TERESA BROUGHT ME A BOWL OF HOT MILK BARELY TINTED with black barley. ‘Drink up, before these Krauts pinch the lot!’ Then, seeing her daughter tidying her hair reflected in the water in the sink, she burst out: ‘Stop admiring yourself, Loretta, don’t you know it’s Old Nick who combs hair!’ She knew her daughter was vacuous, and that it’s hard to do much with a vacuum.
I drank my milk and barley at a draught, got to my feet and stepped round Teresa. She was a mule of a woman, with greyish complexion and a long chin, shoulders custom built for burdens, and a grimace of rage mingled with soot. She was a noble, obstinate animal, tamed only if you knew how to get on her right side, a gift which only Grandma and Aunt Maria seemed to possess.
A loud outcry rang through the kitchen. Then another, then a third. I was already at the door when Renato’s arm barred my way.
‘Don’t go out. Aunt’s orders.’
‘What’s going on?’
‘The men from the church have served their sentence and the sub-lieutenant has told the troops the captain is packing the lot of them off to Monte Grappa. There’s a hint of rebellion in the air. But nothing will come of it – this lot were born in uniform.’ Renato lowered his pipe. ‘They think this is unfair punishment, but he is their C.O. so nothing will come of it. If he knows his stuff he’ll allow them to let off steam, and in half an hour it’ll all be over.’
The soldiers’ voices grew more numerous, some coming even from the inner courtyard.
‘They’re getting off lightly, these Krauts,’ said Teresa as she dried the last dish.
‘Lightly? Monte Grappa?’ The steward rammed his pipe back in his mouth. ‘It’s hell on earth up on that mountain.’
I really liked that man. I was used to seeing people from above; at seventeen I was already a metre seventy, but he towered over me. Everything about him seemed to speak to me. His appearance, the look in his eyes, the quick, strong movements of his arms, even his limp. If he was the steward at the Villa…But who was he really? Why did Grandma think so highly of him? Even Aunt Maria hung on his lips, a privilege I had never seen her grant to anyone.
‘Like a bowl of milk, Renato?’ asked Loretta.
‘Be quiet, girl,’ snapped Teresa, flaring her nostrils.
‘But…Mum…’
‘Quiet, I tell you!’
The soldiers’ voices grew louder and louder, interrupted at intervals by sharp orders.
‘Signor Manca, won’t you let me in?’
It was Giulia with her hair bundled up under a fur hat. She was wearing a jacket with a fur collar, and her trousers were rolled up over a pair of riding boots. I had never seen her in such a get-up, but Giulia was Giulia and no one showed any surprise at her odd breeches.
Renato stepped aside, and she came in saying, ‘I’ll light the fire.’
‘The fire is my job,’ said Teresa, stooping over the firewood.
To help her mother, Loretta moved the swinging arm on which hung the cauldron. It squeaked and Teresa gave a snort. All of a sudden the voices of the soldiers fell silent.
‘Just you see, they’ll get off scot free, this rabble!’
Loretta couldn’t take her eyes off Renato’s face, his hands, his manly chest.
‘What is it these youngsters put into your noddle?’ grunted Teresa. ‘Beelzebub’s business, that’s what.’
Giulia smiled, looking hard at the steward.
‘Would you like some milk?’ I asked her.
She lifted the gasmask to her face, then lowered it again and bared her teeth.
‘We could do with a walk,’ I added in a shaky voice.
‘I’ll have a bowl of milk first.’
Giulia took the bowl from Loretta’s hands and I went upstairs to fetch my overcoat. I said hello to Grandpa who told me to take care, and when I came down again I saw only Teresa and her daughter at the fireplace. This surprised me. I went outside, and as I closed the door I glimpsed a pout on Loretta’s face. Giulia and Renato were at the gate talking to a sentry who had ordered arms. Renato was waving his pipe in front of his face. The soldier was laughing. I started towards them.
‘Come along quick,’ said Giulia, coming to meet me. ‘That fellow’s asking too many questions.’
We set off. To my surprise and disappointment I found that Renato, despite his limp, was as agile as an ibex.
We climbed up towards the cemetery, passed the front of the church, and then took to the main road. There was still the sweetish whiff of corpses, whether of man or of mule, and still wrecks of carts and lorries, though many had been cleared away over the last few days. Every so often we spotted a line of prisoners, easy to distinguish by the unmistakable Adrian steel helmets weighing down their heads. They were raking the fields and filling huge sacks with fragments of the flesh and bones of men and beasts all jumbled together. But when in the grass they came across a human head those makeshift undertakers stopped for a moment, crossed themselves to a man, and a metal chest was set down beside those pathetic remains.
Giulia was on ahead. Renato and I, instead, were walking side by side. It began to snow. Just a little at first, but then heavily.
‘Let’s get back,’ said Renato.
Giulia, four steps ahead of us, had begun to fool around with her pet gasmask. Renato reached into his pocket and took out a flask of grappa. He held it out to me. I shook my head. But I was cold, and when he had taken a long swig and was shoving it back in his pocket I asked for a drop.
‘A little more and you’ll become a regular Alpino.’
‘Just a year to go for that…but right now we’re in Germany.’
‘This bloody war isn’t going to last a year.’
‘Do you mean we’ve lost it?’
‘I didn’t say that. The armies might hold out but not the empires, they’ve run out of steam.’ He put the flask back and rammed his pipe into his mouth. ‘The Central Powers, the Western Powers, all of them are broken winded.’ He stabbed the mouthpiece in the direction of Giulia as he gave me a clout on the back. ‘You fancy the young lady, eh?’