March 10th

I was drowsing after a heavy midday meal with wine when she called. The ringing of the phone roused me from pleasant dreams. Fumbling for the handset, I did not expect to hear her voice. At first, I thought it was some kind of joke, but it was not. She was anxious. She was in danger.

Our dwellings were not, in fact, very far apart. She shared a quite large apartment with the landlord and his brother, her own sister, and another tenant or two. Shadowy figures, the brothers, I had met them once or twice on my way to her quarters or to go out to the streets, the nodded greetings as we sped to our assignations.

It was quiet when I arrived. I waited in the street, in case danger was lurking. Everyone seemed to be out in the heat of the afternoon. I gave the signal and she let me in. She feared that one brother might have stayed behind, furtively studying in his room, as he often did. However, it seemed not to be the case. Our hushed voices and hurried breathing were the only sounds to be heard in the entrance hallway.

I might have thought she was being overly dramatic, but the quiver in her voice and the look in her eyes dissuaded me. She had everything packed ready in heavy bundles. We strained to carry them and hailed a taxi.

I took her swiftly to her friend's refuge, and that was that. We could go back to avoiding each other.