The Italian Girls - Debbie Rix Page 0,73

by the stench of damp. The basement was a large gloomy space, with an arched ceiling. Between the arches were wide bays lined with shelves, holding elaborate-looking gilded jars, glinting in the glow of the lamps.

‘What is this place?’ whispered Livia. ‘And what is in those jars?’

‘It’s the Society for the Cremation of Cadavers,’ said Rosa, winking. ‘And those jars are urns…’

‘Seriously?’ Livia shuddered.

‘The president of the society is a leading member of our organisation,’ Rosa continued. ‘That coffin there’ – she pointed to a vast ornate oak coffin in the centre of the room – ‘is filled with ammunition and weapons. Now, follow me – the meeting is being held in the next room.’

Rosa pushed open a door and Livia heard female chatter. Through the gloom she could see twenty or so other young women – looking just like schoolgirls waiting to go on into class.

‘Who are all these girls?’ Livia asked.

‘All sorts,’ Rosa explained. ‘Students, like us, but also secretaries, shop girls, wives…’

‘I had no idea,’ said Livia. ‘I thought there might be a couple of us at most.’

‘Oh no! I suspect there are hundreds of us in little groups around the city. All desperate to do something to support the Resistance.’

Rosa took Livia’s arm and led her to a woman with short dark curly hair, dressed in trousers and a cream shirt. She looked strong and capable, Livia thought.

‘Adreana,’ said Rosa, ‘this is Livia.’

‘Ah good, we’ve been expecting you, thanks for coming.’

Adreana grabbed a chair and stood up on it in the centre of the room. ‘Hello everyone,’ she announced. ‘My name is Adreana and I’m delighted to see so many of you here today. You’re all here because you want to support the Resistance movement.’

The young women smiled and nodded.

‘Many of you have brothers or husbands fighting in the war – young men who are disillusioned and angry. Now it’s your turn to do something about it. The Germans are working alongside the Fascist Italian police to control us. Our job is to fight back – disrupt where we can. But secrecy is paramount; no one can be trusted. Already we are hearing stories of cells of partisans being infiltrated and betrayed by spies.’ The girls looked at each other disbelievingly. ‘I know it seems incredible,’ said Adreana, ‘but trust no one – only each other.’

Livia’s life was suddenly filled with urgent, adrenalin-fuelled work. It was everything she had hoped for over the summer, as she sat up in the peaceful hills fearing life was passing her by. She monitored broadcasts and coded messages. She wrote for the Pd’A newspaper. From time to time, she was assigned the job of delivering caches of weapons, and even bombs and grenades. The safest method of concealing such illegal cargo was in a pram, hidden under a toy baby wrapped in blankets. But one of Livia’s colleagues – a young mother named Maria – was happy to put her own baby, a charming one-year-old named Francesco, on top of the weapons.

One day, Livia and Maria were delivering a pramful of grenades to some Resistance fighters in a hideout near the Arno. As they walked towards the drop-off point, they were approached by a pair of German soldiers.

Livia touched Maria’s arm anxiously.

‘Don’t worry,’ said Maria calmly. ‘Francesco will deal with them.’

The young men stopped, leant into the pram and admired the baby, who gurgled appreciatively.

‘What else do you have in there?’ one of the soldiers asked.

‘Only bombs,’ Maria said coolly, winking at him.

The soldiers laughed and moved on.

Livia and Maria safely delivered their cargo, hugging each other afterwards, delighted by their daring and luck.

It was the first day of the winter term, and Livia approached the university building with mixed feelings. She was excited at the prospect of seeing Elena and Cosimo again, but less enthusiastic about the prospect of attending lectures and writing essays. Her life in the Resistance had superseded everything else. The entrance hall echoed with the voices of hundreds of young people arriving for their first day of term. She recognised several of her fellow staffettas, but they had all been briefed to behave normally, ignoring each other if possible. Rosa walked past her and briefly touched her hand, glancing sideways and smiling at their shared secrets.

Looking around her, Livia finally spotted Cosimo leaning against a marble column and ran over to him.

‘Livia darling,’ he said, embracing her. ‘I’m so happy to see you.’

‘And I you, it’s been far too long. You look different somehow,’ she

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