The Memory Box

by Kathryn Hughes

  He threw his hands in the air. ‘Jennifer, you are putting at risk everything we are fighting for here. I told you to get rid of the girl. It’s dangerous to harbour Jews.’

  ‘Get rid? Are you insane?’

  He exhaled slowly, his voice calmer but no less firm. ‘Look, I’m not suggesting you turn her over to the Nazis.’ He stroked a finger down her cheek. ‘I’m not that heartless. But you need to get her to another place of safety. She can’t stay in my house.’

  ‘Why not? They know she is there.’

  He laid a tender hand on her shoulder, but his bony fingers were menacing rather than comforting. ‘You’ve got to trust me. It will be used against you. They are just biding their time. They set a trap and you walked straight into it.’

  ‘I can’t let her go, Nico, please.’ She allowed the tears to fall freely, couldn’t have stopped them even if she’d wanted to. ‘I know it’s only been a couple of months, but I’ve grown to love her. She trusts me, and she’s got nobody else. She’s never even known her father, and now her mother’s . . . well, who knows what’s happened to Vanda. I’m her second chance. Please, Nico,’ she ended breathlessly.

  ‘Jennifer, I am telling you she has to go.’ He lifted his hand to scratch his head, and she flinched instinctively.

  ‘Don’t look so frightened, mia cara. I’m not going to hurt you.’ He placed his lips against her ear. ‘I love you.’ He let his hand slide to her stomach. ‘We don’t need anybody else’s child in our lives. We will have our own one day soon.’ He looked into her eyes. ‘Perhaps even now there is a baby.’

  The shutters were closed when Jenny returned to the café. The chairs had been turned upside down on the tables and the wooden floor swept clean of the day’s detritus. Lena sat in the back room with Eva on her knee, snuggled up against her chest as she read from The Adventures of Pinocchio. She looked up when she heard Jenny enter. ‘You’ve been longer than I thought. I was beginning to worry. How was my boy?’

  ‘Fine. Can I talk to you, Lena?’

  ‘Of course. Can it wait, though? Geppetto is about to be swallowed by the Terrible Dogfish.’

  ‘Now, please, Lena.’ Jenny reached for Eva’s hand, addressing her in Italian. ‘Go and put your nightdress on, tesora.’ She picked up one of the child’s plaits, running her fingers along its length. ‘I’ll be up to comb your hair out shortly.’

  With the little girl safely out of the way, she crashed into the chair opposite Lena. The older woman leaned forward. ‘You look so tired, Jenny. I don’t like the idea of you going up there alone. I know you miss Nico, but it is dangerous.’

  ‘I’m fine, Lena, it’s not me you need to worry about.’

  Lena leaned forward and patted her knee. ‘It will soon be over. The Allies are moving closer every day. You have to keep the faith. It’s worrying, but Nico knows what he is doing.’ She clasped her hands together in prayer. ‘God protect him, he is so brave. My son the warrior.’

  Jenny couldn’t help herself. ‘Your son the warrior says Eva has to go.’

  ‘What? Go where?’

  She shrugged. ‘A place of safety. She can’t stay here any more. He says his word is final.’

  ‘We’ll see about that.’ Lena pressed herself out of her chair and hollered up the stairs. ‘Enzo, come down here now, please.’

  He appeared moments later, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. ‘What is all the noise? Can’t a man have a quiet nap? Your voice could trouble the dead, Lena.’

  ‘It is Nico; he says that Eva has to go.’

  Enzo settled himself on the arm of his wife’s chair, a reassuring hand on her shoulder. ‘Perhaps it is for the best.’

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘It is dangerous for both her and us. You cannot trust the Germans. They play games.’

  Lena drew herself up to her full height and crossed her arms in defiance. ‘Over my dead body. Eva stays, and that is the last time we ever have this discussion.’

  Jenny’s heart swelled with love and admiration for her mother-in-law. ‘Thank you, Lena.’

  The next morning Jenny crept into Eva’s room and sat down on the bed. The little girl stirred in her sleep, her hair spread in dark waves across the pillow. Her mouth twitched at the corner as she sought out her thumb.

  ‘Morning, darling,’ whispered Jenny, kissing her forehead.

  Eva opened her eyes and rolled onto her back, her voice thick with sleep. ‘Is Mamma coming back today?’

  ‘No, not today, Eva.’ She had lost count of how many times the little girl had enquired after her mother. They had heard terrible things about the camps, but there was no definite news on Vanda. They had only been told that Jews were a threat to society and had to be removed.

  ‘Let’s go to the beach, shall we? See if we can find any more beautiful pebbles.’ She pulled Eva into her arms, revelling in the warm smell of sleep. She buried her nose in Eva’s hair and rocked her to and fro. ‘I’ll never let you go, Eva,’ she whispered. ‘I’ve already had to leave my little brother, and nobody is going to take you away from me.’

  Eva stared at her, a questioning look in her eye. ‘I want to stay with you. I have to stay here so that Mamma will know where to find me when she comes back.’

  Jenny managed a smile. ‘That’s right. You’re going nowhere.’

  53

  2019

  I’m staring at the photo of the child I came to think of as my daughter. She looks happy as she beams into the camera. Such a resilient, brave little thing.

  ‘Are you all right, Jenny?’ Candice asks. ‘Do you want to go to bed?’

  I wave her away. ‘I loved that little one like she was my own flesh and blood. Everything I felt for our Louis, I poured into her. Seeing the world through a child’s eyes again made me miss Louis even more, and I was overcome with homesickness. I was lonely. Oh, I know I had Lena and Enzo, and I was fond of them, but it wasn’t the same. I still slept on my own every night, while my husband hid in the mountains. I craved affection and I missed him so much. I fretted about him constantly. No mercy was shown to captured partisans.’

  ‘How did he feel about you not sending Eva away?’ Candice asks.

  I shake my head. ‘Furious, as you might expect. But Lena too was adamant that she should stay, so he accepted it eventually.’

  My voice cracks as I remember the joy Eva brought me. ‘I taught her to read in English, you know. I’d brought my treasured copy of Anne of Green Gables and I was chuffed to bits when she loved that story as much as I did.’ I look at Candice, my lips trembling. ‘We didn’t know it then, but Eva was an orphan herself by that time.’

  ‘Ah, bless,’ says Candice, touching her heart with her fingertips. ‘What happened to her then?’

  Candice is so impatient. Always wanting to skip ahead.

  I stare out across the moonlit bay, the peninsula silhouetted against the darkening sky. My voice is barely a whisper. ‘It pains me to admit it, but Nico was right. I should have sent her away.’

  54

  1944

  Max was sitting on the wall, a sketchbook laid across his knee. He was so engrossed in his work he didn’t realise she was standing behind him. His hand moved freely, the charcoal strokes caressing the thick paper.

  ‘That’s really very good, Max. I didn’t know you could draw.’

  ‘Oh,’ he said, turning round. ‘You startled me.’ He laid the charcoal down. ‘There are many, many things you don’t know about me.’ He stared at the horizon. ‘I have almost forgotten who I am myself. This war, it is tearing me apart.’

  She longed to put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, but there were prying eyes everywhere. Nobody could be trusted. Perhaps not even Max himself. She pushed the thought away, knowing instinctively that he would not betray her. She couldn’t afford to be wrong about this.

  He pointed to the object of his sketch, a seabird perched on an upturned fishing boat. ‘It is an Austernfischer.’

  Jenny looked at the bird’s beady
red eye and long orange beak. ‘An oystercatcher. It’s beautiful.’

  ‘Just a few more strokes here and there and it will be finished.’

  ‘I assume you got the paper and charcoal from the villa. The youngest Grimaldi child is a particularly good artist, I gather.’

  ‘I did, but I don’t intend to take it away. I will leave the drawing for them as a gift, you know, a thank you for letting us use their villa.’

  ‘You make it sound like they had a choice.’

  He stared at the bird as it flapped its wings and took off, flying low over the sea. ‘I’m not proud of my fellow countrymen, Jenny. This is war and I hate it as much as you do.’

  She removed her handkerchief from her sleeve, running her fingers over the fine embroidery. ‘This war has already taken so much from me, Max. My mother died under the rubble of her own house after one of your bombs aimed a direct hit.’ She cast him an accusing glance, as though he himself had been piloting the plane. ‘I promised her I would take care of our darling Louis, and yet he won’t even reply to my letters. We were so close once, and now there’s a chasm between us and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to bridge it.’ She paused for a steadying breath. ‘And Lorcan. I’ll never forgive myself for what I did to him. He was the sweetest boy to ever walk this earth. His mother was right. I didn’t deserve him.’

  Max laid his hand on her arm. ‘I doubt that, Jenny, you are—’

  She shook him off. ‘No, don’t feel sorry for me. It’s all my fault.’ She stared at him through narrowed eyes, unable to keep the bitter tone from her voice. ‘But none of it would have happened if your country hadn’t started this dreadful war.’

  Max looked down at his sketch, nodding slowly. ‘As I said, I hate it as much as you do.’ He rolled up the sheet and slipped it into his pocket. ‘Would you care to take a little walk? There’s something I want to talk to you about.’ He glanced up at the villa. ‘But not here.’

  ‘Oh, I’m not sure that’s wise. In any case, I should really get back and help Lena and Enzo in the café, and I promised I’d read Eva some more of her book. She was taking a nap when I left, but she’ll be up and about soon enough.’

  Max nodded, his downcast eyes betraying his disappointment. ‘I understand. You’re right, perhaps it is dangerous for us to be out like this.’

  She felt herself bristle. She was still at liberty to engage in an innocent stroll with somebody she had come to regard as a friend. German he might be, but if she had judged him correctly, she was safe with him. ‘All right, Max, let’s take a walk.’

  She craved the company of somebody near her own age. Three months had passed since she had last seen Nico, and she was almost crippled with loneliness. His operations had become so clandestine that even she now had no idea of his whereabouts. She missed him every day, longed for his attention, his love, his touch. She wanted her Nico back. Not the embittered, hardened partisan he had become, but the vivacious, adoring man she had fallen in love with. He was still in there somewhere, she was sure of it.

  The afternoon sun blazed down as they walked along the shoreline, the glossy pebbles slippery underfoot. She lost her balance and Max steadied her, catching her elbow.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, immediately taking a step away from him. She could imagine the penetrating stares of the SS officers from the panoramic window of the Villa Verde. She would not give them any ammunition to use against her. They’d already taken enough from her.

  Max dabbed at the sweat on his forehead. ‘You and I may be on opposite sides in this war, Jenny,’ he began, ‘and I’m risking a lot just by talking to you like this, but you are my friend and I consider it a risk worth taking.’

  She squinted along the bay towards the imposing villa. ‘I don’t want you to get into any trouble, Max. Perhaps we should—’

  He shook his head. ‘Let’s just walk. Keep your head down and don’t react to what I tell you. I know you have your doubts about me and my motives, but I’m going to prove you can trust me.’

  They fell into step, side by side, as Max spoke quietly. ‘I don’t have all the details – I’m not party to the specific plans of the Waffen-SS – but I believe your husband is a wanted man. They suspect he is behind the massacre of a German battalion about ten miles from here.’ His voice faltered. ‘I think you should expect reprisals, Jenny. I don’t know where and I don’t know when, but it is happening everywhere. Partisan activity is not to go unpunished and they are exacting terrible revenge. Ten innocent civilians for every German killed.’

  She kept her gaze fixed on the beach ahead as instructed. She had no details about what Nico was doing, but she refused to believe he was capable of that level of violence. ‘No, that’s not right. I believe the partisans are only there to frustrate the occupying German forces.’

  ‘SS intelligence tells them that it was the work of Il Falco. I could be wrong – as I said, they don’t tell me anything – but I’ve heard the name mentioned.’

  She didn’t even flinch as she heard Nico’s code name, the Hawk.

  ‘They also suspect that you and your father-in-law take supplies to him in the mountains,’ Max continued, ‘and that your mother-in-law works as a staffetta, carrying messages between units. It is dangerous for you all, Jenny. Once they catch up with him – and it’s only a matter of time – you could all be arrested. I am gambling with my life by telling you all this, so I hope it proves I’m genuine. You saw straight through me from the start. You are right, I was sent to befriend you, to get you to reveal what you know, but you were too smart for me.’

  They had reached the tiny square at the end of the harbourfront. Out of sight of the villa now, he caught her arm and led her down a narrow side street.

  ‘I admire what your husband is doing, Jenny.’

  She looked at him in shock. ‘Really? Surely you don’t mean that.’

  ‘I do. It takes courage, with few weapons and little training, to rise up against an occupying force. The partisans are fighting for their freedom, against the invading enemy and also the enemy within.’

  ‘Fascism, you mean?’

  He nodded. ‘Exactly. Nico is putting his life on the line every day. I’ve seen what they do, the militant fascists, the Brigate Nere. They quite literally do not take any prisoners; it is only executions for them.’ He drew a finger across his throat, shaking his head gravely. ‘Your husband is a brave man, Jenny. You should be immensely proud of him.’

  She thought of Nico hunkered down in some shepherd’s hut in the forested mountains high above Cinque Alberi. The memory of their last meeting still caused her face to colour. The heat of the afternoon sun suddenly felt too oppressive. She leaned against a wall and blew out a few shallow breaths.

  ‘Are you feeling all right, Jenny?’

  ‘Fine.’ She sighed. She longed to feel the cool sea breeze on her clammy skin. She pointed to the top of the peninsula. ‘Have you been up there yet, Max?’

  He followed her finger. ‘No, I haven’t, but it looks wonderful.’

  ‘Are you game?’ She smiled.

  ‘Well, yes, but I thought you didn’t have long. What about the café?’

  She couldn’t actually remember the last time she had done anything approaching fun. There was no harm in it. Lena and Enzo could cope with Eva and the café. It was hardly a hive of activity these days. And if they couldn’t cope, she would face the consequences later.

  She grabbed his arm. ‘Come on then. What’re you waiting for?’

  By the time they reached the tiny church on the top of the cliff, they were both heaving with exhaustion. The sun still beat down with the ferocity of a blowtorch, but the breeze was more than enough to cool the blistering temperature.

  Jenny wiped her brow with the back of her hand. ‘You know, Max, it wasn’t so long ago that I wouldn’t have been able to manage that climb at all, let alone without my cane.’

  ‘You are an inspiration, Jenny. I am lost in admiration. You are strong and so beautiful
it—’

  She shook her head. ‘Stop, Max, please. You don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  Before he could protest, she gestured towards the door. ‘Let’s go inside. There’s something I want to show you.’

  Once inside, Max blinked in the gloom, waiting for his eyes to adjust. He shivered dramatically, rubbing his arms. ‘It’s like an ice box in here.’

  ‘You’ll soon get used to it.’ She made her way down the narrow aisle and stepped up onto the wooden pulpit.

  ‘Are you going to give me a sermon?’ he asked, removing his steamed-up glasses and squinting at her.

  ‘Believe me, I’m the last person who should be preaching to anybody.’ She crouched down and fumbled underneath the lectern before standing triumphantly, holding a key aloft. ‘Found it.’

  ‘What are you up to now, Jenny?’ Max queried, his eyes shining in quiet amusement.

  She inserted the key into an ancient walnut cupboard, the hinges creaking as she opened the door. Underneath a pile of hymn books lay a wooden box. She wrestled it free and sat down on the nearest pew. ‘Have a seat, Max.’

  He slid in next to her, his body so close to hers it made her skin tingle. ‘It was supposed to be for my jewels, but since I don’t have any, I use it to keep the things that are most precious to me, things that are more valuable to me than diamonds. Isn’t it beautiful?’

  He ran his fingers over the lid. ‘It certainly is, but what’s it doing up here?’

  She gave a deep sigh. ‘Father Ascarelli looks after it for me. It’s safer here. Nico told me to get rid of it, you see. Said it was a part of my past that I had to let go. That it had no place in our lives.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Max. ‘What’s in it?’

  She lifted the lid. ‘All sorts.’ She picked up a photograph, the sudden rush of sadness making it difficult for her to speak.

  ‘Jenny?’

  ‘This is our Louis,’ she sniffed.

  Max took the photograph, smiling. ‘Your brother? He looks so happy.’ He squinted at the picture of Louis’s beaming face. ‘Is that a lamb tucked under his arm?’