by Emma Fraser
She paused, her fork halfway to her mouth. She wasn’t sure which bit of what he’d said frightened her most. Why did he imagine she’d want to go anywhere with him? And if he knew she came from Krakow then he knew more about her than he’d let on. In which case he was toying with her. She forced herself to chew the lump of stew.
‘I am happy here.’
‘I should tell you that soon the Reich will be requiring more people to help the German effort – people in your age group. You are what? Twenty-one? Twenty-two?’
She nodded. ‘About that.’
‘Conditions aren’t always easy in the factories. If you came to Krakow you wouldn’t have to work. I could find you an apartment and come and visit you. We could go to concerts. You would like that, I am certain.’
And be his mistress? She would rather die.
‘If I went to Krakow I would stay with my father.’
He swirled the wine around his glass. ‘Ah, yes, your father. Professor Kraszewski. I believe he was a guest of the Reich for a while.’
It was as if someone had tipped ice water down her neck. So he did know who she was. ‘He was released.’
‘Which is not to say he couldn’t be a guest again.’
Despite her nausea, she forced a smile. ‘Could I have some time to think about it?’ she said.
He took a gulp of wine and dabbed his lips with his napkin. ‘Don’t keep me waiting too long. I’m not a patient man.’ There was no mistaking the threat in his words. ‘I’ll be back in a month and I’ll look forward to hearing your answer then.’
He insisted on accompanying her back to the hospital. As they walked Irena was uncomfortably aware of the glances of disapproval from her fellow countrymen and women.
‘Thank you for lunch,’ she said, when they reached the hospital gates.
He looked down at her, a small smile tugging at his lips. ‘I promise you, Fräulein, that you will be much happier – and healthier – if you come to Krakow.’ He studied her for a moment longer. ‘In fact, I am not certain that I shouldn’t take you away right now. Put you somewhere where you’ll be safe from disease. I don’t want to take any chances that you will bring it with you.’
Somehow she managed not to react to his words. ‘I promise you I’m perfectly healthy. At least as far as I’m aware, although as you know, given the right conditions, illness can strike suddenly.’ She decided to take a chance. ‘But if you’re concerned perhaps you could get me some typhus vaccine? That would make sure I don’t get it.’ She could give it to the residents of the ghetto.
‘I’m afraid that won’t be possible.’ He clicked his heels. ‘Until next month, Fräulein.’
Irena was in her room, attempting to scrub the taint of the encounter with the major from her skin, when Stanislaw and Henryk marched in without knocking. She whirled around, pulling her robe closed to hide her nakedness.
Neither man was smiling.
‘I imagine you’ve heard about my meal with the major,’ she said. ‘I was planning to come and tell you.’
‘What are you up to, Irena?’ Stanislaw demanded. ‘Have you told him what’s going on here?’
Outraged, she lifted her chin. ‘How can you even think that? After everything I’ve done? Don’t you know by now how much I hate the Germans?’
‘Come now, Stanislaw, give her a chance to explain,’ Henryk interjected, laying a placating hand on his arm. ‘We’ve trusted her this far and she’s not let us down.’
‘Her neck hasn’t been truly on the line before.’ Stanislaw shook Henryk’s arm away and glared at Irena. ‘Are you planning to save it by dropping us in the shit?’
‘No,’ she said sadly, ‘of course not.’ How could these two men, who’d she’d come to think of as friends, think, even for a moment, that she would betray them? ‘He asked me to go to Krakow. As his mistress.’
Henryk and Stanislaw exchanged a look. ‘And what did you say?’
‘What do you think? Oh yes, Herr Oberführer, I would love to sleep with you? I would love to be held in the arms of a man responsible for murdering innocent men, women and children.’ She shook her head. ‘I told him I would think about it, but only to give me enough time to work out what to do. I’d rather be arrested and imprisoned for the rest of the war than share a bed with that beast.’ She shuddered and dropped her voice. ‘Do you think if I wanted to save my skin I would have become involved in helping the people in the ghetto? Don’t you think that as soon as I knew you were helping them I would have gone to the Gestapo? And what about the typhus scam? I risk my life every day too.’ For the first time Stanislaw looked uncertain. ‘You must believe me.’
Stanislaw sighed. Either her words or whatever he’d seen in her face appeared to have convinced him. He turned to Henryk. ‘There’s a chance we can turn this to our advantage.’
‘What do you mean?’ Irena said. Her skin crawled as she realised there was only one thing he could mean.
‘If you became his mistress, you could find out all kinds of information and pass it on to us. We could know their movements in advance – find out who is on their lists and when they are planning to do a round-up. Whatever he shares with you – whatever you overhear – could save lives.’ He took her hand. ‘You would be doing it for Poland, Irena.’
Appalled, she snatched her hand away. ‘Please don’t ask me to do this,’ she whispered. ‘I could never sleep with him. I couldn’t pretend for a second that his touch didn’t revolt me. Please don’t ask it of me.’
‘It’s too dangerous,’ Henryk said to Stanislaw. ‘Irena’s not a member of the resistance. She hasn’t the training to do what you want.’
‘We need more people to tell us what the Germans are planning, Henryk,’ Stanislaw said softly before turning back to Irena. ‘At least think about it. When does the major want his answer?’
‘He’s coming back to Rozwadow in a month. He expects my decision then.’
‘Then we have time.’ He took her by the shoulders. ‘You could help save thousands of lives. Maybe more. Think it over.’
Chapter 24
A few days later, Irena was in her room doing her laundry when one of the nurses knocked on her door.
‘You have a visitor,’ she said. ‘He’s in the courtyard.’
She dropped the blouse she had been washing in the basin of soapy water and dried her hands. She hoped it wasn’t the major. Since his visit she’d spent nights tossing and turning, thinking about what Stanislaw had suggested. She wished she could bring herself to sleep with the Oberführer. She could find out valuable information and it might go some way to atone for not saving the Jewish woman and her child. But after turning herself inside out, she’d come to a decision. She couldn’t do it. The thought of his hands on her body revolted her and she’d never, in a million years, be able to pretend otherwise.
But Oberführer Bilsen had made it clear he was suspicious of her and when she refused to become his mistress, it would be only a matter of time before he brought her in for questioning. Behind that benign urbane manner was a man who would shoot her in the head without blinking. And if they did arrest her, if they beat her, would she be able to keep her secrets? She couldn’t be sure. How could anyone know what they would say under torture?
If she broke and told them about the work Stanislaw and Henryk had been doing here, they would be executed and the scam uncovered. Thousands who might otherwise be saved, would die.
Of course she could be mistaken about the major’s suspicions, but even if she was, she might still end up in a work camp. As the major had said, the Nazis were starting to take women between the ages of fifteen and twenty-four for their work camps – or for other reasons the older women in the village only whispered about. What good would she be to her country then?
Neither Stanislaw nor Henryk had said anything more about the matter, and she hadn’t been able to bring herself to tell them about her decision.
‘Who?’ she asked now through frozen lips.
&nb
sp; I don’t know. He didn’t say. An older man.’
‘A German?’
The nurse looked at Irena, surprised. ‘No. He is Polish. I must go. I have work.’
Wondering who it could be, Irena hurried outside.
It took her a moment to recognise the frail, elderly figure on the bench.
‘Tata! I didn’t expect you.’
A smile of delight spread across his face. ‘My child!’
She ran across to him and, as he enveloped her in his arms, she felt all the fear and tension of the previous months melt away. He smelled of tobacco smoke and wet wool – familiar, comfortable, safe smells.
He ran a hand through her hair, murmuring words of endearment that warmed her soul. Finally he held her away from him. As he studied her, his eyes clouded. ‘You are thin, Renia.’
‘We are all thinner than we were, Tata. But why are you here? Is it safe?’
His mouth twisted. ‘The Germans do not seem to care any longer what I do.’
‘And the other professors and doctors?’
A spasm of grief crossed her father’s face. ‘Some they leave alone. Some they take away to prisons – others to work camps.’ He shook his head. ‘It is all so arbitrary.’
There was no answer to that. ‘Sit, Tata. Rest a while. You are still not strong.’
‘There are only a few of us doctors left in Krakow and only the older ones. It means we do not get much rest. At least there are some of us left to care for the sick and to teach.’
‘So why are you here, Tata? Not that I’m not happy to see you but it must have taken you the best part of the day to get here – unless you have come to stay?’
‘No, I must get back. I had to see you. I have some news.’ The sun was beginning to disappear and her father pulled up the collar of his coat.
‘Let’s go inside,’ she said, tucking her arm through his. ‘We can speak there.’
‘No, what I have to say must be said where there is no danger of anyone overhearing us.’
‘Is it good news, Tata?’
Her father’s face broke into a wide smile. ‘Yes. It is about your brother. I have word. He made it to England and has joined the British RAF. He is safe. He will continue to fight against the German invader from there.’
Happiness bloomed inside her chest. ‘Aleksy is alive! But that is wonderful! Are you sure?’
‘Absolutely. He managed to get a letter to me. It was in code and not signed but I knew what it meant.’
Her heart soared. Her brother, her darling Aleksander, was safe. Now, if only she could get news of Piotr, she could live through anything.
‘Have you heard any news of Piotr?’
Her father’s expression changed and in that moment Irena knew that she did not want to hear what he had to tell her.
‘No, Tata!’
‘I am sorry, my child. There have been reports. Terrible reports.’
‘Go on,’ she whispered.
‘It is only rumour. We can’t be certain.’ He touched her cheek. ‘There is talk that the Germans executed many of our officers that they kept as prisoners-of-war. Word has it that Piotr’s regiment was amongst them.’
The ground seemed to shift beneath her feet. ‘You said you can’t be sure!’
‘No. It’s possible his regiment escaped execution and was taken to a Russian gulag in Siberia. But even if that is true,’ he laid his hand on top of hers, ‘it doesn’t mean he is still alive.’
‘He’s not dead! Not Piotr. Krystiana told me thousands of our soldiers are in the Home Army. Thousands, Tata! And even if he was captured – he’s strong. He’ll come back to me. You’ll see!’
She could tell he didn’t believe it but he didn’t know Piotr the way she did. ‘At least we know for certain Aleksy is alive. We must be grateful for that.’
‘Which brings me to the other reason I’ve come. I’ve asked you before, but now I’m telling you. You must leave Poland. You’re not safe – even here. I have seen terrible things and I have heard worse. They are killing more and more of us. They won’t be satisfied until there isn’t a Jew or a Pole left on this earth.’
‘I know, Tata.’
He gripped her hand tightly. ‘It is more dangerous than ever. The Germans have been asking about you. They want to know where you are. I told them that I lost touch with you when Warsaw was bombed, that I think you are dead, but I don’t think they believe me.’
She didn’t want to tell him they already knew who, and where, she was. He’d be even more worried.
‘If you stay here you will die,’ he continued, ‘I am certain of it. More than ever.’
Her heart shuddered as his eyes brimmed with tears. ‘Tata!’
‘I couldn’t go on if anything happened to you, Renia. You must leave.’
Leave Poland? To abandon her country when it needed her most? Yet, although everything inside her rebelled against it, she knew she had no choice. Her father was right. It was too risky to stay here.
‘If I agree to go, will you come too?’ she asked, even though she already knew what his answer would be.
‘You know I can’t. I am too old to start a new life in another country. I must stay. But it will give me a reason to live if I know my children are safe.’
Irena chewed her lip. How could she leave her father when she might never see him again? And Piotr? Perhaps he’d escaped and was with the underground army, and might come to find her. Although so far, he hadn’t even found a way of sending her a message.
She shook the doubts away. He was alive somewhere – even if it was in one of Stalin’s camps – and she’d promised him she’d try to survive so that one day they could be together again. And to be free, to see Aleksy again, to live without fear. To be able to tell the world what was happening here…
‘If I disappear, will they not come looking for me?’
‘I’ll persuade Henryk to say that you died of typhus. He can write the death certificate. It won’t be difficult to find an undertaker who will swear he buried you.’
‘How will I get out?’
‘There are ways. You must know that Stanislaw and Henryk have their contacts – people who will help you. Do you remember the name and address of the Englishman I gave you when we were still in Warsaw? I am sure he will help you too.’
‘I don’t know if I can bear to say goodbye to you.’ Her voice thickened as tears clogged her throat.
Her father lifted her hand and kissed her fingers. ‘You must be brave. I will rest easier knowing you are safe. If you won’t do it for me, do it for Piotr and your dead mother’s memory.’
Chapter 25
London, 1989
Sarah lingered outside number 95 Grosvenor Street, summoning up her courage. Like the house in Charlotte Square, it was Georgian with an imposing front and tall windows. Even the door was similar, although this one was painted a cheerful fire-engine red. However, the Glendales’ London home was three or four times the size of the one in Edinburgh and took up the best part of the street. Houses in this part of London must be worth a small fortune. The Glendales had to be minted and she was glad she’d swapped her jeans and T-shirt for a suit she usually wore to work. Taking a deep breath, she rang the doorbell.
‘Yes? Can I help you?’ A harassed-looking woman in her late twenties or early thirties with a fair-haired toddler clinging to her skirt answered just as Sarah was beginning to give up hope of finding anyone at home. Sarah took an involuntary step backwards. Somehow she’d been half expecting a butler to open the door.
‘Please forgive me for intruding on you like this, but I was wondering whether you knew a Lord Glendale?’
‘I’m Lady Glendale. Lord Glendale is my husband.’
It took a moment for Sarah to work it out. Of course with Richard’s death his title would have passed to the next male heir. At least she’d found his family.
‘I mean the former Lord Glendale. Richard Maxwell.’
‘Richard? Yes, he was my husband’s second
cousin – his grandmother’s nephew.’
‘Do you mind if I come in for a moment? I’d really like to speak to someone about the late Lord Glendale. I know I should have telephoned first, but your number isn’t in the book…’ Sarah tailed off. ‘Anyway, I was in the area.’
The woman eyed Sarah doubtfully. ‘What did you say your name was?’
‘Sarah Davidson. I’m not sure if you’re aware, but Lord Glendale – the former Lord Glendale, I mean – made my mother, Lily Davidson, executor of his estate. I’m not at all sure why and I thought someone in the family might be able to tell me.’