be watching their every move.
The attic rooms, now cleared of their contents, were ready for cleaning. To her surprise, Livia discovered that the smaller of the two was, in fact, a disused bathroom, consisting of a rather grubby lavatory and an old washbasin, which clearly hadn’t been used for decades. She turned on the rusty taps; at first they rattled and wheezed, but eventually brownish water spurted out. Then, armed with bleach, polish and cloths, she scrubbed the attic clean.
‘You’ve made a fine job of it,’ said Giacomo, when he went upstairs that evening. ‘And just in time too.’
Livia looked at him expectantly.
‘Yes,’ he said smiling, ‘we’ve been assigned a family.’
‘Who? What are their names?’ Livia asked excitedly.
‘I don’t know yet, but they’re a young couple with a child.’
‘How old is the child?’
‘Three or four, I think.’ Giacomo looked around him and shivered. ‘I’m worried it will be too cold. The wind whistles through that roof – that’s why I stopped using it as an office.’
‘Well, they only need to sleep up here,’ Livia suggested. ‘They can come downstairs for meals and a hot bath. Have you had any luck finding camp beds?’
‘Yes, someone in the Pd’A has two spare camp beds, and a little mattress we can borrow for the child. Where did you hide the radio?’
‘It’s over there in the corner in that little cupboard. But I’ll take it to my room after this evening’s bulletin.’
They went back downstairs, closing the door to the apartment behind them. Livia stopped and frowned, looking at the door.
‘There’s one problem,’ she began. ‘How can we conceal this door? If the authorities searched the apartment, they’d easily find the family upstairs.’
Giacomo nodded. ‘We could hide the door to the attic,’ he suggested. ‘Perhaps put some furniture in front of it.’
They looked around them.
‘What about this?’ Livia pointed to the coat rack opposite the front door. ‘Covered with coats and hats, it would conceal it completely.’
‘Perfect,’ said her father, ‘let’s drag it into position.’
Within a couple of days, Giacomo had made the arrangements to collect the Jewish family. ‘They’re sheltering temporarily in a church. I’ll pick them up as late as possible before the curfew, just before it gets dark.’
‘You must be careful when you bring them into the building,’ said Livia. ‘Signor Lombardi has ears and eyes everywhere.’
‘Don’t worry,’ her father said calmly. ‘Lombardi’s not such a bad old man.’
That afternoon, a dense fog descended on the city, and visibility was down to a metre.
‘The conditions are perfect,’ her father said, as he peered out the kitchen window. ‘No one will see anything in this weather. I’ll fetch them now.’
Livia began to prepare a simple soup with some meat bones she had found at the market that morning. She laid a small fire in the sitting room using the last of their firewood. But she was nervous and kept darting to the window every few minutes, keeping a watchful eye on the road below. She jumped when she heard her father’s key in the lock, and ran into the hall.
‘Thank God you’re back,’ she whispered as she hugged him, ‘I was beginning to worry.’
‘We’re fine, we’re fine,’ Giacomo said calmly, closing the apartment door behind him. ‘Jacob, Sara, this is my daughter, Livia.’
The couple smiled politely, but Livia could see they were terrified and exhausted, with dark rings around their eyes and anxious looks on their faces.
‘Let me take your coats,’ she said gently, ‘you must be tired.’
The man smiled, and put down their suitcases. He removed his trilby hat, which he handed to Livia. He was tall and bearded, with dark hair and a gentle expression. His wife was small, with curly fair hair framing her round face. When she removed her coat, Livia could see she was already some months pregnant. A small boy with a crop of blond hair peeped out from behind his mother’s skirts.
‘And who is this?’ Livia asked, crouching down to him.
‘I’m Matteo,’ he said shyly.
‘It’s lovely to meet you, Matteo,’ Livia replied, standing up. ‘Now, please come into the sitting room. We managed to find a little firewood, so it’ll soon be nice and warm.’
The woman eased herself slowly into an armchair. Her son leaned against her legs, his head in her lap.
‘When is your baby due?’ Livia asked.
‘March,’ Sara replied.
‘How exciting,’ said Livia. ‘Is Matteo looking forward to having a brother or sister?’
The little boy removed the thumb from his mouth. ‘I’m having a baby,’ he said proudly.
They all laughed, and Sara ruffled the