ages, I could only see flashing lights. That’s passed now, thank God, but I still can’t see very well and my eyes ache if they’re exposed to light for too long.’ She turned towards the girl and tried to smile. She half-opened her eyes, scrunching them up against the light, wincing as she did so.
The girl squeezed her hand. ‘Close them again. I’m Valentina by the way.’
‘And I’m Livia.’
‘You have blood on your dress,’ Valentina said gently, touching Livia’s skirt.
‘Yes,’ replied Livia. ‘They beat me quite badly.’
‘Me too. I was arrested in Siena two weeks ago.’
‘Why?’
‘For being a member of the Pd’A.’
‘So was I – in Florence!’ exclaimed Livia. ‘What happened to you?’
‘We were scouting airdrop locations, and we got intercepted. I think we were betrayed.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Livia. ‘Was it really bad – the interrogation?’
‘Of course,’ Valentina answered, ‘but I wouldn’t tell them anything.’
‘Do you know where we’re going?’ Livia asked.
‘Yes, I think we’re all being sent to a camp somewhere in Emilia Romagna. I have cousins up here in the north, and before the war we used to drive up here and visit them. So I know the road.’
They arrived late at night. The signpost hanging outside said: Fossoli Internment Camp.
‘I’ve heard of this place,’ Valentina murmured in Livia’s ear, as they were herded off the bus. ‘They’ve been sending Jews here since forty-two. It’s got a terrible reputation.’
The girls were registered and assigned a number, which was printed on a triangle of coloured cloth. Livia and Valentina’s triangles were red, indicating they were political prisoners. The triangles were attached to their clothing with a few stitches, and they were then shown to their barracks – a set of bare wooden huts with a basic lavatory that was just a hole in the floor. The beds, Livia discovered as she lay down exhausted, were crawling with insects.
Over the following weeks, Livia and Valentina got used to the routine in the camp. Because of her poor eyesight, Livia was sent to work in the kitchens, washing pots and pans for the officers’ mess. It was a kind of torture, smelling the well-cooked food, knowing that her only meal that day would be a bowl of hot water with a piece of vegetable floating in it, served with the occasional slice of bread made of rice flour.
Sometimes, as she washed up pots and pans, Livia would scrape off a morsel of meat stew or potatoes from the inside of the pan, and surreptitiously lick her fingers. From the empty plates, she would steal twists of salt and sugar, hiding them in her bra. She shared the salt with Valentina, sprinkling it on their tasteless broth, but she found her body heat often melted the sugar, creating a sticky crust on her breast, which she wiped off with a damp finger and sucked.
Livia’s only respite from work was half an hour of exercise in a large central yard each evening. Here, the women were allowed to mix with the male prisoners and, to her amazement, she discovered two of her fellow members of Radio Cora – Sergio and Paulo, the man who had left their meeting early on that fateful evening when they were all arrested.
‘Do you know much about this place?’ Livia asked as they walked around the perimeter fence.
‘Only that it’s a transit camp,’ said Paulo.
‘What does that mean?’
Paulo hesitated.
‘Tell me,’ Livia urged. ‘What do you know?’
‘From here we may be moved to a camp in Germany – that’s if we’re not executed first.’
‘Might they do that?’ Livia stopped in her tracks.
‘I think it’s a possibility.’ Paulo glanced up at the guards, guns in hand, standing in their observation towers. ‘Keep walking,’ he said, taking her arm and propelling her forward. ‘I feel so guilty. If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t be here.’
‘Why do you say that?’ Livia asked.
‘I think I led the Germans to your apartment.’
‘How?’
‘When I left your building that afternoon, there was a man waiting on the doorstep. He was wearing a raincoat, which I thought was odd at the time, because it was such hot day. But he nodded politely, and before I could close the door behind me, he slipped in – it was as simple as that. I should have gone straight to a café and rung you, to warn you all, but I was in a hurry. I can’t believe I was so stupid, so naïve.’
Livia took Paulo’s hand. ‘That’s how these people work – they wait for one of us