The Venice Sketchbook(109)

He was still frowning. “Are you going back to the city now?”

“I’m worried about old Umberto,” I said. “Where do you think he has gone? Would the contessa have taken him, too?”

“Hardly likely,” he said. “I expect the old man has returned to his family. He has a daughter living nearby, you know. On the island of Vignole.”

We stood looking at each other.

“Well, I expect you want to get on with selecting paintings for safekeeping,” I said. “Would you like me to stay and help you?”

“That’s not necessary,” he said. “I need to take measurements. Have crates built.”

“I think you should not waste any time. The place is crawling with Germans. If I were you, I’d remove the most valuable pieces and store them where they can’t readily be found. Maybe in the gardener’s quarters? Or Umberto’s old room?”

“That’s not a bad idea,” he said. “I wonder if they are open or if I can find the keys?”

“I believe they kept the spare keys by the kitchen door,” I said. I had no idea if this was true, but he nodded and to my relief headed down the hall towards the kitchen and servants’ quarters. I sprinted up the stairs, keeping as quiet as possible.

“Hanni, come with me now,” I said. I put my fingers to my lips and tiptoed her down the stairs. “Go out into the garden and hide amongst those big bushes by the gate,” I said. “I’ll come in a minute.”

“What about my things?”

“I’m afraid we have to leave everything. I expect I can come back for them later, but now it’s too dangerous. Just go.”

She darted out of the front door, and I watched her until she disappeared amongst the shrubbery. I didn’t waste another minute but went through to the library. I took the cardboard folder from the drawer, removed the drawings from it and stashed them under my coat. Then I went back towards the kitchen, to find Vittorio coming towards me.

“You were right. There is a bunch of keys. I will try one for the garden storage place.”

“I couldn’t find her address book, unfortunately,” I said. “So I must head home. There are so few vaporetti these days.”

“It was a pleasure to see you again, Miss Browning,” he said, giving me a little bow.

“The feeling is mutual, Signor Scarpa.”

I walked out of the door and down the front path, feeling his eyes still upon me. I heard the door closing and breathed a sigh of relief. When I was close to the front gate, I paused, checking my surroundings, until I was sure that nobody was in sight. Then I whispered for Hanni. She came out. I took her hand, and we walked briskly down the boulevard.

“Listen,” I said. “If anyone asks you, you are my little sister, Elena Alioto. Capisce?”

She nodded, her eyes still wide with fear.

“They will take me, too, when they find out I am Jewish?”

“Don’t worry, my darling. I will protect you,” I said. “This will all be over soon, I promise. Until then, you must be brave.”

There was a crowd waiting at the vaporetto dock, which was good news. It meant a boat might be coming soon. And sure enough, it arrived. It was horribly overcrowded, but they let us all squeeze aboard. I found a corner and pushed Hanni into it, hidden behind me, until we reached the San Marco stop. Then we went home without incident.





CHAPTER 44


Juliet, Venice, September 1943

That evening I tucked Hanni into my bed. I sat beside her, stroking her hair as her eyes closed, trying not to think about how close she had come to being taken to that awful camp. And what about my dear contessa? Surely she could pull strings in the right places to be released. She was, after all, a rich and powerful woman, a benefactor of the city.

It was as if Hanni could read my thoughts. Her eyes opened and she looked up at me. “She will be all right, won’t she? They’ll let her go?”

“I’m sure she will, darling. Don’t worry. Get some sleep.”

She drifted off, but I sat up, staring out of the windows at the moon over the Giudecca Canal. Such a beautiful, peaceful scene, until I spotted a German gunboat. I couldn’t use the radio. Hanni would see, and I couldn’t risk her being questioned. So I watched until it disappeared into the darkness. I found it hard to believe that the contessa was gone. She had felt herself to be so safe, and yet they had come for her, just like all the other Jews. It hadn’t mattered that she was the wife of an Italian count or that she was very rich. She was Jewish. That was all that mattered.

And then suddenly I thought, Someone must have betrayed her. And I knew instantly who it was. I had seen the gleam of greed and acquisition in his eyes. He had betrayed her and would now help himself to her art. I realized now why I had never liked him, never trusted him. I also realized what a narrow escape Hanni had had. He wanted all Jews locked up. He had come back for her!

I had looked around cautiously when I returned home, making Hanni wait in the shadows across the street until I was sure nobody was watching. Then I whisked her inside and hurried her up the stairs. While she admired the view from my windows, I took out the drawings I had smuggled out of the contessa’s villa. Even my amateurish eye saw that one or two were indeed priceless. I slipped them amongst my own sketches, putting them into the secret drawer in my desk, just in case.