The Venice Sketchbook(75)

“No, nothing, really. I’d rather talk. There are things I want to say.”

“Of course,” he said. “You’re telling me goodbye, aren’t you? You have to go home before it’s too late and it’s no longer safe to travel through France. I will help if you like. I can arrange to have one of our people travel with you to make sure you get safely across Europe.”

I said nothing but started to walk across the little square to the edge of the canal, where a tree was providing a deep pool of shade. I perched on the low wall, and he came to sit beside me. Just below my reach, the waters of the canal slapped at the brick wall. A gondola glided past, the woman passenger reclining and holding on to a broad-brimmed straw hat. It was the perfect peaceful scene, contrasting with my inner turmoil.

“I will miss you so much,” Leo said, “but I will be happy when I know you are safely at home. You live in a small town, no? So you will not be at risk of bombs. At least we have nothing to fear in Venice from such things. It will be declared a city of heritage that nobody would dare to touch. And my father and father-in-law will become very rich transporting supplies for German armies, so all will be well for both of us.” The laugh he gave indicated that this wasn’t what he really felt.

“Leo,” I said, “this is what I have to talk to you about. I’m not going home.”

“You’re not? But you must, cara mia. While you can. What if Italy decides to join Germany, and you are an enemy? And your mother—she will go crazy with worry and fear if you are far away.” He touched my hand. “I don’t want to lose you, but I want what is best for you. Safest for you.”

Oh God. The touch of his hand on mine was overwhelming. I felt tears welling up.

“Leo, I can’t go home,” I said. “I’m going to have a baby. My mother can never know.”

He looked stunned, as if I had slapped him across the face. “A baby? Are you sure?”

I nodded. “Quite sure, I’m afraid. I’m finding it hard to believe, too. It seems so unfair. Just that once, and . . .” I turned my face away, unable to look at him.

His hand now gripped mine. “Don’t worry, cara mia. I will do all I can to help you. If I could marry you, I would. You know that. But as it is . . .” He took a deep breath, shaking his head.

“I understand. There is not much that you can do. But I have decided that I will stay until the child is born, then I will arrange for an adoption and go home. Nobody will ever need to know what happened here.”

“You will give your baby away? So easily? A good home, like the kittens?”

I wished he hadn’t brought them up. I turned on him. “What do you want me to do, then?” I heard my voice crack with emotion. “What do you suggest? I’m sure you understand that I can’t keep a child.”

His hand tightened over mine. “Let me think about this,” he said. “We will do what is best. Maybe . . . ,” he began, then stopped, leaving me wondering what “maybe” might have entailed. Instead he asked, “You have seen a doctor?”

“I am not going to get rid of the child, if that is what you are suggesting.”

He looked horrified. “Of course. Under no circumstance. I meant a doctor to confirm your condition.”

“There is no need. My condition is quite obvious to me.”

“I will arrange for you to see our family doctor. Quite confidential, you understand. At least I can make sure your health is taken care of. And money. You should not have to worry about money.”

“It’s all right,” I said. “I have enough. My stipend will keep me going through the year. The child will be born in early May, I think. Then I can recover and go home.”

“You talk about it so easily,” he said. “As if we were discussing a minor inconvenience.”

I looked away, my fingers moving over the rough brickwork. “I’ve had some time to think about it, Leo. At first I was in a desperate panic, but I realize I have to be rational. To have no personal feelings for a baby I can never keep. It’s better that way, isn’t it?”

“But hard,” he said, pausing a long time. “I want to do what I can. Of course I will help you to get home when the time is right. If Europe is in turmoil, then we will find a ship to take you to Malta or Gibraltar. A British island, yes?”

I nodded. The implications of staying were just becoming real. Not being able to cross a war-torn Europe. Being deposited on a British island. And what would I do there? Would there be a way to get me home?

“Or Switzerland,” Leo said. “Switzerland will never get involved in a war. Let us just hope that Herr Hitler respects Switzerland’s neutrality. It would be all too easy to invade and take it over.”

“Don’t.” I closed my eyes. “Everything seems so hopeless, doesn’t it?”

“We will get through it, I promise you,” he said, and embraced me.

For a moment I shut my eyes, feeling the warmth and security of his arms around me. Then I realized that we could be seen. I pushed him away. He was looking at me with great tenderness that almost melted my soul. I realized I had been thinking only of myself.

“But what about you?” I choked back tears. “They are calling up young men into the Italian army and navy.”

He gave me a swift grin. “One of the advantages of having a father-in-law who is hand in glove with Mussolini,” he said. “They will not touch my family. I am an asset to help with smooth transportation of supplies. I will remain here and keep an eye on you.”