Good article by the way – excellent.’
‘Thank you.’ She blushed slightly, touched by her father’s praise. ‘Now, I must go, or I’ll be late for Villa Triste. Can you look after the family?’
‘Of course.’ He was already scribbling on a notepad.
‘You promise not to get too bogged down in your work?’ she asked. ‘I know what you’re like. A bomb could go off around you and you’d have no idea.’
‘We’ll all be fine. You take care. Off you go.’
Livia hurried through the streets, arriving at Villa Triste just before nine o’clock. The waiting room was empty, the reception desk unmanned. Relieved that she wasn’t late, she sat down.
Half an hour went by, before the German officer she had met during her interrogation appeared in the waiting room. ‘Fräulein… come with me.’
She followed him anxiously down the corridor.
‘You are to go with our soldiers today,’ he said.
‘Why?’ she asked warily.
‘We have reason to believe a number of Jews are being hidden somewhere, and I need you to be there when they are arrested.’
Her heart began to race. Had they discovered Sara and Jacob already? ‘Jews?’ she asked. ‘Where?’
‘The Church of Santa Maria Novella,’ he replied, ‘near the station.’
‘I’m not sure I can come now,’ she said feebly, ‘I have a lecture.’
‘Du musst,’ he insisted.
‘How do you know the Jews are in there?’ Livia asked the soldiers as they crossed the piazza towards an impressive grey marble church.
The soldiers ignored her question, pushing her ahead of them.
As they passed a group of market stallholders, one of the women called out to Livia in the local Florentine patois. ‘What are these soldiers doing here?’
Livia, desperate to get a message to the Jews, replied in the same dialect: ‘To arrest some Jews hiding in the church. Go and warn them.’
The soldiers stopped in their tracks and one of them grabbed her by the arm demanding to know what she had said. ‘Was hast du zu diesen Frauen gesagt?’
Out of the corner of her eye, Livia noticed one of the women had slipped away and was running towards the church. She was desperate to keep the soldier occupied while she gave them some kind of explanation. Perhaps they would believe she was asking if there was a back door – some way of escape. It would convince them she was on their side.
‘Ich habe sehn gesacht – “es eine Hintertür?”’ she told them.
‘Und ist da?’ asked the soldier.
‘Nein,’ she replied.
When they arrived at the church, the soldiers barged through the main doors, dragging Livia along with them. The church was almost empty with just a handful of parishioners kneeling in the pews, their heads bowed. They turned round in alarm at the sound of steel-tipped boots clattering on the marble floor and raised German voices. Livia could see there was a Mass in progress – at the high altar a priest in coloured vestments stood with his back to the congregation, his hands raised, as if calling on God for help. The soldiers ran up the aisle shouting, ‘Wo sind die Juden?’
The priest continued with his prayers, but the parishioners began to stand up, muttering amongst themselves and shuffling up the aisle towards the main doors.
‘Wo sind die Juden?’ one of the soldiers shouted again. He grabbed Livia, pulled her up the altar steps and thrust her bodily against the priest. He made the sign of the cross and turned to face her, smiling beatifically.
‘Please,’ she whispered, ‘I’m sorry, but they’re here to arrest the Jews. I tried to warn you; did they get out in time?’
‘Bless you,’ he said. ‘Take them to the crypt – they will find nothing. It’s the door over there.’
She beckoned to the soldiers and led them to a small arched doorway in the corner, standing aside as the men ran down the stone stairs, shouting loudly. She heard the sound of metal ornaments crashing to the ground.
The priest joined her and put his hand on her shoulder. She found his presence comforting. The soldiers ran back up the stairs. They pushed Livia aside, and hurled the priest up against the wall. He grimaced in pain.
‘Wo sind die Juden?’ they screamed at him.
He shook his head in a bemused fashion, looking from one soldier to another.
‘Where are the Jews?’ Livia asked the priest, although it was obvious that he had understood.
Once again, he shook his head and shrugged. The soldiers dragged him outside into the square, where a small crowd was gathering. Livia pushed her way through. One of the