Almost a month has passed. I am still a little afraid to go out. Is anyone watching where I live? I have reluctantly decided I shouldn’t risk going to the Biennale, although the contessa tells me it has some interesting exhibits this year. I shall continue to see her. There is a vaporetto stop not far from my residence, although the navy has now requisitioned most of the ships and so service out to the Lido is far less frequent.

A strange Englishman came late one night, and the secret radio is now under the floorboards beneath the bedside table in my bedroom. I have to drag the table out and lift up the square of floorboard, and the radio is attached underneath. All very neat. He showed me how to operate it, how to read the codebook. I have been trying to learn Morse code, but I don’t think I’m very good at it. He also left a pair of powerful binoculars for spotting ships that sail from the mainland, in case the Germans decide to build a new harbour of their own. As of yet I have nothing to report. All is serene, and life goes on as it does every other summer.

Today was the Feast of the Redeemer. This time, on a clear sunny day, I watched the pilgrims go over the bridge of barges to the church and then return, carrying candles. It was hard to believe that a year ago my whole life was different. And yet how could I regret Angelo? I love him with all my heart. I didn’t realize humans were capable of such love.

CHAPTER 39

CHAPTER 39

Juliet, October 23, 1940

What a strange year this has been. In Venice nothing much has changed except food has become scarce. Produce no longer flows in so frequently from the Veneto. I think it is diverted to feed the big cities of Milan and Turin, where the factories are making war equipment. Luckily, my friend Contessa Fiorito, whom I visit regularly, has created a vegetable garden on her property and keeps me supplied with fresh produce. This will end soon, as the weather has turned cold and wet suddenly.

The contessa has stepped up her efforts to extricate Jews from Nazi Germany. It seems strange to me that the Nazis have made it so clear the Jews are not wanted and yet they forbid them to travel.

“I don’t know how long I can continue this little service,” she said to me last week. “Now that we are allies of the German bullies, our government is falling into line with Hitler. There is a plan to make all Jews wear the Star of David and move to selected areas.”

“Will you have to do that?” I asked, my heart leaping in fear.