Marina stepped back from the bookcase. Outside the library window, the trees were bare and a light snow covered the ground. The rest of January had been colder than she’d ever experienced in Rome, but Marina didn’t mind. She spent her mornings in the library and her afternoons sitting by the fire at Villa I Tatti or visiting Desi.
Father Garboni was still recovering from his stroke and Desi’s mother visited him daily. Desi vowed to tell her mother about the baby every day, and every day she put it off. Soon she wouldn’t have a choice; even Marina could see the bump under Desi’s dresses. Marina assured her it would be all right. Catarina was a mother, after all. How could she be upset about a new baby?
Marina discovered a newfound confidence. She worked through Bernard’s papers more efficiently. When she drove into Florence on an errand, she wasn’t disturbed by the German soldiers she saw patrolling the streets. Even at night, when she was alone in her bedroom, instead of fretting about Desi, about Belle and Bernard, and Captain Bonner, her heart beat with a new kind of thrill.
The change in her was because of Carlos. Sometimes he brought her something hot to drink while she worked in the library. He never stayed long; she wouldn’t let him interrupt her work. But she enjoyed watching him stride up the path, his face bright with desire.
A few afternoons, she helped him deliver wood. In the evenings, they sat in the living room with Bernard and Belle and discussed the war. Then Bernard and Belle would excuse themselves to go upstairs, and Carlos would move close to Marina on the sofa. It took all her willpower to only kiss; she always wanted more.
After the first time they made love, they decided they needed a permanent place to meet in private. Carlos had taken her hand and led her through the gardens of Villa I Tatti. He stopped at the garden shed and pulled Marina inside. She couldn’t believe her eyes. The hard floor had been replaced by a thick carpet; there was a day bed and a little washbasin. A heater had been installed and the window had proper curtains.
No one used the garden shed, it was the perfect place for their rendezvous. Carlos had transformed the shed by himself. She pictured the time they spent there: the slow, careful lovemaking, the hours afterwards when they talked about everything. She almost felt guilty that she could experience such happiness during the war.
It was now the middle of February. Outside the library, Marina spotted Ludwig walking up the path, and went out to greet him. His fair hair was covered by a hat and he wore a red scarf.
‘Ludwig. This is a nice surprise. What are you doing here?’
‘I came to see you.’ He followed her inside.
‘Of course, let me take your coat.’
Ludwig glanced up, surveying the room.
‘I sometimes forget how beautiful Bernard’s library is,’ he said, admiring the stained-glass windows. ‘Like a cathedral with bookshelves instead of pews.’
‘My father would have loved it,’ Marina mused. ‘He appreciated beauty. He bought flowers every evening for the table in our entryway. And he loved to buy me a pretty dress for my birthday.’ She smiled at the memory. ‘Then he’d insist we get dressed up and eat at some fancy restaurant. I wasn’t interested in clothes or expensive dinners, but I’m glad we went.’ She sighed. ‘I’ll always have my memories of those nights together.’
Ludwig’s brow creased and he stuffed his hands in his pockets.
‘Did I say something wrong?’ Marina asked.
‘It’s not what you said, it’s the war.’ Ludwig sat down. ‘Belle told you that Captain Bonner is transporting the works in the Institute to Germany. Since the occupation, the Nazis act as if everything in Florence belongs to them. The other morning, Captain Bonner packed up a book of sketches by Correggio. I discovered the sketches last year on a trip to Palma. I wish I had left them there.’ He gritted his teeth. ‘They’ll end up in the basement of some Berlin office building, lost once again.’
‘You’re saving the important pieces,’ Marina reminded him. ‘Like the diary you showed me that Titian kept of his time in the court of the Duke of Ferrara.’
Bernard had allowed her to flip through that the day before.
Ludwig’s eyes lit up. ‘That’s one of my most treasured possessions. I would have pulled a gun on Bonner if he tried to take it.’ He stopped. ‘I shouldn’t say things like that. I’ll end up on the wrong end of a German rifle.’
‘Everything will stay safe here,’ Marina assured him. ‘The library is locked; German soldiers haven’t come to the villa in months.’
‘It’s not just Bonner I’m worried about,’ Ludwig said soberly. ‘It’s the Allies too.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘The Allies landed at Anzio last month, and they’re fighting their way north, taking back cities occupied by the Nazis.’
‘That’s what we want,’ she said, perplexed. ‘Unless, that’s not how you feel because…’ She stopped uncomfortably.
‘Because I’m German?’ He finished her sentence. ‘You know how I feel about the war. But if the Allies are successful, the Nazis will retreat and they won’t leave the cities intact. First, they’ll plunder the remaining artwork: Michelangelo’s David will disappear in the middle of the night. Then they’ll blow up the roads that lead into Rome, the bridges in Florence and Venice.’
Marina felt as if she had been punched in the stomach. Ponte Vecchio, Ponte Santa Trinia, demolished. She imagined returning to Rome and finding the roads that led into the city a heap of rubble.
‘I never thought about that,’ she said.
‘I want the war to end, but I don’t want Italy’s great art and architecture to be lost in the process,’ Ludwig said.
‘There must be something we can do,’ Marina urged.
Ludwig’s shoulders sagged.
‘Gerhard offered to go to Berlin and discuss it with Hitler. Hitler has always seen himself as an art lover,’ he said ruefully. ‘But I fear that will only make the plundering worse. Hitler has seized many pieces for his private collection at the Eagle’s Nest. If he worries that art and books will be taken by the Allies, he’ll send for them now. None of the books would ever be returned to Italy.’
Ludwig stood up and paced around the library.
‘Bernard can only hide so many books here. I’ve decided to transport more of the books in the Institute’s collection to Milan. There’s a monastery outside the city. I know the monks there; they’re willing to help.’
Marina frowned. ‘That sounds dangerous. What if the Nazis discover that some books are missing?’
‘I’ve thought about it for so long, I’ve worn out the rug in my room from pacing.’ Ludwig smiled thinly. ‘I’ve devoted my entire career to building that collection. I have to save what I can, I can’t let all of it disappear. The Institute and all its works belong to Italy. The Nazis can’t be allowed to take from it for their personal benefit.’
His voice lowered and he looked at her searchingly.
‘I probably won’t leave for a while, there’s still a lot to do to get ready. But if I go to the monastery, I might not see you again,’ he said. ‘I wanted you to know that I’ll always value our friendship.’
‘Of course we’ll see each other again.’ Marina tried to smile. ‘After the war, I’ll need someone to frequent the museums with. My father and I used to visit the Palatine Gallery at the Pitti Palace when we came to Florence. I can’t think of anyone I’d rather stroll through it again with than you.’
Marina entered Desi’s parents’ villa through the back door. A sweet smell came from the kitchen.
‘Marina, I’m glad you’re here.’ Desi stood at the counter. She looked more composed than Marina had seen her in weeks. ‘My mother and I baked a cheesecake.’
Desi had been avoiding her mother since Father Garboni had his stroke. She spent all day in her bedroom or in the morning room with a shawl draped over her to hide her stomach.
‘You and your mother were baking together?’ Marina frowned.
‘She knows so many recipes. Milk and cheese are important when you’re pregnant,’ Desi went on. ‘That’s how the baby builds healthy bones.’
Marina realised what was different about Desi. The fear and uncertainty were gone from her face.
‘Your mother knows about the baby!’ Marina exclaimed.
‘Father Garboni has completely recovered, he won’t be replaced by another priest,’ Desi announced happily. ‘I told my mother about the baby this morning at breakfast. At first, she was furious. I was afraid she’d make me pack my bags and leave. Then we went to see Father Garboni together. He told her that God is more forgiving during wartime. He said the baby was God’s way of bringing some happiness to our family after losing Donato, which made her cry.’
‘What did you tell her about the baby’s father?’ Marina asked, sitting at the kitchen table.
‘I pretended I got swept up in some romance while grieving Donato’s death.’ Desi sat opposite her. ‘I hated to use Donato as an excuse but it worked. She understood.’
‘I said your mother would surprise you,’ Marina said happily.
‘She’s in the chapel right now, thanking God for giving her a grandchild. She believes if she prays enough, God will deliver another miracle and end the war.’
‘I hope God is listening,’ Marina sighed.
Desi wiped her hands on her apron. She hugged Marina.
‘Even after I told my mother, I was still anxious about having the baby,’ Desi reflected. ‘But last night, while the baby was kicking, I decided something. Peter said he was lucky because he has me and the baby. Well, then I’m luckier than anyone. I have a home and parents and good friends. There’s no point in worrying. Instead, I’m going to do everything I can to make others happy.
‘I’m going to take this cake to my father in his study and tell him about the baby.’ She determinedly cut two slices of cake. ‘And then I’m going to talk to him about the management of the vineyards. Donato was going to take them over eventually, but now I want to help run the family business. I can’t sit around knitting baby booties forever. There’s so much I’ll be able to do when it’s springtime.’
Marina smiled across the table at Desi. She had never looked so beautiful. Her cheeks were rosy and her eyes were large and brown.
‘You’ll have a baby and the vineyards,’ Marina agreed. ‘And your parents will have their first grandchild.’
Marina gazed out the living room window, waiting for Carlos. He was taking her to a restaurant in Montelopio for dinner.
The truck pulled up and Carlos bounded up the steps. She opened the door before he could knock.
‘I thought we could have a drink before we go. It’s warm and cosy here in front of the fireplace,’ Marina suggested. Carlos had told her to dress warmly, so she wore a wool skirt and sweater.
Carlos shook his head. ‘We don’t have time. We have an important reservation.’
‘Where?’
He leaned forward and kissed her.
‘It’s a surprise – you’ll see when we get there.’
They drove towards the village of Montelopio, where he had rescued her when her bike had a flat tyre. But instead of following the road, Carlos turned onto a dirt path.
‘Where are we going?’ She peered out the window, thinking the passing scenery looked familiar.
‘You’ll see,’ he said gaily. He squeezed her hand. ‘I promise the pasta will be better than anything you’ve had in Tuscany.’
He stopped in front of a farmhouse, and Marina realised where they were: at the barn where Sara and her children were hiding.
‘Is Sara joining us for dinner?’
He jumped out and opened Marina’s door.
‘Not exactly; we’re joining her.’
This time, when Carlos knocked, the barn door opened immediately. Sara’s son, Eli, greeted them. He was taller than Marina remembered. He wore a white shirt and trousers that fit him perfectly for once.
‘The beautiful Roman signorina has returned.’ Eli took Marina’s hand. ‘Carlos said you would. At first I didn’t believe him. Then he insisted I wear the clothes he bought me for Christmas.’ He pointed at his shirt. ‘I’ve never received Christmas presents before. My mother said it was all right, God wouldn’t mind.’
‘You look very smart,’ Marina said, smiling. ‘And you’re so tall. Next time I see you, you’ll be as tall as Carlos.’
A table with four chairs was set up in the corner. A bread basket and glasses sat atop a lace tablecloth.
‘I’m getting muscles.’ Eli began to roll up his sleeves. ‘Would you like to see?’
‘Not now,’ Carlos stopped him. ‘I promised Marina dinner.’
‘Wait until you taste the dessert.’ Eli kissed his fingertips. ‘I begged Carlos for a bit, but he said it’s not polite to serve a cake with a slice missing.’
Sara climbed down the ladder, carrying the baby. Francesca had also grown since Marina had seen her in December. She was eight months old and even prettier than Marina remembered. Her dark hair curled around her ears and her blue eyes had long thick lashes.
‘Marina, it’s good to see you.’ Sara beamed. ‘Carlos and Eli have been preparing the food all day.’
Marina turned to Carlos.
‘You made dinner?’ She glanced around the barn. ‘I thought there wasn’t anywhere to cook.’
‘There isn’t.’ Carlos took off his coat. ‘I had to make everything at home and bring it in my truck. Eli and I heated it on the burner. Eli cut the bread, he’s very good with a knife.’ He looked at Marina. ‘I know I promised you a special dinner, but I thought you’d want to help celebrate.’ He beamed at Sara. ‘Sara and the children will be leaving the barn soon.’
‘Where are you going?’ Marina asked, turning to Sara.
‘The children and I are going to Switzerland. Carlos arranged everything.’ Sara’s cheeks shone and Marina’s heart was warmed by the joy she saw in her face. ‘A Swiss family in Lugano has agreed to take us in. Eli can go to school; he doesn’t even have to learn a new language.’
‘I didn’t do it all by myself.’ Carlos squeezed Marina’s hand meaningfully, and Marina understood why he had brought her here. The items she’d valued had bought their passage.
‘Of course I want to celebrate.’ Marina nodded. ‘I’m honoured to be invited.’
‘Carlos promised you would sit next to me,’ Eli said, leading her to the table.
Carlos ladled vegetable lasagna onto the plates. Eli finished his portion before Marina had even managed a few bites.
‘I’m not that hungry, Eli can have the rest of my lasagna too,’ Marina said, pushing her plate towards him. Eli needed the food more than she did. ‘I’d rather hold the baby.’
Marina held Francesca while the others ate. Her breath smelled of mother’s milk and her skin was silky against Marina’s cheek.
‘The best part is we don’t have to go somewhere far away to be safe,’ Sara said as they were eating dessert. ‘When Benito returns from the labour camp, it will be easy for him to join us.’
Carlos’s brow furrowed, but Sara was so excited she didn’t notice. Marina wondered if he knew something about Benito that she didn’t.
‘I’m so glad.’ Marina beamed.
‘You don’t know what it’s been like, alone in the loft with the children.’ Sara’s voice was anguished. ‘Francesca has never been outside. Every time Eli looks out the window, I’m frightened someone will see him.’ Her eyes brimmed with tears. ‘Because of Carlos, my children will have a future.’
‘The only bright spot in this war is being able to help others,’ Marina said slowly. ‘I’m sure Carlos is happy to be able to do something.’
After dinner, Sara and Marina cleared the table while Carlos held Francesca. Finally, it was time to leave.
‘Carlos promised he would visit us in Switzerland,’ Eli said as he walked with them to the door. ‘You must come with him. All the boys at my school will be jealous that I know a beautiful Roman lady.’
‘I promise I’ll try.’ Marina leaned forward and kissed Eli on the cheek.
Eli held his palm to his cheek.
‘A kiss from the beautiful Roman signorina,’ he sighed theatrically. ‘I won’t wash this cheek until I see you again.’
Carlos ruffled Eli’s hair and grinned. ‘You’d better or you won’t be allowed at school in the first place. Go help your mother with Francesca. I have to take Marina home.’
Marina sat silently in Carlos’s truck. The sky was black, the forest only a faint outline. ‘You’re very quiet,’ Carlos said, reaching for her hand.
‘It was a wonderful evening,’ Marina began. ‘Eli has so much energy. And Francesca is growing to be a beauty.’
‘I’m glad you enjoyed it,’ Carlos said. ‘Sometimes it helps to see how much good you’re doing. There are many Jewish families like Sara and her children. Thanks to the help of people like you, we’re able to outfit them in warm clothes and put food on the table.’
‘I love what I’m doing,’ Marina said. ‘And I admire Sara so much. I can’t imagine being as brave as she is. Caring for two children without her husband, and now taking them across the border to Switzerland alone.’
The truck pulled up in front of Villa I Tatti. Carlos turned off the engine.
‘That’s one of the reasons I wanted you to come tonight,’ Carlos began. ‘Sara’s papers haven’t arrived. There’s been a delay. I have to go sort it out, and I may be gone for a few weeks.’ He ran his hands over the steering wheel. ‘When I’m not here, I wonder if you’d check on Sara and the children. Make sure they’re warm and have enough to eat.’
‘But Sara thinks everything is taken care of,’ Marina objected. ‘What will she say if you’re gone, and she and the children are still here?’
‘She’s so thrilled about going to Switzerland, and I only found out about the issue a few days ago,’ Carlos replied. ‘I know I can take care of it, I’ve always managed before. There isn’t any need to worry her.’
Marina couldn’t help feeling concerned. Carlos had promised Sara, and Eli was so excited. How would they feel if they had to stay in the barn for another month?
‘Sara and the children are very important to me,’ Carlos said, as if he was reading her thoughts. ‘I won’t let them down.’
Marina had to trust that Carlos knew what he was doing.
‘Of course, I’ll keep an eye on them,’ she promised.