PALERMO, APRIL 1860
Carina opened her eyes and looked up at the ceiling of her bedroom in Palermo. Her heart was heavy and she longed for Ben. She missed his warmth and dark head on the pillow. It was the same every morning. Depression faded with the activity of the day, but Ben was never far from her thoughts. Be patient, she told herself. You only left Monteleone ten days ago. It’s not yet time.
Dawn sneaked in through the shutters and she cast her mind back to her arrival home. Despite endless roadblocks and checking of papers, the journey had passed without incident. At the city gates soldiers with foreign accents challenged them and Baron Riso took her on to the consulate alone. Jane and Mr Goodwin were waiting and she was whisked off to the Palazzo Denuzio, where she found her grandmother with Paulo and GabrieIla.
‘It was terrible not knowing what had happened to you.’ Nonna held her hand tight. ‘We were frantic with worry until your letter arrived. Thank God our prayers have brought you safely home.’
And it must have seemed like an answer to prayer when she walked in that night, Carina thought. Her grandmother’s eyes never left her face and she had to answer a hundred questions before she was allowed to bed. She learnt that Anna Maria was rescued by a fellow pilgrim and Prince Scalia had taken personal charge of the search. Troops were deployed deep into the Interior, hundreds of suspects arrested and interrogated but to no avail. It was as if she had vanished into thin air – and only when they heard from Greta Mazzini, did they know she was safe.
Carina met with Carlo and Anna Maria the following morning. Her aunt wept and declared it a miracle she was alive, while Carlo was permitted to ask only the mildest questions. Carina would submit a written statement to the head of police, Nonna insisted, but nothing more.
‘Use your influence, for once, Carlo! The child has suffered enough without having to face the trials of the Inquisition. I demand this matter goes no further.’
Her uncle reluctantly complied, and a report was duly submitted. Paulo seemed the only one unconvinced by her story. He did not contradict her, but there was a mocking look in his eyes and Carina wondered if he believed a word she said.
Palermo was an occupied city and every day more troops arrived. Foreign mercenaries were brought in to reinforce the Bourbon army and the sound of marching went on day and night. ‘Disordered times, dangerous times …’ Those were the words on everyone’s lips. The city was rife with rumours and Carina watched and listened, her hopes rising and falling with every piece of news. Carlo Denuzio decided to send his wife and mother on ahead to Naples. Nonna refused outright at first and only finally agreed on condition that Carlo kept his word and Carina would not interrogated.
Church bells calling people to Matins began to peal out across the city and Carina dangled her legs over the side of the bed. Would she receive a reply from Jane today? The situation of foreign nationals in the city was becoming precarious and she must know it was urgent.
My uncle and cousins leave for Naples at the end of next week. She had written to her three days before. He has booked Rose a passage to return to England and I cannot remain in Palermo alone. Do you think Mr and Mrs Goodwin might be kind enough to allow me stay at the consulate? I would be forever grateful if you could act as my chaperone. Alice and my grandmother will be content if they know that I am with you, and under the consul’s protection. I beg you to help me, dear Jane! I cannot leave Sicily in her hour of need …
Carina could hear windows opening and footsteps on the stairs. The household was stirring and soon Rose would bring her breakfast. Matins must be over and she wondered why the bells were still ringing. Getting out of bed, she pinned her wrapper close about her and walked out on to the balcony. The streets around the house were deserted. There were no early morning hawkers selling bread and salami, no clattering of wagon wheels or the tramp of soldiers’ boots. Apart from a group of nuns crossing the piazza, she could not see a single person.
The ringing of bells went on and her gaze scanned the churches and convents below with their campaniles rising above them. The pealing was coming from the old quarter of the city and now seemed to take on a different rhythm, ringing loudly and discordantly. Carina’s heart stopped, then began to race. Could this be the signal for the insurgence? She was excited and terrified at the same time. And then, from nowhere, a flame of fire arched through the sky. There was a deafening explosion and she heard running feet behind her.
Gabriella appeared on the balcony in her nightgown, rosary beads in her hand. ‘Lord save us, what’s happening?’
‘I don’t know … What’s the name of that church down there?’
‘The convent of Santa Maria Gancia—’
The cannon boomed again and a shell detonated with a force that rattled the glass panes in the window. Carina grabbed Gabriella by the arm and pulled her back inside.
‘Holy Mary, protect them! Mother of mercy, save our loved ones …’
Gabriella was on her knees and Carina didn’t know whether to join her or tell her to get up. There were more loud bangs until, all at once, the bells fell silent. The quiet that followed was as chilling as the grave. Holding on to each other, the cousins stepped cautiously outside. A cloud of black smoke hung over the Gancia convent and Carina clasped a hand over her mouth. What had happened? Had the revolution been crushed as soon as it had begun?
‘We must get dressed and find your father.’ Carina tried to be strong but her voice shook. ‘I’ll meet you downstairs.’
Gabriella nodded, and, as she left the bedroom, Rose passed her in the doorway.
‘Do you know what’s going on?’ Carina asked her.
‘Gino says there’s trouble in the east of the city. Seems it’s all over now.’
Carina dressed quickly, not bothering with her hair. It might be nothing to do with the uprising, she thought as she ran down the stairs. Her uncle would know, but when she arrived in the gallery, both Carlo and Paulo had left the house. They had rushed off without saying where they were going or when they might be back.
Never had a day passed so slowly. The servants spoke in hushed tones and an eerie stillness hung over house. Carina and Gabriella could not eat and took turns walking up and down the gallery or slumped in chairs. Every moment they expected to hear carriage wheels on the cobbles but not until late afternoon were they alerted by noise in the courtyard. Both of them rushed to the top of the steps. Jane Parsons alighted from a caleffini and Carina ran down to meet her.
Jane instructed the driver to wait and put a finger to her lips, saying nothing until they were inside the house.
‘I had to come and tell you myself.’ She exhaled slowly as she sat down. ‘The patriots were betrayed! Maniscalco’s troops were waiting and drove them back into the convent. They rang the bells to call the people out – but there was no time! The doors were blown open by cannon. Three were killed and many more injured.’
She went on to tell them Baron Riso had been arrested and forced to march in chains all the way from the Piazza Bologna to the fortress of Castellamare. It was light and warm in the room but a chill wrapped itself around Carina.
‘Those who lost their lives are true martyrs!’ Gabriella spoke bravely but the blood had leached from her cheeks.
‘Do you have news of Enrico Fola?’ Carina asked, taking Gabriella’s hand.
‘I’m afraid not – I only know about Baron Riso because his wife sent a message to Mr Goodwin. I’m on my way to see her.’ Jane plunged her hand into her reticule and retrieved a handkerchief. She held it to her nose a moment, then put it away and braced her shoulders. ‘It’s up to the squadri in the mountains now! They must keep the revolution alive in Sicily. For every man who died today, a hundred more will take his place.’
Jane’s face was taut with strain as they went down to the courtyard. Pietro stepped forward and Carina waved him away, handing her into the cab herself.
‘Thank you for coming to tell us, dear Jane. Did you receive my letter?’
‘We must no longer communicate by post,’ Jane whispered as she settled herself inside. ‘Of course you may stay at the consulate but travel only by caleffini. All the main streets are blocked and these drivers know every back alley and shortcut in the city. However, I expect your uncle will be delayed in Palermo rather longer than he anticipated.’
Carina watched as the two-wheeled gig trotted out through the gates. Purple bougainvillea cascaded over the walls and its garish display clashed with her dark mood. Ben had promised to fight alongside Baron Riso in the city and she imagined him waiting for the signal that never came. Renewed fear swept her. Now that the outcome of the revolution depended on the squadri; he would be in greater danger. And what of Enrico?
They were at the dinner table when Paulo came home. He threw his jacket onto a chair and loosened his necktie as he sat down.
‘Papa sent me home to keep you calm,’ he said and helped himself to a glass of wine, which he drank in one.
A plate was placed in front of him and Pietro served macaroni from a silver tureen. While they had no appetite, he wolfed down his meal. Paulo wouldn’t eat like that if anything terrible had happened to Enrico, Carina thought. They remained silent until Pietro went out and Gabriella spoke first.
‘Miss Parsons came by this afternoon. She told us the uprising has been crushed. Is Enrico safe? Please tell me!’
‘Well, at least he’s alive. He was arrested outside the convent.’ Paulo cast Gabriella a pitying look as she crossed herself. ‘They’ve taken him to the Vicaria prison.’
Gabriella lips moved but no sound came from her mouth and Carina answered for her. ‘Enrico is a courageous man! Miss Parsons said that Baron Riso was also arrested.’
‘Maniscalco believes your friend is the ringleader,’ Paulo replied in a sanguine tone. ‘Riso’s in solitary confinement in the Castellamare – but there’s no need to concern yourself unduly. Due to his rank he’ll be granted a fair trial.’
Gabriella announced she would retire and Paulo went with her to the door.
‘Try not to worry, Ella. Papa’s promised to speak to the king on Enrico’s behalf. He’ll be home before we know it.’
Carina watched him hug his sister, his arm around her slight shoulders as he kissed the top of her head. She felt the warmth between them and Gabriella blew her a kiss before she went out.
Paulo closed the door and turned back into the room, scowling. ‘How could Enrico be such a fool?’
‘He acted according to his principles. He believes in a united Italy.’
‘What are you talking about?’ Paulo was derisive. ‘There’s no such nation.’
‘I mean the new Italy that belongs to Italians – not to the Spanish or Austrians. The patriots sacrificed themselves for justice and freedom!’
‘So you have been mazzinified! I hoped you had more sense than to be swayed by propaganda.’
Carina ignored the taunt and waited until Paulo sat down. ‘What will happen to Enrico?’
‘We must pray for clemency from the king. Scalia and Maniscalco’s retribution is terrible to behold.’ Paulo glanced at the tall case clock in the corner. ‘Thirteen of the conspirators are condemned by court martial and will be executed at midnight. Can you imagine? The youngest is only fifteen years old.’
As the full impact of Paulo’s words hit her, Carina’s heart began to beat with hard, uneven jerks. She thought of the last time she had seen Enrico and the look on his face when he spoke of sacrifice. The memory was vivid and with it came to her a terrifying premonition. Enrico was alive, even if he was in prison, Carina told herself. He wasn’t in danger and the events of the day were making her imagination run wild. She shook her head to get rid of unwanted thoughts, but the feeling of dread persisted and she could not shut it out.
Glancing across at Paulo, Carina saw his expression was bleak. An empty wine glass dangled from his hand. He must have witnessed terrible atrocities today and she admired him for keeping them from his sister. Gabriella was too young to withstand such horrors.
‘We should visit Enrico, don’t you think?’
‘No one’s allowed to see him, not even his family.’
‘There would be no harm in trying.’
‘I said no one.’
‘Please can we—’ Paulo stood up so abruptly the words died on Carina’s lips as he came to stand over her.
‘Don’t even think about it! Your association with the rebels can only make Enrico’s situation worse. Keep well out of this, I tell you!’
He had never spoken to her like that before and Carina stared at him. Did Paulo know she had been at Monteleone with Ben? No, it wasn’t possible. There was no way he could have found out! She lowered her gaze and made an effort to sound contrite.
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interfere. Enrico’s your friend and I know your family will help him. Let’s pray the king is merciful. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll follow Gabriella’s example and retire.’