The Venice Sketchbook(110)

I have kept Hanni hidden up in the flat. In truth I hardly go outside myself. I told Francesca that she was the granddaughter of a fisherman I had met and he wanted her safe in the city away from the Nazis. Francesca, not being overly endowed with curiosity, seemed to accept this with no problem. I told Hanni to talk as little as possible so that Francesca did not hear the difference in accent. I didn’t think she would notice, but one couldn’t be too careful.

October 18

Life is becoming increasingly difficult. Germans patrol the streets. There are no more deliveries of coal. I thank God and the consul for my little electric fire, which keeps the bedroom warm. Also that the electricity remains on at least part of every day. When it is on, I heat hot water bottles and put them into my bed for the night. Food has also started to become a problem. Without the contessa’s produce, we are using the last of my backup supplies—pasta and beans like the rest of the city.

After Hanni had been with me for two weeks, I dared to make a trip to the contessa’s villa. The fact that she hadn’t returned convinced me that she was now in a camp. The walls had been stripped of paintings, but the larder had not been raided. I went around the garden and picked some late greens and early lemons. I came back with as many supplies as I could carry. That night Hanni and I had a feast of ham and spinach and chocolate biscuits. I opened our last bottle of wine. I remember it clearly, every minute of it. I think it was the last time I experienced happiness.

October 19

The next day a note arrived for me, pushed under my door. I had no idea who delivered it. It said, MEET ME. MY TREE. 8 PM. TUES.

That was all. Unsigned. Printed. But it had to be Leo. Who else could it be? Unless it was a trap. How could he be here, after all this time? And yet who else would mention a special tree, a hiding place? And so at seven thirty I set out, walking over the Accademia Bridge, behind St Mark’s to the Giardini. I passed very few people along the way. Now that the city was patrolled by Germans, it was not wise to be caught out in the streets. But I knew the city well enough to avoid the bigger streets that soldiers might frequent. It was a long walk, and I was breathless by the time I entered the darkness of the gardens. Trees and bushes loomed, looking menacing in the occasional lamplight. There were piles of damp leaves underfoot. At least it wasn’t raining. That was one blessing.

I found the tree with no hesitation. The bushes around it had not been trimmed for some years, partly hiding the statue. I had walked past it several times, pausing to look at the sad face of the Greek god as the sea ate away more of his body, and I had remembered every detail of that magical night with Leo when I was eighteen and the world was full of romance and possibility. I walked warily past the statue, still not daring to hope it was Leo, still half expecting a trap. If I was taken, what would happen to Hanni? Surely Francesca would look after her?

Then I heard the whisper, only just discernible over the night breeze from the lagoon.

“Julietta?”

I squeezed past the bushes that were now invading the hiding space between the statue and the big tree, and he was there. I sensed, rather than saw him. “Leo!”

We fell into each other’s arms, kissing with hunger and urgency.

“Where have you been? I thought you were dead.”

“Listen,” he said. “I have no time. I am a wanted man. A boat comes for me in a few minutes, but I wanted to do this one thing for you: to give you a way to safety. Here.” He thrust an envelope into my hands. “This is how you get to Switzerland. Go now. Do not wait another second. As the Germans continue to become more desperate, they are also becoming more ruthless. If one of their number is killed, they will round up whole towns and machine gun the entire population. And you will be shot as an enemy spy. You must go. Do you understand?”

“Yes, but you? Why are you wanted?”

“I have been working for the Allies for a long time,” he said. “You know my feelings about Mussolini and how wrong it was for us to be involved in this senseless war. I wanted to do something about it. Now I have been betrayed. It is only a matter of time before they find me.”

“Then come with me to Switzerland, now.”

“I wish I could, but I cannot. I must make my way back to the Allies in Umbria. But for you—I have a letter from your family in Stresa, a travel pass to visit your dying grandmother. You remember I told you of Stresa? It is on Lake Maggiore. At the other end of the lake is Locarno. Switzerland. Safety. You go to Stresa and you pay a boatman to take you. You still have money?”

“Yes, I have taken money from my account to keep for emergencies.”

“I have put more into that envelope. Take it and go—now.”

“Angelo,” I began. “Have you seen him?”

“No, but I’m told he is safe at our villa. You gave him up, then. You did the right thing. I am more proud of you than you can ever know. At least our son is safe, whatever happens.”

How could I tell him that his family snatched Angelo from me? But at least I knew he had not ordered it. It was one small comfort.

“Leo”—I took his face into my hands—“I love you. Please take care. Come and join me.”

“I will. I promise. As soon as I can. Go to Locarno and wait for me. I’ll find you there.”

“Yes.” I felt an absurd swell of happiness.

“Go now. I won’t leave this place until you are safely far away. And take care on the way home.”