the drying-up fairy.’
Sofia laughed. ‘Oh, won’t it be lovely when we can have good food again?’
‘I’d love some chicken liver bruschetta.’
‘Yes. Or rabbit in anchovy sauce. Although Carla served that not long ago. Rabbit one hundred ways.’
‘Where did she get the anchovies?’
‘Tinned ones she’d hidden.’ Sofia smiled, remembering the day Carla, Aldo and she had hidden the food.
‘She’s been very loyal, hasn’t she?’
‘It hasn’t been easy, especially since Aldo …’
‘No. And now this young daughter pregnant. How will she cope?’
Sofia decided not to tell her mother anything much about that. ‘Gabriella has grown up a lot recently. She’ll cope, or at least she’ll learn to.’
At the edge of the woods they walked out into a small field where the crops were growing so lush and green it filled Sofia with optimism.
‘Will it be the Americans who come this way, do you think?’ she said. ‘Or the British?’
‘The Americans will have chocolate.’
‘Let’s hope it’s them then.’ They both laughed and Sofia’s mouth watered.
They slowly made their way around the perimeter of the field.
‘It’s hot,’ Elsa said. ‘I should have brought my hat.’
‘We can turn back.’
There was a short silence and then Sofia asked how she was feeling.
Her mother’s eyes clouded. ‘I miss Roberto with every beat of my heart. Every minute of every day.’
‘I know.’
‘And yet life goes on. Somehow. I don’t think we ever understand how it possibly can. Yet it does.’
‘I don’t believe Lorenzo is dead. I think I’d feel it.’
&nb
sp; Her mother gave her such a sympathetic look, Sofia put an arm round her and held her close, her clever, sad little mother.
‘We’ll be all right, won’t we, Mamma? We’ll pull through.’
And when they got home, they heard the wonderful news: the Allies had broken through the Hitler Line. They hugged each other and Sofia glanced at the painting of San Sebastiano. Maybe he had been protecting them after all.
55.
June 1944
There had been fierce fighting south of Rome and, despite her recent optimism, Sofia couldn’t shift the feeling something awful was about to happen. Their local roads were being bombed so relentlessly now that none dared travel anywhere or even go for a walk. Day and night, in their dogged determination to halt the Germans, small groups of Allied fighter planes flew terribly low, targeting every moving thing. Such dangerous work – her heart went out to the pilots. And then, early on the fifth of June, she saw James again. She’d been expecting him at some point as the partisans had recently brought back the radio and transmitter to hide in the tunnels once more.
But she was surprised to see him in the kitchen at eight thirty in the morning. He looked as if he’d just tumbled out of bed, hair tousled, eyes still sleepy. He gave her the biggest, broadest smile before he spoke. ‘Haven’t you heard? I came right away.’
‘Heard what? My radio isn’t working properly.’
‘The Allies have entered Rome.’
‘No! Can it be true?’ Relief rushed through her as he nodded, and tears swamped her eyes. ‘Oh, thank God. Thank God. But how do you know?’
‘I have a small hidden radio of my own now.’
He was so animated and full of it he seemed unable to stop. ‘I was sure you’d want to know. The partisan units are ready.’
Sofia took a deep breath in and exhaled slowly, still hardly able to take in the news.
‘Mark my words. We’re after the bastards now.’
‘At last. I couldn’t sleep last night because of the sound of lorry after lorry heading north.’
‘German lorries. Retreating. They’re on the run. And we are right behind them. We’ve turned the tide.’
She gazed at him, suddenly aware of still being in her dressing gown. ‘Look, I’m sure you’d like some breakfast. We have eggs.’
‘Sounds perfect.’
‘Give me five minutes and I’ll join you. We can take it in the garden.’
‘And watch the falling bombs?’
She smiled. Even that seemed funny today though, really, it wasn’t. ‘I’ll ask Carla to serve breakfast outside.’
When she came back down, she found James already sitting at the table in the garden, nursing a boiling hot grain coffee.
‘Will the Americans bring real coffee?’ she asked.
‘I think they’ll be coming up west of here, but you never know. We’re more likely to be bringing tea!’
She laughed then glanced across at him as he sipped his brew. ‘You’ll be leaving when the British arrive?’
‘Yep, we’ll take the equipment further north.’
‘You won’t be able to go home first?’
He pulled a face. ‘I doubt it. But maybe. For a short break.’
‘I’ll miss you,’ she said, and really meant it.
There was a long silence during which she thought about the friendship between them and how much she had valued it.
‘I’m so sorry if I gave you the wrong impression,’ she added, feeling a little awkward. ‘It’s been … well, I guess it’s been difficult this last year.’
‘I know.’
‘I still love my husband very much and I feel sure he’s alive. I think I’d know it if he weren’t.’
‘Don’t apologize. There’s no need. I have my fiancée at home to think about too, but war brings people together in unexpected ways.’
‘Or drives them apart.’
‘Either way, emotions become –’
‘Heightened? Tangled?’
‘Raw, I think. None of us know how we’ll respond when our backs are up against the wall.’
She smiled, thinking of that night hiding on the staircase. ‘In our case, almost literally.’
‘You were lonely and I was too.’
She gazed at his warm eyes. ‘Can we just let it go?’
‘Absolutely. My dear woman, I’m a man of my word. I hope you know that above all I’m your friend and will be your friend for as long as you need me to be.’
He took both her hands and enclosed them within his own.
‘Do you believe Lorenzo could still be alive?’ she asked.
‘Anything is possible.’
‘With the Allies now in Rome, will we know soon?’
‘I imagine it may be a bit chaotic at first, but yes.’
There was a pause after which he gave her back her hands and they sat in silence for a few minutes more.
‘Thank you … for everything,’ she said.
‘No, thank you.’
They both took deep, long breaths, bringing that part of their conversation to a close.
‘Now,’ he said. ‘On to practical matters.’
‘I know, it’s time. No more soul-searching today.’
‘We need to send the Allies detailed information about the German situation hereabouts,’ he said.
‘The radio transmitter?’
‘At the top of the tower again, if you don’t mind. It transmits so much more reliably from there.’
She told him it was fine and, after he’d gone, she saw the light had changed, with a different more optimistic atmosphere in the air. She felt changed too, the lightness of her step as she walked through the garden reflecting the anticipation she was beginning to feel. Everything was going to be all right. The sense of something awful being about to happen had vanished. She felt liberated from the gloom of the war and from her fear for Lorenzo. He would be all right. June the fifth, the memorable day the Allies entered Rome – the beginning of the liberation of the city and the day she began to look to the future.
56.
From the top floor of the house, Sofia and Carla watched the Allied bombers swooping low over the German convoys heading north, cheering when the bombs dropped and the planes arced away unscathed. They were brave those pilots who dared to fly so low over an area now crawling with German troops and trucks. Sofia felt a new and stronger determination, and with it the expectation she would hear news of Lorenzo soon. For her, hope was a shadow that daren’t quite come out to show itself fully, but it was there, and it was edging closer.
During the previous few weeks the Fascist cause had finally collapsed. To the south of the Castello hundreds of partisans waited to ambush German vehicles as they retreated. At the Castello the talk was of bridges exploding, railways being destroyed and roads becoming impassable. This intense partisan action had followed a broadcast by General Alexander urging everyone to play their part in halting the Germans. For people under occupation, as they had been, it was their country and their homes they were desperate to protect.
From the south the fighting was heading their way and Sofia held her breath when, one morning at dawn, she heard planes circling their small village followed by cannon fire and shelling. As the house shook, two perfume bottles crashed from her dressing table and her Arpège shattered. A spicy, sensual scent rose to fill the room with hints of rose, jasmine and lily of the valley. She instantly felt Lorenzo’s arms around her, his head nuzzling her neck where she’d dabbed the perfume. The gorgeous scent, so completely at odds with the sound of bombs falling, seemed almost improper. But her mind flooded with memories of Lorenzo handing her the first exquisitely packaged parcel back in 1927. Ever since then the perfume had been an absolute favourite. Now, as she wiped tears away and bent to pick up the fragments of black glass, she spotted she’d cut herself. As the blood dripped from her finger she stood still, watching it in a daze. She had not been without one of those little black bottles for seventeen years and, now the last one was
gone, it felt like an ill omen.
They were all under intense stress, day and night, so Sofia asked Anna to knock on doors to tell the villagers the Castello manor house cellars were available as a refuge for anyone who might feel safer underground. For several hours Sofia, Anna and Carla lugged blankets, pillows, even old mattresses down to the cellars. They carried down pitchers of water, the few loaves they had, some bottled fruit and an oil lamp. Sofia feared it wouldn’t be enough. Before nightfall, Sofia and Anna, aware of looters, checked all the windows and found only a single broken one, two floors up. No one could get in there, so they left it as it was.
In the evening the villagers streamed in. Sofia settled the dogs then took the villagers through the large basement, past a warren of dark passageways, alcoves and secret rooms to the deepest cellar. The temperature dropped as they descended. From the cellar they could access the escape tunnels, but she didn’t show them those. She looked at their thin, exhausted faces and prayed they would all be safe. Sara was there and Federica with her little boy. Some came only to steal a peek at the cellars and one or two wouldn’t come at all, Maria among them. When Carla asked why not, she said she’d rather not be buried alive. The rest of the old, the young, even two babies, settled themselves in, although the babies screamed and screamed until Sofia felt she’d rather take her chance outside. The other children slept or played games and she worried about how they would feed them all. She was worried about Maxine too. She hadn’t been there at all, not for days, and she tried to remember when she’d last seen her. Was it after the Monticchiello victory? No, it must have been the day Cassino had fallen.
Despite the blankets, it was not only cold in the cellar but damp too. When two of the children, a tall boy of about thirteen and a smaller boy, headed down towards the door to one of the tunnels, Sofia called them back and ordered them not to go down there again. The tunnels formed a network, a labyrinth spreading under the village, and if you didn’t know where you were going, you could be lost forever.
The Tuscan Contessa Page 29