Page 70 of The Tuscan Child
“Yes,” he agreed. “You’d better go or that child will come back looking for you.”
“Take care, Ugo.” She reached up and kissed his cheek. Then she ran out.
“Sorry, Gianni,” he heard her calling. “I could not find my basket in the darkness. It is nothing but rubble in there now. And unstable. I shall have to come back for it in the morning.”
Darkness had fallen. Hugo got out his lighter and made his way down the stairs to light his candle. He felt horribly vulnerable, trapped. If he stayed down here he would not be able to run if he was found. He lit his candle and carried his belongings upstairs and back to his former hiding place. It was cold and damp and uninviting, but he set up his bed and then dragged over more splintered pieces of wood to conceal himself. In the daylight he’d have to do a better job, and maybe close up the crypt again. The thought of the partisans finding the painting and maybe even taking it to sell or barter made him want to go down and take it off the wall immediately. But his candle was burning low—who knew how much fluid remained in his lighter? He couldn’t chance finding himself down there in complete darkness, possibly becoming trapped. He retrieved the basket and ate the soup that Sofia had brought for him. Another bleak thought struck him. If the partisans were really going to use this as a meeting place, then Sofia could not risk coming here again. He would have to come to a decision and take action soon. He could now put some weight on his injured leg. Maybe it was time to go and trust his luck.
He settled himself in the narrow space and spent a miserable night alert for the smallest sound. At some time during the long hours of darkness, he thought he heard gunshots, or it could have been thunder. The night dragged on for an eternity, and he was relieved to see the first streaks of cold daylight. They wouldn’t come during daylight, he was sure. This site was too open and exposed. That gave him time to think and plan. He went down the steps and stood in front of the painting of the Child Jesus. Even in the semi-darkness it seemed to glow with an inner light. It still took his breath away.I must find a safe hiding place for it,he thought. He moved around the small crypt. There was space behind some of the tombs, but any thorough search would uncover the painting quickly. There was also a gap behind the altar.A possibility,he thought.
He was still down there when he heard footsteps up above. He swore under his breath, realising he had left his revolver and knife tucked with his belongings. Looking around, he could come up with nowhere to hide other than behind the carved stonework screen—hardly a secure hiding place. “Caught like a rat in a trap,” he muttered.
He heard the feet come to the top of the steps and saw a shadow blocking the daylight. A voice called softly, “Ugo? Are you down there?”
“Sofia?” He let out a huge sigh of relief and hurried to meet her. “I didn’t expect you again so soon, and in daylight. You mustn’t take such risks, please.”
“Bad news,” she said, gasping as if she had run all the way. “Terrible news, Ugo. Gianni was right that our local partisans were planning a raid. But someone must have tipped off the Germans. They were waiting for them, and all were slaughtered except for Cosimo.”
“How come he managed to get away?” Hugo, who had taken a dislike to Cosimo without ever meeting him, was instantly suspicious.
“It was a miracle. The first bullet just grazed his shoulder. He flung himself to the ground, and the body of one of his comrades fell on top of him. He said he lay there while the soldiers went around driving their bayonets into the bodies to make sure they were really dead. He didn’t dare move for hours. When daylight came he crawled out and made his way home. I’ve never seen a man look more exhausted and distraught.”
“So someone tipped off the Germans. That means you have a spy in your midst.”
“Maybe not in San Salvatore. These men come from other villages, too. Some are not even originally from around here—they are soldiers who fled from their regiments rather than be taken prisoners of war by the Germans. One of them could have been planted as a spy.”
“All too easily,” he agreed. “But at least this is good news for me, for us, isn’t it? They will not be using this as a meeting place.”
She shook her head. She was crying now. “But it is worse than you think. German trucks came into the village first thing this morning. They questioned everybody about the partisans, and they said they were going over the bodies and if they identified one of them as coming from this village then we would all be shot.”
“And Cosimo? Did they find him?”
“No. He escaped out into the fields when someone saw the trucks coming. He will have to stay hidden, I think.”
“This is terrible,” Hugo said.
She nodded. “It is more than terrible. The major in charge also asked us about an English airman. They said your plane had just been discovered and there were only two bodies in it and nobody in the pilot’s seat. They asked if anybody had seen or heard any rumour of an Englishman hiding out. Nobody had seen anything. Nobody said anything. Then this German said if it was found that any of us had helped an enemy, the whole village would suffer. You should have seen his face. He was actually looking forward to massacring all of us, I’m sure.”
She stared at him, her eyes bleak and hopeless.
“Then I must get away now,” Hugo said. “And you must come with me, Sofia.” He took her hand.
She turned away. “I can’t leave my son, or my husband’s grandmother.”
“Bring Renzo with you. You want to save your son, don’t you? The neighbours will take care of the old lady, and it won’t be for long. We’ll go south. We’ll find a way.”
“But how can you walk? Your leg still is not strong enough.”
This was all too true.
“Where is the nearest transportation? Are there no buses, trains?”
“There is a train line down in the Serchio Valley, about ten miles from here. The train goes to Lucca. I do not know if that is still in territory controlled by the Germans. And I do not even know if trains are still running. And to travel you must show documents. They would find you.”
“Then we must try to steal a German car or truck.”
“And how is that less dangerous than staying where I am and praying that nobody has seen me?” Her voice was shrill now.
“And if they decide to shoot the whole village?” His voice had risen, too, echoing back from the walls. “I want to save you, Sofia. I want to protect you. I’ll give myself up to them. I’ll say I was hiding out in the countryside and nobody aided me.”
