“You are fortunate here in Venice,” Paul Klee said. “Here Jews are not yet persecuted. I had to flee for my life from Germany, and now I must remain in Switzerland for my safety. In Germany, Jews are set upon every time we go out. They smash our windows. They shut our businesses. We cannot hold jobs or go to school, and now they come at night and take us away. The Contessa Fiorito is a wonderful woman, is she not? She has helped several of my friends escape.”

Franz had also come to the soirée. We didn’t see much of him these days, but I noticed he was listening intently to what was being said in English. Was he really, as Henry had suspected, a German spy? These days made everyone wary.

After Paul Klee’s speech, the consul drew me aside. “My dear, I think you should seriously consider going home while you can. We at the consulate have been notified that our days here are numbered and that we should be ready to leave at a moment’s notice. As of now, Italy has not declared war on Britain, but they have a pact of friendship with Hitler. It may only be a matter of time.”

“Thank you,” I said. “I am considering it. At this moment, France still seems to be peaceful and trains are still running.”

“But that could change overnight. Hitler is definitely poised to conquer Europe. He’ll strike when the time is right, and when he strikes, he’ll move with lightning speed. So I urge you not to leave it too late.”

I thanked him again and was glad when Josef came up with a plate of canapé s. How many people had now urged me to go home? Everyone I met. And yet if Germany invaded Britain, wouldn’t I be better off here, especially here in Venice, a city nobody would dare to bomb? I survived the evening without a mishap, keeping my shawl firmly draped over the safety pins holding my dress together, and made it home safely on the vaporetto. Henry, ever the gentleman, saw me home.

“I’d invite you up for a hot drink, but my landlady has said no gentlemen callers,” I said. This made him laugh.

“I hardly think I qualify as a gentleman caller,” he said, “but I’m flattered that she might think I was a danger to your honour.”

CHAPTER 30

CHAPTER 30

Juliet, Venice, November 21, 1939

There was a notice on the board at school announcing that classes would be optional today because it was the Festival of the Madonna Della Salute and we’d probably all want to go to Mass. From what I heard, most of my fellow students saw it as a day off, not a day of religion. My landlady, on the other hand, was in raptures about it.