‘She won’t mind. I’ll see you later, Mamma.’ She went out onto the communal landing.
‘You’ve not even had breakfast,’ Luisa called after her.
‘There isn’t any,’ Livia called back up the staircase.
Elena’s family lived in a top-floor apartment overlooking the market square of Piazza Sant’Ambrogio. Normally it was filled with shoppers, but this morning it was deserted, the market stalls virtually empty.
Livia climbed the stairs to the apartment and knocked on the door. It was answered by Elena’s mother, Benedetta. Small and fair-haired, she looked like an older version of her daughter. ‘Ah, Livia – come in. Can I make you some coffee?’
‘Thank you, only if you can spare it.’
‘Yes of course. Elena’s in her room.’
Elena was reading, propped up on pillows. ‘Livia!’ she said, throwing her book down on the bed. ‘I’m so glad you’re back. I’ve missed you so much.’ She stood up and wrapped her arms around her friend.
‘I’ve missed you too,’ said Livia. ‘What are you reading?’
‘Oh, just a textbook. Very dull.’
Livia sat down on the bed next to Elena. Her friend’s room was even smaller than Livia’s room at her father’s apartment. The bed was under the window, and a chest of drawers served as a bedside table. The only other furniture was a bookcase on the opposite wall.
‘Have you had a chance to see Mario again?’ Livia asked. ‘I wondered how he was.’
Elena flopped back down onto the bed. ‘He’s making very slow progress, I’m afraid. My father is not optimistic. I don’t think he’ll ever really recover.’
‘Poor Mario,’ said Livia. ‘I hardly like to ask, but I don’t suppose he’s mentioned…’
‘Cosimo?’
Livia nodded.
‘No. But I do have news of him.’
There was a knock on the door, and Benedetta came in with two cups of coffee. ‘I’ll leave them here, shall I?’ she said, putting the cups down on the chest of drawers.
‘Mamma,’ said Elena. ‘We were just talking about Cosimo. I was going to explain what’s happened to him.’
‘Explain what?’ Livia asked, suddenly nervous.
‘Ah, yes, poor Cosimo.’ Benedetta leant against the door frame.
Livia felt her heart thudding in her chest. ‘What?’ she asked urgently. ‘Tell me. What’s happened?’
Benedetta knelt next to Livia. ‘Well, the good news is that he’s alive.’
‘And what is the bad news?’
Benedetta took Livia’s hand in hers. ‘He’s been injured. I’m so sorry.’
Livia looked at her wide-eyed.
‘He got frostbite,’ said Elena, wrapping her arms around her friend. ‘Then gangrene. So they had to amputate, I’m afraid. He lost part of one leg.’
‘His leg…’ Livia repeated slowly, as if struggling to understand.
‘Not his whole leg, you understand,’ said Benedetta calmly. ‘Just above the ankle, we think. Really, he’s lucky to be alive. He’s on his way home now. Heaven knows when he’ll arrive, but his parents were told to expect him in the next few days, and I’m hoping he can be transferred to my husband’s hospital.’
Livia scarcely knew how she got back to the apartment. She walked robotically up the stairs and unlocked the door. She could see her father was working at the dining table as usual, but said nothing, and headed down the corridor to her room.
‘Is that you, Livia?’ he called out. ‘Are you all right?’
‘No,’ she replied flatly. She went into her room and closed the door.
A few moments later, there was knock on the door. ‘May I come in?’ When he got no reply, Giacomo pushed open the door. Livia was lying on the bed, facing the wall.
‘Tell me, darling, what’s the matter?’
‘Cosimo is alive,’ she said quietly. ‘He’s coming back to Florence.’
‘But that’s wonderful news!’ Giacomo said. ‘I must admit, I’m surprised – and delighted, of course.’ He sat down on the edge of her bed and stroked her hair.
She turned and looked at him, her face stained with tears. ‘Papa, you don’t understand.’
‘Why, what’s happened?’
‘He’s lost his foot – frostbite, they said, and gangrene. I don’t really know what that is.’
Giacomo blanched. ‘It’s a dangerous infection,’ he began calmly. ‘To save the man, the limb has to be severed. It sounds like he’s lucky to be alive.’
‘But his foot, Papa. He was so strong and handsome, and now he has only one foot – how will he get about?’
‘I don’t know, Livia. And it’s a terrible shock, I understand that. But he’s alive. This is the miracle you were hoping for.’
Over the following weeks, Livia adjusted to the idea of Cosimo’s injury, grateful for the distraction of monitoring the radio. The calm, gentle manner of the presenter, Colonel Stephens, gave