Gretchen said, Prince von Wittingen is a roving ambassador for Krupp. Markus said, I know that. We talked about nothing much after this. Markus had clamped up. I don’t think he was now comfortable speaking in front of Gretchen, for some reason. He was usually wary. Cautious.
Lotte came and told us lunch was served in the morning room. We followed her. She had put hot dishes on the sideboard; she told us to help ourselves. We went to look in the covered dishes. Lentil soup. A pot roast with vegetables. Apple strudel. Next to the platter of apple cake stood a jug of thick cream. The four of us had bowls of soup, and then served ourselves some of the pot roast. I noticed that the others ate sparingly, as I did. Lotte came back later with a coffee pot, cream and sugar, and left us to ourselves, as she normally did.
Princess Irina returned later in the afternoon. She told me she had no real news from Berlin. The von Tiegals had remained in the country for the last few weeks. Like everyone else, they felt much safer away from the city. And from the prowling Gestapo, the SS, the swaggering ordinary soldiers who were rude and aggressive, were out to make trouble with civilians whenever they could.
That night we had a simple buffet supper in the morning room. Later we played charades. This was one of my mother’s favourite games. I kept thinking about her. I couldn’t wait to go back to my room, which she had always used. This is where I felt close to her, felt her presence acutely. It comforted me to sit in the chair she had used.
Markus left the following morning. He told Anita he would phone her every night. He always did. To reassure her he hadn’t been taken. The three of us watched him roar off on the motorcycle, looking handsome and very dashing, his scarf flying out behind him. Gretchen sighed, seemed sad to see him go. Don’t worry, he’ll be back, I murmured, and went inside.
Later that afternoon, Princess Irina came looking for me. She found me in the library with Diana, Christian and Anita. We were playing Snakes and Ladders, the board game the von Wittingen children loved so much. Oh, there you are, Gabriele, she said, moving around the game table in her graceful way. I need you to help me with something. If you don’t mind. No, I’ll come right away, I said, jumping up.
Linking her arm through mine, in the charming, very personal way she had, we walked out together. Once we were in the hall, she cried in a hushed tone, I’ve great news! Let’s go upstairs, Gabri. I could see she was excited. We sped up the wide staircase together. Once in her room, she said, I’ve had a message from my friend C. He needs your passport. I have to take it to Berlin. You are getting your visa. You’re going to London. To your aunt Beryl. Arabella will be buying your tickets. You will go by train via Paris. Isn’t that wonderful news? I shall put you on the train myself.
It is wonderful, I said, smiling, infected by her excitement. I’ll get my passport. I hurried out, walked down the corridor. Suddenly I knew what I must do. I wanted to go to London. I was aware I would not see my parents until the end of the war, so why stay in Berlin when I could be with auntie Beryl? But I couldn’t leave Anita stranded. She was at risk.
I stopped abruptly in the corridor, turned around and went back to Princess Irina’s room. I tapped on the door. She said come in. I did. I can’t go, I announced. What do you mean? she asked, frowning at me. I would like to give my exit visa to Anita. Markus already has his. I don’t think hers will ever come through. The authorities know that if he leaves alone, he’ll be sure to come back. Because of his sister. He won’t leave her in Berlin by herself. I think Herr Wendt, his boss, got him the exit visa, but did not request one for Anita.
Maybe that is true, the princess murmured, sitting down heavily at the desk. She stared at me thoughtfully, shaking her head.
I gave her a pleading look. Will you ask C to give my exit visa to her? Please, Princess Irina. I want Anita to go with her brother to Turkey. Their mother needs them. And they are in danger.
What a selfless thing to offer to do, Irina murmured, her fixed scrutiny levelled at me.
Will C do it? I asked. I suppose he will, she said. If I explain. But how do we get her passport? Oh she has it with her, I explained. Markus insisted she carry it with her just in case they ever had to go on the run.
Like we all do, the princess answered, her face grave. This is a very brave thing you are doing, Gabriele. Very brave indeed. But it puts you in danger…
So that’s what Gran did, Justine said under her breath. Putting down the book, standing up, stretching, she walked over to the window. Gran saved Anita’s life by handing her that precious exit visa that the princess had worked so hard to get. What an act of bravery for a fourteen-year-old girl. A vulnerable Jewish girl, whose sister and parents had been taken to the death camps, and who was at risk herself.
Justine leaned her head against the windowpane, and closed her eyes. Tears seeped out from under her lids, slid down her cheeks. How noble, she thought. My grandmother is the most remarkable person I’ve ever known. I wonder who else would have made that kind of sacrifice?
Could I? She did not know the answer to that. Justine wiped her cheeks with a tissue, and gazed out of the window, still stunned by her grandmother’s actions as a girl.
The ringing of her mobile phone brought her across the room to the bedside table. She picked it up, brought it to her ear. ‘Hello?’
It was Michael. ‘Are you all right?’ he asked. ‘I suppose you’re still reading?’
‘I am, yes. I just found out how my grandmother saved your grandmother’s life. She gave Anita her exit visa. I suppose you know that.’
‘Yes, I do. But I don’t know much else about what happened to Gabri after that, after Anita and Markus left Berlin. However, I can tell you this. I’ve always thought it was the most extraordinary act of courage I’ve ever heard of in my life.’
FORTY
After filling the kettle and putting it on the stove, Justine sat down on the kitchen stool. As she waited for it to boil she found herself thinking about her grandmother again. How could she not?
Once more her mind was back with Gabriele in Berlin in 1938. What must it have been like to live in those dangerous times, when the most evil regime in the history of the world had been alive and kicking? Terror and fear had been her grandmother’s constant companions, of that she was certain, and she had been so very young. Fourteen. Justine thought of herself at fourteen, the way she had been at that age, and her mind baulked.
A shiver ran through her and she sat very still. Gabriele had given Anita the chance to escape, to save her life, while she herself had stayed behind. Not knowing what the future held. Most likely certain death. But she had not faltered, had done it out of love for her friend. It was the most unselfish act Justine had ever heard of.
The whistling kettle brought her to her feet. She turned it off, made a mug of English breakfast tea, added lemon and sweetener and returned to her bedroom.
She was using a bookmark now, and easily found the last page she had been reading earlier.
…you in danger. Perhaps you must think of this decision for a while. Do not be hasty, Princess Irina finished. I said I had thought about it, and excused myself. I went to Anita’s bedroom, and told her about my exit visa coming through. I didn’t mention C. I knew I must be discreet, very careful not to put him in danger.
Oh, I’m so happy for you! Anita said. Your aunt will be waiting for you with loving arms. She’s nice, your aunt Beryl. I like her.
I sat down on the bed next to Anita, and took hold of her hand. I’m not going to use the exit visa. I am going to give it to you, Anita. So you can go with Markus to Turkey. To be with your mother.
Anita was flabbergasted. She turned, gaped at me. Didn’t speak for a moment. Finally she said, No, no. I can’t do that, Gabri! It’s your visa. It would be wrong of me to take it. You must, I insisted. Anita shook her head. Furiously. Her face became set in that way she had. No. I won’t take it, she said again. I asked her to give me her passport. So that the exit visa could be attached. She would not. And she dug
her heels in, as my mother would have called it. She was adamant.
I began to talk to her. Trying to be persuasive. I couldn’t make a dent. Eventually I said in a low voice, Listen to me, Anita. I haven’t told you this. But I know where my parents and Erika were taken. Buchenwald. My voice broke then and I choked on the words. I took a deep breath. I said unsteadily, I know now that I will not see them until the war ends.
Anita had stiffened. She stared at me. Her face was white, strained, her sparkly brown eyes filled with fear. I realized she was aghast. How do you know? Who told you which camp?
Prince Kurt, I answered. He has access to a lot of important people in the Third Reich. He found out about them for me. I believe him. He is a good man. When the war ends I want to be here, Anita. To find my parents. Not far away in London. I might not be able to get back for ages. I must stay here in Germany. I am going to stay. Even if you don’t use my visa. So why should we waste it? Please use it, Anita. It’s foolish not to. After further discussion and tears on both our parts, Anita agreed. Finally. She gave me her passport, so that I could hand it on to Irina, who would take it to Berlin to have the exit visa attached.
I went back to the princess’s bedroom, told her everything. She nodded, put Anita’s passport in her bag. Then she glanced at me. There was an odd look in her violet-blue eyes, as she said softly, What a wonderful friend you are, my brave little girl. You have the kind of courage I’ve rarely seen in a grown man.
BERLIN 20 DECEMBER 1938
We stood together on the platform of the Schlesischer Bahnhof. People milled around. It was very busy. There were a lot of Gestapo about, and troops of the Wehrmacht, and people were already boarding the Berlin–Paris train which had just pulled in.
Princess Irina had not wanted me to come to see Anita and Markus off. She was afraid for me. But I had insisted. Anita held onto my hand tightly. Her eyes were full of tears. Markus stood just behind me. His hand was on my shoulder. Once again, he whispered in my ear, Thank you, Gabri, thank you with all my heart.
Princess Irina had come with me, was concerned about my safety. Suddenly she turned around, smiled as Arabella and Kurt von Wittingen joined us. They greeted us cordially. The smile on my face suddenly slipped. I froze. A man was striding toward us. An officer wearing the field-grey uniform of the Wehrmacht. To my horror he stopped alongside the prince.
Kurt von Wittingen turned, nodded when he saw him. They shook hands. The officer then came and greeted each of us as if he knew us, shaking our hands in a friendly manner. He even kissed Princess Irina on the cheek. She noticed my terrified expression, winked. I then understood this was not an enemy but a friend. The officer said something to Prince Kurt, who stepped over to Markus.
Show me your papers again, my boy, the prince said, sounding as if he were speaking to a relative. Markus took them out of his overcoat pocket, handed them over. The officer also looked at the documents. He said to Markus, Where are your tickets? Markus gave them to him, and said, Return tickets to Paris from Berlin. Coming back to Berlin on January tenth.
The officer inclined his head, handed the tickets back. He lowered his voice when he said, At the border town of Aachen your papers will be checked, your luggage searched. It’s normal. There are a lot of Gestapo, SS and troops on this train – that is routine also. Now let me get you both settled in the compartment. The train will be leaving shortly.
I hugged Anita, then Markus. So did the two princesses. Prince Kurt shook their hands, wished them well. They followed the officer onto the train. Anita turned on the top step and blew me a kiss. I blew one back. Then she disappeared from view. I wondered if I would ever see her again.
A moment later she was tapping the compartment window. I waved. Irina and Arabella did the same. The guard was coming down the platform, waving a red flag. The train was hooting, emitting steam. Three SS officers pushed past us, boarded the train. They were followed by more troops, and several women, two with small children.
The officer in the field-grey uniform who had helped Anita and Markus to the compartment reappeared, came to join us. We all watched the train as it slid out of the station and went rattling on its way to Paris. Then we left the station, went our separate ways.
Irina took me back with her to her stepfather’s house on the Lützowufer. We would spend today and tonight there before returning to the Schloss tomorrow. We were to stay in the country until the New Year.
When we got back to the house, Hedy made us hot chocolate and served it with warm doughnuts. We were both hungry. As we settled in front of the fire, Irina said, The officer who came to help them onto the train is with the Abwehr. We thought it would give Anita and Markus a certain legitimacy if they were being looked after by a colonel in German Military Intelligence. I believe it went well, she added. Is he working with C? I asked. She nodded.
The princess was silent for a moment, before confiding, When we were leaving the station, he told me he was given a lot of salutes from troops when he was ushering them into the compartment. It’s all about validity. And who you know.
Yes, I agreed. After a moment the princess said, Anita told me they are staying in Paris, then go on to Nice. Yes, I answered. They arrive tomorrow morning at the Gare du Nord. They will spend the night at the station hotel. Not any longer. They want to keep moving. In Nice they will take the freighter to Istanbul, passing through the Dardenelle Straits. Just as she told you.
The princess looked thoughtful. Anita explained that her mother had arranged for them to travel on the freighter. I hope everything works out all right, that nothing goes wrong.
So do I, I murmured.
FORTY-ONE
‘It’s me, Rich,’ Justine said. ‘Is this a bad time? I need to talk to you.’
Her brother sounded surprised to hear her voice, and exclaimed, ‘It’s fine for me, but what about you? It’s late in Istanbul.’
‘I’m wide awake,’ she answered. ‘How was Washington?’
‘Great. I just got back to New York a while ago on the shuttle. I was going to call you, Juju, but I thought you’d be asleep.’
‘I wanted to know how Daisy was.’
‘She’s doing fine.’
‘I’m glad Joanne’s around. She’s very motherly.’
‘What about Gran? Isn’t she waiting for me? Anxiously?’
‘She is, and she doesn’t know about Daisy’s ear infection yet since she’s still in Bodrum. I shall tell her when she gets back with Anita.’ Justine paused, then said, ‘I’ve had an idea. I was thinking it might be great if I brought Gran to New York to see you and Daisy. She’d also love to see Indian Ridge. She still owns it lock, stock and barrel, to put it bluntly.’
‘That would be great to bring Gran. Oh God, I hope she doesn’t hate the changes I’ve made at Indian Ridge.’
‘How could she? Everything’s beautiful. Anyway, she’s looked through the photograph album I brought with me. And she was very admiring of your talent, I told you that.’
‘I know you did, but a photograph’s a bit different from the real thing.’
Now that she had the call to New York out of the way, Justine reached for the leather-bound book and started to read again.
THE MARK BRANDENBURG 4 MAY 1939
It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining and the spring flowers were already in bloom in the garden. There were lilacs coming out and apple blossom in bud. I wanted to go outside. Take a walk. But I had to finish my studies first. I liked the library where I studied every day. It was full of books and beautiful old paintings. The von Wittingen children worked alongside me, were good companions. But this afternoon Diana and Christian had gone to Berlin with their mother. To have their medical check-ups. I missed them when they were away. Christian and Diana were warm, loving and full of high jinks. They kept me laughing even when I was sad. They brought a lot of life to this old castle, helped to create a cheerful ambience.
The two princesses had undertaken my schooling. At the beginning of thi
s year. My guardian angels. That was how I thought of them. They loved my mother. So felt responsible for me. They were similar in character. Practical, down-to-earth women who constantly said, ‘Let’s get on with it.’ And did so. Both were aristocrats yet there was not one snobbish bone in their bodies.
Their lives had been very different, though. Arabella, daughter of an English earl, with her own title, had had a loving and stable upbringing in a happy family in Yorkshire. There she had lived in a world that was safe, secure and genteel. She had been protected.
Irina, born a Romanov princess, had lost everything at the age of six when her father was murdered, her uncle Tsar Nicholas II assassinated. She and her mother had gone on the run. Living hand to mouth. Relying on the kindness of others in different European countries. And especially in Poland, where they had made many close friends. Irina often spoke to me about these chums of hers and the days she and her mother had lived in Warsaw. Explained how much they owed their survival to them. Somehow she and her mother had managed to stay alive. Irina was strong, dependable, smart, inventive. Perhaps because of her vagabond life as a refugee. She told me once she was a survivor.
They were like loving aunts. But I never forgot Mummy, with her sky-blue eyes, golden hair, quick mind and loving nature. I thought of her every morning, and of Papa and Erika. And every night when I went to bed. My family were never out of my thoughts. I yearned for them. I believed I would see them again. Once the Third Reich ceased to exist. Irina, Arabella and Kurt said it would collapse one day. In the not too distant future. This belief kept me going. Gave me hope.
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