Tuscan Rose (45 page)

‘This way,’ said the colonel.

The soldier saluted and stayed by the door while Rosa followed the colonel into the Marchese’s former sitting room. The mahogany and cherrywood furniture along with the framed antique maps and etchings of Italian castles gave the room a masculine atmosphere. The only feminine touches were the Aubusson cushions and the bowls of shell-pink roses on the side tables and mantelpiece. Clementina was reclining on a daybed and holding a compress to her forehead.

‘I’ve brought the nurse as you requested,’ said the colonel. Rosa shivered at the tone of voice he used with Clementina: affectionate and intimate. He was nearly three times Clementina’s age and probably had a wife and children back in Austria. ‘Obersturmführer Schmidt seems to think she is dangerous: a partisan sympathiser. Shall I have the private stay in the room with you?’

Clementina turned to him and smiled sweetly. ‘I’d prefer that you didn’t. You see, the problem is my…’ she said, lowering her eyes.

‘Ah,’ said the colonel, catching the hint that she had a female ailment. He blushed. ‘Then perhaps the housekeeper should be present?’

‘This nurse isn’t dangerous,’ said Clementina, still smiling but with an curt tone. ‘She used to be my governess.’

The colonel glanced at Rosa suspiciously. He seemed confused. Rosa suspected that Clementina might often have that effect on him.

‘Well, then,’ he said, withdrawing. ‘Please tell me whatever she says you need, my dear, and I will get it.’

When the colonel had left and shut the door behind him, Clementina sat up. ‘There’s nothing more repulsive to German men than women’s bodily functions or something contagious,’ she said.

Rosa realised that Clementina’s illness was feigned. She had saved her life—or at least bought her a reprieve. Rosa wasn’t sure whether to be grateful or not. The last few hours had shattered her view of the world. She couldn’t believe that only that morning she had been in the convent’s crypt with Madre Maddalena, discussing where to hide Antonio. Rosa’s heart fell at the thought of her husband. He would be waiting at the prison now, wondering what was keeping her.

Rosa looked at Clementina, unable to hide her scorn. She couldn’t separate the clever, vivacious girl she had loved from the young woman before her who consorted with sadistic murderers.

Clementina’s eyes filled with tears, as if she knew what Rosa was thinking. ‘The colonel is Mother’s…well…I think you can guess.’ She opened a silver case and took a cigarette in her trembling fingers. She offered the case to Rosa who declined.

‘You were always a lady, Signorina Bellocchi,’ Clementina said, lighting her cigarette and inhaling.

The sound of Rosa’s former name transported her back to the days when Clementina was a child. She remembered sitting up with her and reading
Le tigri di Mompracem
to calm her nightmares. But Bellocchi was not Rosa’s name any more. She was
not the same person. She was a wife, mother and nurse. And she was no longer an orphan of unknown parentage, at least in her own mind. Rosa thought of Signora Corvetto; Clementina would not be keeping the company of Nazis if she knew who her real mother was. But that was Signora Corvetto’s story to tell, and if she had not informed Clementina who she was after the Marchese’s death, then she must have her reasons.

The colonel’s voice came through the door. ‘Is everything all right, my darling?’

For such a powerful, brutal man, he seemed to be wrapped around Clementina’s finger. But that couldn’t be true entirely, Rosa thought. Clementina had the look about her of an exotic bird locked in a cage. She could coo and preen but it was clear who was the true master.

‘We’ll be finished shortly,’ Clementina called in return, sounding faint but with a contemptuous look on her face. She turned back to Rosa. ‘Babbo would turn in his grave if…’ She stopped herself and swallowed. She swung her legs off the daybed and rushed towards Rosa.

‘Listen, there isn’t much time,’ she said, her voice still lowered but hoarse. ‘Downstairs they are holding eight people from a local village. They have been rounded up because of the partisans stealing that ammunition yesterday. A unit of German soldiers are on their way now to march those people back into their village square where they will be executed. The count is ten Italians for every German killed. No Germans were killed in the theft but the colonel is furious at having been made a fool of and is going to kill those villagers anyway. The partisans were so bold that they turned up at the storehouse in Italian army uniforms, saluted to the guards and took what they wanted. The colonel is looking for another two people to make it ten. It was supposed to be the partisans they caught, but now it’s going to be you and your fellow nurse if you don’t listen to me. No-one except the colonel and Mother ever leave this villa, Signorina Bellocchi.
Ever.
Not even the soldiers who guard it. Unless it’s on the back of a truck with a bullet through
their head. The only way I can save you is to pretend I have an ongoing illness and for you to stay here as my nurse.’

If there was anything redeeming about the day, it was that Clementina’s heart proved not to have been completely hardened. Rosa did not want to die, but death in this case was preferable to living. She shook her head.

‘Don’t you understand what I’m saying?’ said Clementina, grabbing Rosa’s shoulders and looking horrified. ‘They are going to shoot you!’

Rosa met her gaze. ‘If I stay here, there will be more partisans. They will use me to help torture them.’

Clementina let Rosa go and strode towards the window. She snuffed out her cigarette on the windowsill. ‘Maybe you can help them…suffer
less
.’ She turned to Rosa, scrutinising her face to see if her words had any effect.

Rosa shook her head. She wouldn’t be able to give them all morphine.

‘Then you are going to have to decide between their lives and yours,’ Clementina said. ‘What good will you do them by sacrificing yourself? What good will it do whichever side wins if you are dead?’

Rosa looked at Clementina and pitied her. For all her wealth and privilege, she could not see what was obvious to Rosa. ‘Is that how you think, Clementina?’ she asked gently. ‘Is that what you’ve decided to do?’

Clementina stared at Rosa, fighting back her tears. ‘Isn’t that the only way to think?’ she asked. ‘The only way one can survive in these circumstances?’

Rosa shook her head. ‘I couldn’t live with myself or face God with peace if I existed only for myself.’

Clementina stared at Rosa and winced as if she had been stabbed. ‘God? Signorina Bellocchi, you must be the last person in the world who still believes in God.’

‘Is everything all right?’ the colonel asked, this time opening the door.

Clementina turned and did her best to smile at him. ‘Yes, come in,’ she said, lighting another cigarette and smoking it furiously. ‘We’re finished.’

The colonel walked into the room followed by his soldier. He looked at Clementina. ‘Is it something serious?’

Clementina turned away. ‘No, it’s not serious. The nurse has given me advice about what to do for it.’

‘So that’s all?’ asked the colonel.

Clementina glanced at Rosa and, when she realised that she could not change her mind, nodded.

The colonel seemed relieved. He indicated to the soldier who grabbed Rosa by the arm. Before Rosa was taken from the room, she heard Clementina say quietly, ‘It’s all very well to be a lady, Signorina Bellocchi. I just hope you are right.’

The soldier marched Rosa to the kitchen where a group of people were huddled around the fireplace. They were being guarded by the two young soldiers Rosa had seen with Dono. Fiamma was there too.

‘Another nurse?’ said an elderly man, a look of disgust on his face, when Rosa was made to sit with the group. ‘I am old and of no use to anyone. But to shoot a nurse…why, it’s like shooting a nun.’

‘Shh! Shh! They aren’t going to shoot us,’ said his wife, glancing at a young couple with a small child. ‘That’s only a rumour.’

Rosa counted the people: the elderly couple; an ancient-looking woman asleep in the corner; two middle-aged men in suits; the parents and their child; and herself and Fiamma. The little girl was included in the number to be executed. Rosa watched the mother cooing to the girl and tickling her cheeks and thought of Sibilla. The girl was laughing, innocent of the fate that awaited her. Rosa felt pity for the child’s parents. There was a time when she would not have believed that anyone could kill an innocent child. But after what she had seen in the storeroom she could believe anything.

One of the suited men turned to the soldiers. ‘It’s wrong to shoot us,’ he said. ‘I’ve been a member of the Fascist Party since 1922. I lost a son in Africa. I hate the partisans. I wouldn’t give one
of them a crumb of bread even if he were starving. They should shoot the people who help them, not good citizens like us. If I saw a partisan or an Allied soldier, I would kick him in the face.’

‘They don’t understand you,’ said his companion, clutching his fists to his face. ‘The fucking Germans don’t understand you.’

Fiamma and Rosa clasped each other’s hands.

One of the soldiers guarding them looked at his watch. ‘They should be here by now to take them,’ he said. ‘I can’t stand this much longer.’

‘Keep it together,’ the other soldier told him.

‘Are they really going to shoot these people?’ the first soldier asked. ‘They’ve done nothing wrong. I joined the army to fight for the fatherland, not to kill old people and children.’

‘Shut up!’ the second soldier ordered him. ‘One of them might understand German. Do you feel sympathy for these people so much that you want to be shot along with them? Don’t you know these people would cut your throat in your sleep if they could? As for that woman and child, be thankful it’s not
your
woman. Not
your
child.’

Rosa heard voices out in the courtyard. The colonel was speaking with someone. She rose slightly and saw that a small detachment of Germans was standing there. The executioners had arrived. The door to the kitchen opened and a soldier told the prisoners to come out. Rosa looked at each of the people as they stood. Fiamma helped the geriatric lady, who turned out to be blind, to her feet. The father picked up his child in his arms and was followed out the door by his wife. When the girl smiled at Rosa, it was all she could do not to break down and cry.

The detachment waiting outside consisted of two officers and four soldiers. So these are the men who will end my life, Rosa thought. One of the officers was standing with the colonel. The other was in the rear of the group, his cap pulled low. Rosa despised him most of all. He was too ashamed even to show his face. He did not look one of his victims in the eye but kept his gaze averted.

‘Report back to me,’ the colonel said to the first officer, with no emotion in his voice. ‘I’d like to know how many people in that village offer information on the hiding places of partisans when they see how we deal with those who don’t.’

The officers and soldiers stood to attention. The officer near the colonel ordered the frightened group to march down the drive. As they walked by the cypress trees, a black car passed them on its way to the house. Rosa caught a glimpse of the Marchesa’s pale face and red lips. She did not look at the group. They were invisible to her. Rosa cringed and turned away. The Marchesa had finally won. Rosa was doomed.

She stared at the autumn leaves, the golden fields, the hills they were being marched towards. Those things seemed to have taken on a strange beauty. She prayed for her family and for the souls of the condemned villagers. She did not pray for the German soldiers. She could not bring herself to do that.

‘Where are we going?’ the blind woman asked Fiamma. ‘No-one tells me anything.’

‘We are being taken to another village,’ Fiamma told her. ‘A safer one. But we must walk. Are you all right?’

‘I’m all right,’ the woman said. ‘I’d still be helping my son in the fields if I wasn’t blind. It was the sun, you know. All the years in the sun ruined my eyes.’

The group had been walking for over an hour when one of the suited men stopped and looked at the officer leading the group. ‘You’re not taking us in the direction of the village.’

‘Be quiet! Shut up!’ the officer shouted at him in Italian.

‘They are going to shoot us and push us into a ditch,’ the man’s companion said to the group. His legs nearly buckled beneath him. ‘They’re going to shoot us in the forest like they’ve been doing to the Jews. Our families will never know where we are buried.’

The elderly woman put her hand on his back. ‘It’s better this way, Nando. It’s better our families and neighbours don’t see this. Imagine all the children in our village. What would it do to them?’

‘I am a member of the Fascist Party,’ the man said, weeping. ‘I hung Mussolini’s picture in my office. I’ve never been a communist. I hate the fucking partisans. They are the lowest scum in the world.’

Rosa noticed the officer at the front of the group glance at the other officer, the one with his cap pulled low. They exchanged a smile. Bile rose in her throat. Did they think a man begging for his life was amusing? Rosa could never bring herself to kill anything, not even moths and spiders. Antonio often laughed at her attempts to catch the creatures in a handkerchief so she could take them outside. She didn’t believe in stomping out a life just because she could. All those creatures had was their lives, who was she to take that from them?

‘I want the Germans to win!’ said the other man in a suit. ‘As for that leader of the local partisans—the Falcon or whatever they call him—I wish him a long, painful death. They say he is very clever, but if I ever came across him I would cut his testicles off and use them to make sauce for my ravioli!’

‘Shut up!’ the German officer growled at him.

Rosa saw the officer with the cap was doing his best not to laugh and despised him more. She noticed the grenade on his belt. She didn’t know much about weapons but she believed that if she tugged on that grenade, she could blow him up. They could die together. She’d like to see him laugh when he realised what she’d done. She was contemplating her plan when he suddenly spoke, ordering the group to put their hands behind their heads and kneel on the ground.