side streets. Many of the SS guards gave chase, leaving the women at the back of the column unguarded.
‘Come on, let’s make a break for it,’ whispered Valentina.
Livia felt her right arm being pulled hard as she was dragged out of the column and into the waiting crowd of bystanders. They quickly parted to let the women through, one man pressing a few coins into Valentina’s hand, before closing ranks again to conceal the two women’s escape. As they ran through the streets, Livia and Valentina tore off the red triangles – the only thing identifying them as prisoners.
Verona was the regional headquarters of the Fascist Party, and was crawling with Italian and German patrols.
‘We need to find some false papers quickly,’ Valentina whispered, as they lurked in front of a café. ‘And we have to get off the streets before curfew.’
Coming towards them they suddenly noticed two SS guards returning from the railway station, laughing and joking with one another.
‘Quick,’ said Valentina, ‘in here.’ She shepherded Livia into the café. To her dismay, she realised the two SS men were following them.
The waitress saw the panic on the girls’ faces. ‘There’s a ladies’ room at the back,’ she told them. ‘I’ll distract them. Go!’
Valentina grabbed Livia, found the toilet, and locked the door behind them. After a few minutes, Livia heard one of the guards shouting to the other.
‘One of them needs a pee,’ whispered Livia.
‘You speak German?’ asked Valentina.
Livia nodded. They heard the cubicle next to them being locked, the sound of flushing and then the boots of the soldier retreating.
A few minutes later, the waitress knocked on the door. ‘You can come out now,’ she murmured. ‘They’ve gone.’
Back in the café, she offered them a coffee. ‘Here,’ she said, pushing it across the bar. ‘You look as if you could do with it.’
‘Thank you.’ Livia gratefully sipped the coffee. ‘It tastes divine.’
‘We only have a little money,’ said Valentina, offering the few lire she had.
‘Keep it, you’ll need it,’ said the girl. ‘You’re escaping?’
The girls nodded.
‘Partisans?’ she asked quietly. ‘Do you need somewhere to stay?’
‘Yes, desperately,’ whispered Valentina.
‘Go to San Girolamo convent. They support the Resistance. Good luck.’
The convent stood on the shores of the river. Surrounded by tall columns of yew, the pale-stone building glowed welcomingly in the sunshine. The girls knocked on the large oak doors and were ushered inside by a kindly nun who showed them to a small room with a pair of comfortable-looking beds and a basin with running water.
Valentina sank down onto the bed. ‘It’s so soft and clean.’
‘And look,’ said Livia, ripping of her dress, ‘soap and water!’
She washed every part of herself, soaping her hair, scraping her nails, scrubbing her skin clean, until the basin was black with dirt.
There was a knock at the door. Livia opened it, wrapped in a small towel.
A nun stood outside carrying a pile of clothes. ‘I thought you’d like something clean to wear,’ she said. ‘Let me take yours – I can wash and mend them for you. When you are dressed, join us in the refectory for some food; supper is about to be served.’
It was a simple meal of vegetable soup and bread, but so tasty that the girls ate greedily. For the first time in months, their stomachs felt full, almost bloated. They slept deeply and woke the following morning feeling refreshed and optimistic.
They wandered through the cloisters to the refectory, where they breakfasted on eggs laid by the convent hens, which clucked contentedly round the garden. Afterwards, they sat on a bench in the sun warming their faces, listening to the birds singing.
A young nun approached them. ‘Reverend Mother would like to see you, can you follow me please?’
The Mother Superior was a tall elegant woman with violet-coloured eyes. Her office was very simple, with plain white walls decorated only with a large crucifix which hung behind her Victorian desk.
‘Please, sit down.’ She pointed to a pair of comfortable chairs. ‘I imagine you have been through a great deal.’ Her voice was gentle but firm.
‘We have,’ replied Livia. ‘We were both arrested and then imprisoned because of our work with the Resistance.’
‘Well, we can give you sanctuary here for as long as you like,’ she told them. ‘You are welcome to work in the gardens.’
‘You’re very kind,’ replied Livia. ‘But we feel we have a duty to carry on our work.’
Valentina nodded encouragingly.
‘I understand.’ The Reverend Mother smiled gently. ‘How can I help you?’