by Gill Vickery
‘It’s in Botticelli’s style,’ Nico said.
‘Well done, Nico!’ Mrs Bax beamed. ‘Better still, it’s by Botticelli himself.’
‘No!’ Now Nico understood why Mrs Baxendall wanted it kept a secret: it was going to cause a sensation when news of the unknown frescoes got out.
Mrs Bax plumped down on a pew and patted the one next to her. Nico sat.
‘I was rummaging around in the house archives a few years ago and came across a contract for this cycle of paintings. By the time Botticelli was commissioned to paint them his skill had become an expensive commodity. It meant he could choose his own subject rather than have his client tell him what to do.’
Mrs Bax waved her stick at the fresco. ‘And this is the result: a fresco, in a chapel, of the only Bible story that makes no mention of God. A story of sex and violence and the power of beauty.’ Mrs Bax beamed. ‘It must’ve offended the authorities terribly. D’you know the story of Queen Esther?’
Nico shook his head.
Jade’s brain didn’t seem able to work properly. ‘Our nonno? Betrayed Gaetano?’
Amber laughed. ‘Are you crazy or what?’ Shock had made her switch to English.
‘I’m sorry, I don’t understand these words,’ Dario said.
‘Our nonno was a hero,’ Jade insisted in Italian.
Dario shook his head. ‘The whole town knows that Roberto Volpe was a traitor. The old people, they still talk about it.’
Suddenly Jade knew who the elderly people at the restaurant were – the ones who’d inspected Luisa so carefully; Luisa, who strongly resembled her father, who was Caterina’s double and who spoke Italian with the accent of the region.
Jade spoke to Amber in rapid English so Dario wouldn’t grasp what she was saying. ‘Those old people at the restaurant? The Signora set us up! They were ex-partisans. That’s why they were staring at Mum – they were checking her out!’
‘What? You saying you believe all this traitor crap?’
Jade hesitated. She wasn’t sure any more.
Amber grabbed Jade and shook her violently. ‘Tell me! Tell me you don’t believe it!’ she yelled.
‘Get off me!’ Jade pushed Amber away and she staggered against a stall and knocked over an old beam propped against it. It crashed against the stairs sending a papery lump suspended over the stairwell swinging. It started to vibrate and hum.
‘Calabrone!’ Dario yelled as a huge black and yellow hornet dropped from the lump and circled angrily. More followed in a heaving vortex.
‘This way!’ Dario grabbed the twins and shoved them to the outside door. He shook it as hard as he could. ‘It’s stuck!’
The three of them battered at the door. It burst open, showering them with dust and crumbling mortar as they stumbled into the courtyard. A small, hard object hit Jade on the head and clattered to the floor. She stooped and picked it up. It was a tin.
Dario spun round and slammed the door shut. ‘Quick, come on!’
Jade pushed the tin into her jeans pocket and ran after Dario, across the courtyard and up the steps to the farmhouse door.
‘Here,’ Mrs Bax said, ‘is Xerxes, King of the Persians, receiving Esther. She’s come to plead for the lives of her people who’ve been betrayed by her uncle, Haman.’
Xerxes was dressed like a Renaissance prince and Esther, in a filmy gown, looked as if she’d strayed in from the Primavera.
‘How do you know for sure this is Xerxes and Esther?’ Nico asked.
‘Because it follows the story exactly: “The King held out to Esther the golden sceptre that was in his hand. So Esther drew near.”’
There was a chuckle from the scaffolding and Edoardo Rossi said, ‘Also, the contract you found promised Botticelli eighty-four florins for frescoes depicting the story of Esther.’
Mrs Bax was unfazed. ‘With thirty-five florins to be paid if he – and I quote – “. . . will paint all the faces and all the said parts of the figures from the waist upwards and that the mixing of the colours will be done by the said master himself.” The contract’s very specific.’
Edoardo rested his forearms on the scaffolding and leaned over. ‘To the left will be scenes of Xerxes at a great banquet, summoning Vashti, his queen. She refuse to come and he banish her for disobedience. Then Xerxes, he chooses Esther for his new queen. After that comes the painting I am working on now.’
‘I don’t get why it was plastered over,’ Nico said.
‘Church authorities probably though it unseemly,’ Mrs Bax said. ‘My guess is the fresco shows Esther and all the other beautiful young virgins, with the eunuchs teaching them how to make themselves appealing for Xerxes.’
Edoardo continued the story: ‘Then there will be a painting of Esther tricking Haman and making him lead Esther’s father, mounted on the king’s horse, through the city of Shushan. And last all,’ Edoardo thrust his brush at a high point over the door, ‘there will be the hanging of Haman and the great celebrating of Esther’s people.’
Nico stared at the place on the wall where Haman’s hanging was hidden under centuries of grey plaster. It was exactly the spot where Alessandro Lupo had found the dangling corpse in The Shattered Mirror.
My role, from late 1943, was to cause as much disruption to the enemy as possible and to help organise attacks on specified road and rail targets. To do this successfully I was ordered to liaise with the partisans and provide tactical support. It was hoped that our actions would divert their forces away from the Allies’ highly secret planned area of attack in the south. It worked.
I settled into my new home. Gaetano’s family shared all they had with me and made me comfortable in the stable where I – and my radio equipment – shared sleeping quarters with the oxen and a mule. I soon got used to the animals’ smell, which inevitably transferred itself to me. Gaetano sniffed me with approval one day as we sat among the snowy hills watching for enemy movements. ‘You whiff of hay and dung. At last you smell like a real peasant, Englishman.’ The boy was an excellent companion whose dry wit often made me laugh. We quickly became friends.
The winter and spring of 43–4 was bitter and there was little to eat. Without the chestnuts that provided flour for the ubiquitous polenta we might well have starved. Many were close to it. Everyone shared what he could and when, occasionally, the Allies’ ammunition drops included food – especially chocolate and cigarettes – the rejoicing was profound. One drop even included a photograph of my wife, Rebekah, and baby daughter, Emily, affectionately known as “Millie”. The picture was wrapped in a map of the area. I didn’t need a map by this time; I knew the terrain well thanks to the partisans. I passed the photograph round the dinner table one evening and it was received with cries of admiration from the women and grunts of approval from the men. We each of us knew that that was what we were fighting and dying for: our children.
We used the arms provided by the Allies, as well as those stolen from the Germans and the Italian army, to carry out increasingly successful acts of sabotage. The more successful we became the more savagely we were hunted by the Black Brigades. Still, we stayed safe and undisturbed.
In March, we planned our most ambitious project: blowing up a railway bridge and the train that crossed it loaded with arms and carrying troops. It was dangerous, not only because of the act itself but because there was a strong possibility of reprisals. One night, our group – the Uccelli Squad – were sitting round the table as usual, maps and diagrams spread all over it, planning the attack when young Gaetano came in, his face drawn and white.
His father stood. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘It’s Roberto.’
‘He’s dead?’ Though the stoical farmer was impassive I knew he was fearful for his foster son.
‘No! It would be better if he were.’
‘He’s at the Villa Triste?’
It was no wonder t
he old man had paled; the Villa Triste was a place of horror where Partisans were routinely tortured.
‘No, you don’t understand, it’s worse.’ Gaetano flung himself onto the bench.
Worse than death or the Villa Triste?
‘Explain yourself,’ the farmer demanded.
Every eye was on the boy. ‘He’s been seen in Florence. He’s joined the Black Brigade.’
CHAPTER XVI
THE SOUND OF a scooter engine starting up made Jade and Dario turn at the top of the steps.
‘My motorino!’ Dario stared in disbelief at Amber riding out of the courtyard.
Jade ran down the steps shrieking, ‘Amber, don’t be so stupid!’ It was no good, her sister was already out of earshot, disappearing fast down the track through the chestnut trees.
‘What is she doing?’ Dario yelled. ‘Where is she going?’
‘No idea.’ Jade ran back up the steps two at a time and burst into the room where Caterina and Gaetano sat at the table, The Book of Memories between them.
‘It’s Amber, she’s run off!’ Jade said.
‘On my motorino,’ Dario said.
Caterina leaped to her feet. ‘Does she know how to ride one?’
‘We ride trail bikes – it’s not that different,’ Jade said.
‘Different enough,’ Dario said. He glared at Jade. ‘Has she got a licence?’
Jade shook her head.
Caterina flapped Jade and Dario out and helped Gaetano hobble down the steps to a battered three-wheeled truck. By the time Jade and Dario were belted into Caterina’s car and she had started up the engine, Gaetano’s little blue Api was already bouncing along the track. It slowed Caterina down and Jade seethed with impatience. There was no sign of Amber or Dario’s yellow scooter.
Mrs Baxendall sent Teo to drive Nico back to Florence and as soon as the car hit the main road into the city, Teo began driving competitively. A black Yamaha swooped past. Teo’s jaw tightened, he stamped his foot down and the rust bucket of a car surged forward. It swerved violently round a Dutch lorry. The lorry hooted, loudly and melodiously. Teo took no notice, doggedly following the flash scooter swinging smoothly in and out of the traffic. Nico braced himself as the old car jerked wildly between lorries, buses, cars. It’s not a contest, Nico thought. Being macho isn’t going to impress anyone if you get us killed.
A fresh spurt of speed had them racing a Norbert Dentressangle lorry, overtaking it, diving in front, getting trapped behind yet another lorry. Teo kept swinging violently out to the left to try and catch sight of the black Yamaha. Nico clung on grimly.
Jade strained to see Amber. ‘There!’
‘I see her.’ Jade was jerked from side to side as Caterina drove recklessly round the curve bending into the outskirts of Florence. The traffic was speeding up, getting impatient with smaller vehicles, hooting and blaring at scooters. The stop-go of traffic made it easy for Amber to weave in and out and Gaetano’s Api was small enough to catch up and follow closely. Caterina dodged here and there while the other drivers honked and swore. She closed in on the yellow scooter.
A black Yamaha swept by with a jeering blare and a decrepit old car rumbled after it with a furious roar, swooping across traffic streaming round the wide arc in the road. Both vehicles headed straight for Amber. ‘No!’ Jade screamed.
With a growl, Gaetano’s Api popped out like a cork from a fizzed-up bottle and pushed its way between Amber and the Yamaha and its pursuing car.
A bus appeared, filtering in recklessly. It swerved, missed Gaetano and swerved again to avoid Amber. Brakes and gears shrieked, tyres screamed, horns blasted.
The old car lurched to a halt, stopping just short of the low garage wall. Amber and Gaetano shot into the forecourt. The Api squealed to a stop, spinning wildly and crashed sideways against the wall. Amber was thrown from the yellow scooter and it toppled on to her. Jade screamed again as Caterina, white-faced, screeched into the forecourt and slammed on the brakes. Jade threw herself out of the car and ran to her sister. She dragged the scooter away.
Amber’s eyes were closed and she lay motionless, her right leg sickeningly twisted.
Jade took her sister’s limp hand. ‘Please be all right, Amber. Please say something. Please, please.’ She looked round wildly for help.
Miraculously Mum and Dad were running towards her with Hattie and James close behind.
‘She’s hurt!’ Jade clung to Amber’s hand.
Mum knelt down and stroked Amber’s tumbled hair away from her forehead. Dad crouched next to Jade and put his arm round her. ‘She’ll be all right, love. She will.’
Jade felt safer in her father’s arms and her mind began to clear. ‘Where did you come from?’ she asked, though she kept looking at Amber the whole time. She was so still. Really, really still.
‘The bus from Torre del Lago, the one that nearly . . .’ Kevin couldn’t finish.
A wail of sirens made them swing round to see a police car screaming up to Gaetano’s truck pressed against the back wall of the forecourt. A little crowd, with Caterina and Dario at the front, was standing by the open door and Jade could see Gaetano slumped back in his seat, his face bloody, his eyes closed. He’s dead, Jade thought, her stomach lurching sickly. Then she saw his hand move in a sharp gesture that meant, Leave me alone.
The old car that had almost hit the front wall had its doors open too. For some reason, Nico was sitting on the low wall next to it.
‘What’s Nico doing here?’
‘Nico?!’ Hattie looked from Mum to Nico and back again.
‘Go,’ Mum said.
Hattie sprang up and ran to Nico.
‘You go as well, mate,’ Dad said and James sprinted away to join Hattie just as two ambulances bawled into the forecourt.
It’s strange, Nico thought dreamily, the way all cities and towns are ugly on the fringes. Oddly, he was drawing, his pencil outlining concrete apartment blocks, power lines strung across the road, the weedy grass growing round the garage wall . . . Someone embraced him. ‘Nico!’ Mum was hugging him.
He hugged her back. ‘What’s happening?’
‘Amber’s hurt, the paramedics are sorting her out,’ James said. ‘And that old man in the van. We’ll get them to give you the once-over as well.’
‘No need. I’m fine.’
‘Are you sure you’re not hurt?’ Mum asked.
‘Yes, honest.’ He looked round, wondering where Teo was and saw him with the group surrounding Amber.
‘How is she?’ Teo asked.
In her dazed state, it didn’t seem odd to Jade that he was there too.
‘Not very good but it could be worse,’ Dad said. ‘Her leg looks badly broken and she’s unconscious but she’s breathing fine and doesn’t seem to have any other injuries.’
Jade had no idea how her father knew this; the paramedics had spoken in Italian and no one had translated for Dad.
A hand touched Jade’s shoulder. It was Dario. Jade jumped up and pulled him to one side.
‘How’s your sister?’ he asked.
Jade told him. ‘How’s Gaetano?’
‘He’s not so bad – he has to go to the hospital though, because he’s old.’
‘Will you tell him, thank you – for saving Amber?’
Dario nodded. ‘I have to go – Mamma and I are driving to the hospital.’ He kissed Jade formally, mechanically, and went back to Caterina.
After treating Amber, the paramedics lifted her into the ambulance and Mum climbed in beside her. Dad hugged Jade briefly, saying, ‘We’re going with Amber.’ He nodded towards Teo. ‘That man, he works for Mrs Baxendall, he’s agreed to follow with you, OK?’
Jade was still too dazed to say more than ‘yes’; explanations about already knowing Teo would come later. Jade shivered as the ambulance made its raucous way out of the courtya
rd and Teo gently led her away. Despite its rough ride, the old car started up with no problem and a very subdued Teo drove cautiously through the throng of bystanders who’d come to gawp. Jade glimpsed Nico sitting on the wall, Hattie to one side, James to the other.
That was all right then. All she had to worry about now was Amber.
Nico drew steadily. It was soothing. Mum went to the loo and James bought Nico a bottle of water from a shop next to the garage. He drank it in hasty gulps.
‘Hey, hey, take it easy, Son, you’ll make yourself heave!’ James pulled the bottle away and water slopped onto Nico’s drawing book. He began to laugh.
‘What’s up?’ James asked.
‘Nothing. I don’t get it, that’s all.’
‘What?’
‘Mum. She goes ape about what might happen and when something does, she’s calm.’
‘She’s got too much imagination, like you, but she’s a good woman, and brave.’
Nico didn’t know what to say to that. He wasn’t used to the muppet James being a normal human being.
‘Here’s the taxi.’ James waved.
‘What taxi?’
‘The one I ordered to take us back to the apartment. What’s the Italian for, you took your time?’
‘No idea.’ It was reassuring, having James back to his supercilious self.
Jade sat in the sombre waiting room. Outside Mum and Dad talked intently to the medics. The hospital was quiet and the conversation hushed. Not like the confusion and chaos when they’d first arrived with ambulances and police sirens blaring. Gaetano and his family had been sent to another part of the hospital and soon after Jade was almost sure she’d glimpsed Mrs Baxendall with Signora Minardi. Then there’d been the police, definitely the police, with their questions about why Amber was riding a scooter illegally and without a licence or insurance.
Jade thumped her head back against the wall. She was in big trouble yet all she’d wanted was to meet their Italian family and bring them news of Nonno. So had Amber.