Free The Italian Romance by Joanne Carroll Page A

seem struck by his admonition. She pulled her shoulders up almost to her ears. Primo got to his feet after a fight with the down-filling of the cushions under him. ‘No more of it, do you understand? Do you believe little green men will land out there in the garden? Then why believe such arrant nonsense? Number one,’ he said, holding his digit finger, ‘if the Allies invade, Mussolini will no doubt see the good sense in declaring a peace. After all, he’s done well for this country. Why would he want to see it destroyed? Number two, if there are prisons of some kind, either (a) they are for political opponents of the regime and after all, though I may not like it, in times of war extreme measures may be taken to safeguard the state, and (b) if they are, in fact, internment camps for Jews, we will find that is all they are. Internment. After all, I was in Berlin myself fifteen, twenty years ago.’
    â€˜Yes, Papa,’ Jacob said, ‘but not recently. You wouldn’t get out with your life these days.’
    Primo batted his hand at his son as if he were shooing away anabsurd little fly. ‘Where is this coffee?’ he said. He walked to the door and peered out. As he came back, he stroked his daughter’s hair. ‘Don’t listen to him, little one. Your papa is here.’ He kissed her forehead. Sonia flushed again, the whitened anxiety of the past minutes eased away. He turned to his son and to his wife. ‘Let us agree to disagree, eh? You were always the serious thinker, Jacob. Thank the Lord for it, eh Rachel? We have a son to keep us on the straight and narrow in our old age.’ He rubbed his hands, two iron files flinting together.
    â€˜So why did you ring this morning, Papa?’ Jacob would not let it go. Sonia felt for him. He was not serious in any damp way. She knew him better than almost anyone, and she hurt for him that their father’s words irritated a thorn caught in him since boyhood. Jacob stood straight now. The afternoon light shadowed him long across the rug. His hands bulged in the pockets of his jacket.
    â€˜Why, why, why? Can’t a father see his children once in a while?’ Primo looked at Rachel. ‘What is this, the Inquisition?’ Rachel smiled and bent her head this side and that. She was still beautiful to him, and infuriating.
    â€˜No, Papa, this isn’t the Inquisition,’ Jacob said. Sonia’s blood quickened at the quiet anger in his voice. She did not want anger. ‘I know you heard the BBC last night, just as I did.’
    Her father’s face changed. He walked over to his chair to sit down, but he reconsidered and turned to them. ‘There’s one thing I’d like to say and it’s this.’ He glanced at Rachel but she had taken to moistening her finger, to leaf through the sheets on her lap. ‘If by any rare chance, and I stress the unlikelihood,’ he said as he shifted his glance to Jacob, ‘things go badly wrong over the next few months, we will talk again, all of us. If need be, you will all come here, and together we will be safe. I will talk to the Mayor, and to certain others. You especially, Sonia, as your husband is not here to protect you, will come immediately if there is an invasion. In fact, I wish you and Gianni would come now. I don’t knowwhat delight you take in staying down there all on your own when you know your mother is so worried about you.’
    â€˜Oh, Papa,’ Sonia said almost silently, and she saw her brother look straight at her.
    Primo clicked his tongue. ‘I don’t understand you young people these days.’
    â€˜It was the family before,’ Rachel said. ‘Nobody seems to care anymore.’
    â€˜Ah, well,’ Primo continued, ‘that’s all I have to say. And please try to remember, up to a handful of years ago I was a member of the Party. I know enough people, the Mayor, many others. That’s all I have to