by Ella Zeiss
‘I lost her,’ Maria murmured, sounding suffocated. ‘I promised always to be there for her, to protect her forever, but I didn’t manage it.’
‘It’s not your fault,’ Anna said. ‘You did everything you possibly could for her.’
‘But it wasn’t enough.’
‘I know, but not because of you.’
Maria nodded and pushed herself up with difficulty. She took hold of her daughter’s little hand. ‘What happens to her now?’
‘The ground is too hard to bury her,’ Anna said cautiously, ‘and now that they’re certain it’s measles . . .’ She couldn’t finish what she was saying.
‘They want to burn her?’ Maria’s voice turned shrill. ‘No!’ She started shaking her head wildly and threw herself over Ruth’s body like a shield.
Anna said nothing. She could imagine what her friend was going through. The thought of a child being thrown into the flames like a worthless piece of wood, with no Christian burial or a grave to grieve by, was inconceivable.
‘We will bury her,’ she promised fiercely. Maybe they could make a fire or tip boiling water over the ground to soften it. Ruth’s body was tiny – they wouldn’t have to dig too deep and could weigh down the grave with stones.
‘Can . . . she stay here just a bit longer?’ Maria asked quietly.
‘Of course,’ Anna nodded. They couldn’t wait too long – it was hot and muggy inside the hut, and the body would start to decompose soon – but Maria had a few hours left to say goodbye to her child.
Anna looked round to find her own daughter. Yvo was standing there, her eyes wide with fear, next to a taller girl. Anna wasn’t sure whether she understood what had happened, whether she knew that she would never play with Ruth again, that her friend was gone for good, but the tears running down Yvo’s cheeks showed that she certainly could tell that something terrible had happened.
Anna pulled herself together. She would talk to Yvo later and try to explain everything. But first they needed to take measures to get things back under control as far as possible. She went to stand in the middle of the large room. ‘Listen to me!’ she called loudly, waiting until the murmurs of women and children died down and more and more heads turned her way. ‘We have a measles epidemic!’
There were gasps of shock in response, although her announcement probably came as no great surprise to most of them.
‘Are you sure?’ one voice asked.
‘Yes, the guard just confirmed it. The sickness is raging in Luza – the children caught it at school and brought it back here.’
‘If it’s true, the Government must send us a doctor and medicine.’
Anna hesitated. ‘The doctor is in Luza. He will come as soon as possible.’
Bitter sighs followed her words. ‘And when might that be?’
She looked away sadly. ‘I don’t know.’
Despair, hopelessness and anger were evident in all their faces. ‘So they’re just going to leave us here to rot? Haven’t enough children died already?’
‘The doctor will get here!’ Anna shouted against the rising tide of anger. ‘We can’t give up before he does.’
‘So what do we do?’
‘We can use one of the huts as a quarantine station. We’ll take all the sick people there to stop the disease from spreading any further. Anyone who has already had measles is immune so they can tend to the sick, and the rest of you should get some fresh air into this hut.’
‘We need to tell the others,’ someone said, and Anna nodded in relief.
The need to do something to fight this disease – be it ever so small – gave the women a shared goal and a faint spark of hope that all was not lost.
Anna herself was under no illusions though. She knew enough about the illness to understand that quarantine without medication was of little benefit. They might be able to stop the disease from spreading, but that would be of no help to anyone who had already fallen sick. She thought of Rita and Friedrich, still battling a fever, and all the other women and children in a similar predicament.
The door swung open and several women from the other huts entered. They looked tired and shocked but determined to do whatever was necessary.
The next few hours were spent deciding which hut should be cleared, and dividing up the beds accordingly.
Anna wanted to go into quarantine with Rita, Erich and Friedrich to look after them, but that would mean leaving Yvo behind on her own. Normally she would have asked Maria to keep an eye on her youngest child but the young woman still sat motionless and pale beside Ruth’s body. She hadn’t eaten a thing all day. The piece of bread lay discarded on the floor where she’d dropped it, and she hadn’t uttered another word since her breakdown that morning. Anna had no idea if she would want to look after another child so soon after her loss. To be honest, Anna wasn’t sure if she was even capable of doing so in her current state of mind.
Once everything had been organised, she went over to check on Maria. The young mother didn’t even look up, just twitched once when Anna briefly touched her shoulder.
‘You have to drink.’
‘What for?’ The question sounded so honest and simple that Anna shuddered.
It took her a moment to find a suitable answer. ‘You’ve lost Ruth. I know how you’re feeling . . .’
‘No, you don’t . . .’ Maria said forcefully. ‘Your daughter is alive and well and mine is dead.’
Anna clenched her jaw and tried to stay calm. ‘You’re right: maybe I really don’t have a clue, but what I do know is that you’re carrying another child below your heart who needs you. If you give up now, you will end up losing two children.’
Reluctantly Maria looked up, her eyes full of tears. ‘I can’t feel it any more.’
‘But it’s still there,’ Anna said. ‘If it’s weak, then that’s only because you are too. As long as it’s inside you, it’s still alive.’
Cautiously Maria stroked her gently rounded belly.
‘You have to keep your strength up for your child’s sake, even if you can’t do it for yourself or your husband.’ Anna picked the piece of bread off the floor, brushed it down and crumbled it into the cold broth. ‘Try this.’
Maria reached out her shaking hand for the cup and took a large sip.
Anna smiled, then looked round for Yvo, who was playing with another girl in the corner.
With a heavy heart, she walked over to her daughter and hugged her tightly. ‘I have to move to another hut to look after Rita and Friedrich for a few days.’
‘I want to come too! I can help!’ Yvo said eagerly, looking up at her mother.
Anna brushed the unruly curls from her forehead. ‘I’m afraid you can’t, my darling. It’s for sick people.’
‘I’m big. I can stay with Erich then,’ the little girl said bravely, but she clung on to Anna, her actions belying her words.
‘Erich has to go too. He’s not completely cured yet.’
Yvo let go and started blinking wildly to stop the tears, but it wasn’t much use. Her bottom lip quivered. ‘Do Maria and Ruth have to go too?’
Anna sighed deeply to control her own feelings. ‘Ruth was very sick, do you remember? And now she is in heaven.’
‘When is she coming back?’
‘She’s not.’ Anna quickly wiped her own cheeks and hugged her daughter.
‘Oh.’ Yvo’s face was wrought with a mixture of grief and fear, but she was trying to be so strong that Anna’s heart nearly burst with sorrow and love and pride, all at the same time.
Her daughter looked around as if she were searching for an anchor, for someone who would stand by her while her mother could not.
Anna kissed her and gently unclasped Yvo’s tight little fists. Perhaps she should ask Maria after all.
‘Natalya!’ Yvo suddenly called happily and started waving madly.
The elder woman came over, looking worried. ‘What is it?’
‘Natalya can look after me,’ Yvo said firmly, and grabbed t
he old woman’s calloused hand.
Embarrassed, Anna looked at her. She liked Natalya. In her own coarse way she was always willing to help, but surely she couldn’t burden her with the care of a small child?
‘Natalya is nice,’ Yvo explained, smiling.
‘We can’t do that,’ Anna said slowly. ‘Natalya has too much to do.’
‘No, she hasn’t. She often plays with me!’
This was news to Anna but she had been forced to neglect her small daughter so often recently that she must have missed it.
‘What are you talking about?’ Natalya said, looking on at them both in confusion.
‘I’m going into quarantine with the other children, and I can’t take Yvo with me,’ she explained unhappily.
Silently the woman looked around the hut while she thought. At last she nodded. ‘I’ll look after the little ’un,’ she said at last.
‘Thank you,’ Anna said.
‘Don’t you worry – she’s a good girl.’
‘Yes, she is.’
Anna wrapped her daughter in her arms one last time. ‘I love you so much. And you’ll do as Natalya says, won’t you?’
‘Yes, Mama. When are you coming back?’
‘As soon and as often as I can,’ she promised earnestly. ‘And if something comes up, you know where to find me.’
‘Don’t worry about us,’ the older woman said, with more compassion than usual. ‘Just make sure you get the other two up and running again.’
Anna gave Yvo one last cuddle, then stood up to get ready for the move.
Chapter 10
‘Mama! I think Friedrich has stopped breathing!’ Erich’s shaking voice tore Anna out of her slumber. She blinked groggily and slowly sat up. Her fingers automatically felt the boy’s neck. It took a few seconds before she realised that his heart really had stopped beating. In shock and unable to move, she stared down at the feeble body. She felt so drained and empty that she was unable even to feel sorrow. She had seen too many people die over the past days, and despite fighting for his life so desperately, had long since given up any hope that he might survive.
Gently she closed Friedrich’s eyes and recited the Lord’s Prayer. She had lost.
‘Is . . . is he dead?’ Erich asked quietly.
‘Yes.’ Anna nodded, and pulled Erich into her arms as he began to cry. A wave of gratitude flooded through her as she held him tight. The rash so typical of measles was still visible on his body, but apart from that he was on the mend. He was young and strong and had been spared any dreaded complications of the disease. Anna kissed him on the brow. She was so proud of her little man, her rock in the ocean. She had no idea how she would have managed to survive the last few days without him. His mere presence along with his calm, caring nature and willingness to help had given her the strength to carry on. She had stayed strong for him, refusing to give in to the despair that was eating her. Because of him, she had not given up hope entirely.
But the look on his face as he stared at her now reminded her that he was just a scared eight-year-old boy. ‘Will . . .’ He swallowed and sniffed loudly. ‘Will Rita die too?’ His anxious voice revealed how much his foster-sister meant to him by now.
Anna hesitated. What was she supposed to say? ‘I don’t know,’ she admitted in the end.
The small girl’s chest rose and fell with great effort as each breath she took rattled in her infected lungs. Anna didn’t think she had ever felt quite as helpless before, watching this illness kill off one child after the next. Measles was horrific at the best of times, but here in the Siberian cold, with insufficient food and no medicine, there were far more deaths than usual. One in two were dying because of the infection.
At least the Commander had sent them food from Luza yesterday – mostly potatoes and some barrels of kapusta, pickled cabbage, along with the promise that a doctor would soon follow.
Anna hoped he would hurry up. In a very few days’ time, his services would no longer be necessary.
The noise of someone pounding on the door tore Anna away from her dark thoughts. Presumably someone was knocking snow off their boots outside. Then the door was thrust open and a gust of freezing air rushed in.
A man walked into the hut followed by two soldiers. He was carrying a bulging bag in one hand and glancing around the room.
Hope began to spread through Anna, the same hope she could see mirrored in the faces of the other women.
‘Are you a doctor?’ Ida asked shakily, tentatively stepping forward. In her arms she was holding her eleven-month-old son, who was whining softly.
‘Yes.’ The man nodded and signalled the young mother to come closer. ‘Alexander Vasilyevich,’ he said, introducing himself as he put his bag down on a chair. ‘Let’s have a look and see what’s wrong with the little one.’
Gradually, more and more people pushed their way forward; every woman wanted her child to be next. After all, who could say if there was enough medicine to go round or how long the doctor could stay? But he stopped the women in a friendly but firm manner, asking them to step back.
‘Please go back to your places. Don’t worry, I will see all the patients one after the other.’ He took off his heavy coat and fur hat before opening his bag and taking out a stethoscope.
Anna watched him. She liked him at once. He had exactly the right level of compassion and expertise to lessen the horror of the situation as he moved from one bed to the next.
Alexander Vasilyevich laid down his stethoscope and frowned. Anna could feel panic rising as she tried to do up the buttons on Rita’s top with shaking fingers.
‘I don’t want to deceive you,’ the doctor said earnestly. ‘The girl’s condition is critical; her pneumonia is at an advanced stage. It’s a miracle that she’s managed to survive this long.’ He gently pushed the damp strands of hair from her forehead. ‘I’ll give her an injection but I can’t promise that it will be enough to save her.’
Anna stifled her tears as best she could. ‘Can I . . . Is there anything else I can do?’
The doctor eyed the compress that Anna had just removed from Rita’s chest so that he could examine her. ‘You’re doing everything you possibly can,’ he said softly. ‘Make sure she gets enough to drink.’ He lowered his voice until it was almost inaudible. ‘And keep praying for her to get well.’
Anna nodded and forced herself to smile.
The doctor moved on, leaving her torn between hope and despair.
Rita remained unconscious over the next four days while more and more bunks emptied around her. Some patients were discharged, but many more died despite the doctor’s help. He had come too late – especially for the smallest children.
No laughter could be heard anywhere in the camp, no joy. Not a single person had got by without at least one loss. Several women had lost all their children.
But life went on regardless. The people left still needed attention and care. There was no time to grieve or despair.
Feeling drained, Anna stared around the dark hut. No one new had arrived today and no one had died so far. Had they finally turned the corner?
She turned her mind to heaven but she had run out of prayers. Too often in the past few days she had recited the same words over and over again and seen so many others doing so too, but they’d been left to mourn their children all the same.
Exhausted, Anna wiped her brow and checked on Rita, lying there so silently. Very occasionally a little moan would escape her lips, proving that the child was still fighting to survive.
When was the last time Anna had managed to feed her some broth? Was it this morning or yesterday? She couldn’t say. By now Rita was not the only child she was looking after. A pair of four-year-old twins had lost their mother and then become ill, and she had offered to nurse the two orphans now that Erich was finally better and being looked after by Natalya along with Yvo. She had no idea what would happen to the twins afterwards if they managed to survive.
Rita’s eyelids fluttered light
ly. Anna held her breath, hardly daring to blink. With a great effort, the girl opened her eyes and looked at her. Her eyes were bright and clear.
Anna let out a shout of joy and dropped to her knees beside her. She stroked Rita’s cheek, feeling overwhelmed.
‘Mama?’ the little one croaked as a smile slowly crept over her face. ‘Can we go home now?’ Anna shook her head in disbelief. She didn’t know what Rita meant, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that she was awake at last.
‘Why . . .?’ Rita cleared her throat; she had difficulty speaking through her parched lips. ‘Why are you so happy then?’
‘Because you’re going to get better!’ Anna said, pressing her cheek against Rita’s chest and carefully wrapping her arms around her. ‘You’re going to get better!’ she repeated, and could no longer hold back the tears of relief. She stroked Rita’s face, her arms, as if she needed to touch her to be sure that she really was alive. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘My head hurts and I’m thirsty.’
‘I’ll fetch something to drink!’ Anna said, getting up quickly. ‘And then you need to rest, promise?’
The girl nodded obediently. ‘Where’s Erich?’ she asked, sounding more worried now.
Anna smiled. The two children really did seem to have a special connection.
The next time Rita awoke, Erich was already standing beside her bed. He had even brought a book with him, hoping to read to her so that Anna could get some peace.
She was so moved to see him like this. He looked as if a great weight had fallen off his shoulders and he smiled for the first time in weeks.
By the following day, Rita was able to get up carefully. Anna supported her while the girl walked proudly around the hut. They were just on their way back to her bunk when the door opened and Alexander Vasilyevich suddenly appeared.
He smiled to see his patient standing on her own two feet at last. He waited until Anna had tucked her up under the warm blanket and then came over. ‘I’m very pleased to see that she’s feeling better.’