She flicked away a tear. ‘Yes, he hand-reared it himself.’ She brought out the carving. ‘He made this for me. There’s another part to it, but I gave it to him to keep.’ She nodded determinedly. ‘One day the two parts will be slotted back together.’
She picked up another photo. ‘This is me and Nico on our wedding day, here in this very church.’
Max grinned. ‘You look scared to death.’
‘Aye, well, I’m not fond of heights and we were standing on the edge of the cliff. Nico’s idea.’ She picked through the contents again. ‘Oh, and here’s the pebble that Eva gave to me. Of course you know all about that.’
He glanced at the floor, shaking his head. ‘Terrible day,’ he whispered. ‘I’ll never forgive myself for not stepping in.’
‘There was nothing you could’ve done, Max. Please don’t be so hard on yourself.’
He inhaled deeply and stared at the rafters. ‘Lieber Gott, I hate this war, Jenny.’ He smoothed his hand over the lid of the box, his fingers coming to rest on the carved initial. ‘It seems cruel to ask you to part with this.’
‘Yeah, well, Nico didn’t ask me, he told me.’ She sneaked a look at Max. ‘And a part of me can understand why. He is very . . . um . . . insecure, I suppose. I do love him but he doesn’t like to feel threatened by my past and any lingering feelings I may have for the people I was once close to.’
‘But still, your own brother?’
‘I know.’ She shrugged. ‘But it’s not that simple.’ She closed the lid of the box. ‘Nothing ever is.’
Light, hazy clouds drifted across the sky, tempering the intensity of the sun and making the walk down more comfortable. Max proved to be engaging company and it was easy to forget that their respective countries were sworn enemies. She hadn’t felt this carefree in a long time. He insisted on walking ahead this time, checking for loose stones or invading vegetation, ensuring the path was clear. She was still reflecting on what an unexpectedly glorious afternoon she’d had when he stopped without warning, causing her to barrel into him.
‘Oh, sorry,’ she laughed. ‘What is it? Why’ve you stopped?’
He stared down at the harbour below. The sparkling sea still lapped against the pebbles, but it appeared that at least one of the buildings was shrouded in thick smoke, choking curls of it only partially obscuring the flash of fire.
‘Nein!’ he shouted. ‘Nein.’ He clasped his hands to his head, then dropped to his knees in the dirt, his glasses falling onto the stones, one lens popping out.
Jenny stared at the unfolding carnage, unable to move. ‘Oh my God, the café. No, no, it can’t be. Eva!’ she screamed. ‘Please, please not Eva.’
55
2019
I’m shivering now, but it’s got nothing to do with the drop in temperature. The colour has drained from Candice’s face and her features are frozen in shock.
My voice quivers as I speak. ‘This is why I had to come, Candice. It’s seventy-five years since that dreadful day, the day the population of Cinque Alberi was massacred. Innocent people, children included, who had done nothing wrong.’
Candice seems to have trouble finding her voice. ‘But . . . what happened?’
‘A reprisal attack. The Germans and their fascist allies wanted their revenge. They had to send out a message to the partisans; somebody had to pay and they didn’t care who. It was indiscriminate and wicked, but the resistance had to be quashed in any way possible. The message was unequivocal.’
She scoops her hand through her hair and her words come out as no more than a breathless whisper. ‘And Eva?’
I close my eyes and bite down on my lip. I can do it. I’ve come this far. ‘Max took hold of my hand and we stumbled down the hillside together, neither of us saying anything. It took us, I don’t know, maybe another half-hour to reach the bottom, but we could see there was a blockade of German troops, all standing with their weapons poised. I lurched towards them but Max grabbed my shoulder and pulled me back. He knew I would be shot on sight, but at that moment all I cared about was reaching Eva. The noise was deafening, shots were being fired every second, and I thought my head would explode. Screams of pure terror cut through the carnage. The smoke was so thick and noxious that my eyes streamed and I could barely see. The smell of burning flesh made me retch right there on the street. Max led me away to a deserted alley and pressed me against the wall, his face only inches from mine. “I’m so sorry, Jenny,” he said. Then he wrapped me in his arms and held me tight as he fought back his own tears.’
Candice picks up her glass and I can see her hands are trembling. ‘Were there any survivors?’
‘Only the few lucky enough to have been out of town. Every person there that day was rounded up and shot. Imagine being dragged from your house and being forced to watch as your neighbours were summarily executed, knowing that you would be next. The bodies from the café were unrecognisable, some fused together, others completely incinerated. It’s difficult to put a number on it, but around a hundred and twenty people died that day, including Lena, Enzo and . . .’ I stop and pinch the bridge of my nose. ‘And Eva.’
‘Poor little thing,’ says Candice, the greatest understatement ever uttered.
‘If I’d sent her away as Nico had told me to, she wouldn’t have perished.’
She nods slowly. ‘And if you’d not gone for that walk with Max, you’d have died too.’
I’m annoyed that she has picked up on this so quickly. It makes me sound selfish. I should have been at home protecting Eva, instead of which I was cavorting with the enemy. ‘I’ve had seventy-five years to reconcile my actions, Candice. I don’t think I’m quite there yet, but after the remembrance service, I hope my conscience may be able to rest a little easier.’
‘Max must’ve known the attack was coming. Perhaps that’s why he took you out.’
I shake my head. ‘It was my idea to climb to the top of the peninsula. Max hadn’t been told any details of the attack, but he knew of others that had already taken place, so he was well aware of what they were capable of and felt he had to warn me.’ My heart swells with pride as I remember the risk he took. ‘There were many different divisions of the Wehrmacht and the SS involved in reprisal massacres, but the one based in Cinque Alberi was not responsible for that one.’
‘And Nico?’ asks Candice. ‘What happened to him?’
‘He was shell-shocked. Blamed himself, naturally, but he wasn’t responsible for the attack on the German patrol that sparked the revenge. To this day, historians are divided on the subject, but without doubt the partisans contributed to winning the country’s freedom from both the foreign invader and that home-grown lunatic. They were heroes in my book.’
Candice is nodding along, but I suspect she doesn’t really understand the many nuances of this particular subject. I’m not even sure I do. ‘These days, Nico would have been diagnosed with post-traumatic stress, but that wasn’t a thing back then. He took the death of his parents really hard. It changed him, Candice.’ I give her a hard stare. ‘And I wish I could say it was for the better.’
56
1946
She stumbled along the rocky path, Nico tightening his grip on her arm. ‘Ow, you’re hurting me.’
‘Stop whining, Jennifer. That is all you ever do these days. I’m sick of hearing it.’
She fought to keep pace with him as he dragged her up the track, the loose stones under her feet as slippery as marbles. His mood had been foul since she’d told him that morning that her period had come and once again there would be no baby.
He had been incandescent when she’d broken the news. ‘Why are you doing this to me, Jennifer?’
‘Nico, it’s not my fault. I—’ He had silenced her with a slap to her face. Even though it wasn’t the first time he’d raised his hand in anger, she was stunned, the shock obliterating the pain of her stinging cheek.
In the immediate aftermath of the reprisal attack, he had returned from the mountains under cover
of darkness to see the devastation for himself. His grief was palpable, his guilt all-consuming. There were tens of thousands of partisans fighting for the cause, but he still blamed himself. He’d taken her back with him to the mountain hideaway, and together with the other partisans they had seen out the end of the war there, existing on foraged mushrooms, chestnuts and whatever villagers from the surrounding area were able to spare. After the war, they had returned to Cinque Alberi to begin the daunting task of rebuilding their lives, but the man she had fallen in love with, the man for whom she had given up everything, was gone. He became withdrawn, unpredictable and impossible to be around. He was like a hand grenade with the pin pulled out, ready to explode at the slightest knock.
She could feel her lungs burning as Nico pulled her along, his grip on her hand as tight as a vice. ‘Nico,’ she gasped. ‘Please stop . . . I can’t breathe.’
‘Stop it, Jennifer. There is nothing wrong with you. Why do you have to make such a drama out of everything?’ He gave her arm a savage tug. ‘We’re nearly there, so try to stop moaning.’
As the tiny church came into view, Jenny almost wept with relief. Sweat ran down into her eyes and she dabbed at them with the hem of her blouse. The sun’s blistering rays burned through her hat without mercy. ‘I . . . I need to sit down, Nico, please.’
‘You can rest after you have got down on your knees and prayed to God to give you the baby you seem so desperately determined not to conceive.’
‘I don’t do it on purpose, Nico.’
He let go of her hand and wiped his palm down his trousers as though her sweat disgusted him. His chest heaved with the effort of the climb as he turned away and stared at the horizon. ‘Three and a half years we’ve been married, Jennifer.’ He gestured towards the church. ‘Do you remember our wedding day, mia cara?’
‘Of course I do. It was—’
‘Where did it all go wrong?’
Without waiting for an answer, he walked to the edge of the cliff and held out his hand. ‘Come and join me.’
‘No, Nico, you know I don’t like heights.’
‘Come on,’ he urged. ‘I won’t let anything happen to you.’
Reluctantly she walked towards him, and fell gratefully into his outstretched arms.
‘There you are, see. It’s not too bad, is it?’ He removed her hat and stroked her hair. ‘I’ve got you, Jennifer. Now . . . look down.’
‘No, I’d rather not, Nico, if—’
He grabbed her hair, forcing her to look over the cliff edge at the swirling surf hundreds of feet below. As she watched the waves crash against the rocks, she struggled to keep the terror out of her voice. ‘All right, you’ve had your fun. Can we go back now?’
He laughed. ‘You do not appreciate the view?’
With her legs threatening to buckle, she had no choice but to cling onto him. She grabbed at his shirt. ‘Why are you doing this to me, Nico? Why are you being so cruel?’
‘Cruel? Oh no, Jennifer. It would only be cruel if you didn’t deserve it.’ He shuffled closer to the edge. ‘You have always been too strong-willed for your own good. You have never been the wife I wanted you to be.’
‘I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.’ She reached out to touch his face. ‘Look, I know you’re still grieving for your mamma and papà. I miss them too.’
‘How can you possibly understand?’ he snarled. ‘They were not your parents.’
She could feel her anger rising and fought to bring her voice under control. ‘I lost my mother too, don’t forget, and our Louis. I left him behind to be with you. That’s how much I love you, Nico. I made a huge sacrifice for you.’
He squeezed her arm until she cried out. ‘You owe me,’ he said. ‘Your brother would be dead by now if he’d come with us. Think about that. He’d have died along with Mamma and Papà and that kid you insisted on keeping instead of getting rid of like I asked you to.’ He moved his face so close to hers she could feel his fiery breath. ‘She paid with her life for your disobedience. You as good as killed her.’
‘Please, Nico, don’t say that.’
‘Why did you always want other people’s children in our lives? First it was your brother, and then Eva. I wanted a wife who could give me a baby, but you couldn’t even manage that. You’re just a useless cripple. A useless, barren cripple.’
In spite of her terror, she could hold back no longer. ‘And what makes you so sure it’s my fault we can’t have a baby?’
He laughed in her face. ‘You cannot be serious. I’m an Italian man. We are known for our virility. There is nothing wrong with me.’ He grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. ‘That womb of yours must be a hostile place. Like a desert incapable of supporting life.’
‘Oh really?’ She smiled at him. ‘Are you sure about that?’
‘You think this is funny?’
She glanced down at her feet, her toes perilously close to the edge. ‘I think it is hilarious, Nico.’ The adrenaline surging through her body gave her the confidence to carry on. ‘And I’ll tell you why, shall I?’ Unleashing her pent-up anger, she screamed into his face. ‘I know there is nothing wrong with me, because I’ve already had a baby.’
She felt his grip loosen. ‘You’re a liar,’ he managed, but there was no mistaking the doubt in his eyes.
She seized the opportunity to take a step away from the edge. ‘Remember that little boy you told me to forget about? He was my absolute world, but I still chose you over him.’ She could taste the anger now as she pummelled her fists into his chest. ‘Louis is not my brother. He’s my son.’
The world seemed to stop turning as Nico opened his mouth to speak. When no words came, his eyes narrowed and he clenched his teeth. ‘You are a whore,’ he finally managed. ‘A cheap, nasty little whore.’ Flecks of spittle had gathered in the corners of his mouth.
‘I gave up everything for you, Nico, including my own son. You forbade me to make contact with him and I respected your wishes even though it nearly killed me. And I can’t ever forgive you for that. It’s over, Nico. Us, I mean. We’re finished.’
She turned to leave, but he lunged for her arm, twisting it round her back.
She yelped at the bolt of pain. ‘Let go of me!’ She tried to wriggle free, but she was no match for his strength.
‘You cannot leave me, Jennifer. I will not allow it. You are my wife, you belong to me.’
With her arms restrained, she kicked out at his shin. Her foot connected with his bone to produce a gloriously satisfying crunch.
‘Aargh, you stupid bitch.’ He loosened his grip for a split second, but it was all the time she needed. She brought her knee up between his legs, and he stumbled backwards, turning away from her as his hands went to cradle his groin. With his pathetic groans resounding in her ears, she shoved him hard in the back.
The earth beneath his feet crumbled, dislodging stones that cascaded into the sea. He lost his footing and slipped over the edge. Twisting his body, he made a desperate grab for a tuft of grass, his knuckles turning white as he literally clung on for his life.
‘Jennifer,’ he gasped. ‘Help me.’
She crawled to the edge and peered over, staring into his wild eyes. Realising the horror of what she had just done, she gripped his wrists and attempted to pull him back.
‘Nico, please, you’ll have to use your legs. I can’t do it by myself.’ She felt his hands begin to slide through hers.
‘Please, Jennifer,’ he begged. ‘Don’t let me go. I love you. Please, I’m sorry. We can make this right again.’
‘I . . . can’t . . . do . . . it,’ she said, her voice straining with the effort. ‘My hands are too sweaty and I’m not strong enough.’
‘You are, Jennifer. Please, come on, you can do it.’
She shook her head, tears blurring her vision. ‘I’m so sorry, Nico.’
‘No, no, Jennifer . . .’
Her name bounced off the cliff face as his hands slipped out of hers and his primal
scream was carried away on the wind.
57
2019
Candice runs her hand through her hair, her eyes wide with incredulity. It’s a lot to take in. ‘You . . . you had a son. Louis was your child? And . . . and you killed Nico.’
She doesn’t frame those last few words as a question, and perhaps she’s right not to. I pushed Nico on purpose; that part was no accident. I may have tried to pull him back when I saw what I had done, but make no mistake, I was responsible. I had to protect myself, though, and I was ever so good at playing the distraught young widow, arriving breathless at the police station several hours later. Although I couldn’t see how anybody could’ve have survived that fall, I had to make sure. Nico was the only person who could have contradicted my account.’
‘My God, Jenny,’ breathes Candice. ‘You killed your husband.’
‘It wasn’t my intention to kill him, Candice. I shoved him too hard. It was an accident.’
‘But . . . why?’ She’s looking down at her lap, so I can’t tell what she’s thinking. I know there’s no excuse for what I did. Nico may have become cruel, unreasonable and impossible to live with, but he didn’t deserve that.
‘I just snapped, Candice. He was taunting me over Eva. Making me believe that I was responsible for her death.’ I shake my head. ‘That was wicked.’
Candice is picking at her nails, studiously avoiding my gaze.
I instinctively rub my cheek as I remember the shock I’d felt as his hand whipped across my face. ‘I’m not making excuses for his behaviour, but the war changed him. The boy I fell in love with would never have raised a hand to me.’
She finally meets my eye. ‘I know what you’re thinking, but Beau is nothing like Nico. He has never once hit me. He wouldn’t do that.’
I’m surprised she’s made the connection but thankful the spotlight has been turned off me. As tragic as Nico’s death was, I don’t wish to dwell on this part of my story. ‘Are you sure, Candice?’
The Memory Box Page 28
