In the Shadow of the Storm

by Ella Zeiss

  ‘You saved her!’ Anna said from the bottom of her heart.

  ‘You did your part too,’ he said kindly, ‘but I would still like to examine her.’

  ‘Of course.’ Anna shifted to make room for him.

  Rita’s eyes were like saucers as she stared at the man listening to her lungs.

  ‘You don’t have to be scared,’ Anna said soothingly. ‘This is the doctor. He made you well.’

  ‘Almost,’ the doctor said as he put away his stethoscope. ‘She’s much better but her lungs deep down inside are not yet free of mucus. She still needs a great deal of rest and care. She mustn’t overexert herself, whatever happens.’

  Anna nodded briskly.

  Alexander Vasilyevich chewed his lip. ‘We’ve set up a hospital in Luza. I could get her a place there. She would have peace and quiet and three warm meals a day.’

  Anna hesitated as Rita clutched her hand. ‘Can’t she stay here with me?’

  ‘It’s your decision, but I would seriously recommend that you take the girl to hospital. This,’ he said disapprovingly, indicating the clammy hut, ‘is really not a good place to get well, and she won’t get her strength back on potatoes alone.’

  Anna nodded reluctantly. She knew he was right.

  ‘Good. Tomorrow morning a lorry will arrive to pick her up, together with some of the other patients.’

  Rita’s lips started to quiver. Obviously frightened, she clung to Anna.

  ‘Can I visit her at the hospital?’

  ‘Of course, for half an hour every day.’

  ‘Thank you. Thank you for everything.’

  ‘Not at all,’ he said with a sigh, moving on to the next patient.

  ‘I don’t want to go away by myself!’ Rita’s eyes welled up with tears.

  ‘I know, my darling,’ Anna said, sitting down beside her on the bed and stroking her cheek soothingly, ‘but it’s not for long, only until you’re totally well again, and I’ll come and visit you as often as I can. Will you be a good girl and do everything the doctors and nurses say, so you can come back as soon as possible?’

  ‘All right,’ Rita said with a brave sniff.

  ‘That’s better, my darling,’ Anna said, with a gentle kiss on her forehead. ‘Now try and get some rest.’

  Anna, Erich and Yvo waved goodbye to the truck taking Rita and the others away until it had driven out of sight. Once it was gone, Anna was suddenly overwhelmed by a sense of emptiness.

  She had spent the last few weeks fighting for the lives of the children with all her might and had not had a minute spare to think about anything else. Now, she struggled to see how she could ever return to any kind of normal routine.

  She saw the same perplexed look on many of the other women’s faces, combined with grief and fear. She had been lucky. Her children were here and Rita was on the mend. If everything went well, she would be able to pick her up next week. Most of the others weren’t so lucky.

  As she went back into the hut with her children in tow, she saw the extent of the devastation caused by the disease in their small settlement. Only a third of all the bunks were still occupied.

  ‘Are you OK?’ Natalya asked. She came over and gently ruffled Yvo’s red hair.

  ‘I don’t really know,’ Anna answered quietly. ‘How are we supposed to carry on?’

  The older woman shrugged. ‘The same as always,’ she said simply. ‘People come, people go, and everyone else just keeps going.’

  ‘Yes.’ That was how it was, even if Anna had never found things as hard as now.

  ‘Keep watching the children, all of them. Whenever you can, make their eyes sparkle and yours will too.’

  ‘What date is it?’ Anna had completely lost her sense of time, but Natalya’s words had suddenly given her an idea.

  ‘The 19th of December.’

  ‘It’s Christmas next week.’

  The other woman slowly shook her head. ‘It means nothing here. It’s frowned upon really.’

  ‘But it matters to us,’ Anna said quietly. ‘And we could all do with some comfort and a glimmer of hope.’

  It was a quiet, contemplative Christmas. All those left gathered in the middle hut. There was tea and gingerbread for the children.

  Anna would have loved to give them presents on this special day but she had no extra money to buy anything for them in town. The winter was far from over and she needed to save the few roubles she had for food and medicine. She had been going to sew rag dolls for Yvo and Rita and new trousers for Erich, but had found neither the time nor the energy. She was sorry and felt she’d failed as a mother. She would have dearly loved to give them something special.

  Luckily the children didn’t seem to mind at all. Yvo was too small to expect presents and Erich old enough to understand. The fact that they had been allowed to fetch Rita home in the early hours of Christmas morning was the best present he could ever have asked for.

  Anna smiled sadly as she watched them lick the last crumbs off their fingers with the greatest of care. There were so few children left. She swallowed and glanced around the room. So many faces were tear-stained. Those absent were painfully missed.

  She felt someone touch her shoulder. Maria had come over after all. Anna smiled fondly at her friend. ‘It’s good to see you here.’

  Since Ruth’s death, Maria had become completely withdrawn, only speaking when necessary and doing everything she could to avoid Yvo. Anna couldn’t blame her. It must be horrific to be constantly reminded of what she had lost.

  When the time had come for the Christmas celebrations, Anna had asked her friend to join them, although Maria had only shaken her head. It was nice to see that she had changed her mind.

  ‘Here.’ Maria was holding out a little doll.

  Anna’s heart missed a beat. She had seen Ruth play with it hundreds of times.

  ‘For Yvo,’ Maria said quietly.

  ‘I . . . I can’t take that,’ Anna stammered.

  Maria wiped her cheeks. ‘Please,’ she whispered. ‘Ruth . . .’ Her eyes filled with more tears. ‘Ruth doesn’t need it any more.’

  ‘But there’s another baby on the way,’ Anna protested quietly.

  The hint of a smile crossed Maria’s lips. The secret, happy expression of a mother-to-be. ‘Yes,’ she said, stroking her stomach, ‘and if it’s another girl, perhaps Yvo can give the doll to her one day.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘I’m certain. Toys aren’t meant to be hidden away when there are children to delight in them.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Anna said, and squeezed her hand, then waved to Yvo to come over.

  Yvo’s eyes shone when Maria gave her the doll. ‘Thank you!’ she cried, and flung her arms around Maria’s neck.

  Anna couldn’t help noticing how the young woman hesitated before she hugged Yvo back. Maria’s lips brushed Yvo’s soft cheek. ‘Look after her, won’t you?’ she whispered.

  ‘I promise,’ Yvo said solemnly, before running off to show her present to Rita.

  ‘Would you like some tea?’ Anna asked gently.

  ‘Yes, please,’ Maria said, sitting down beside her.

  As Anna went over to the pot standing on the stove, people began to stir. She looked around to see what was going on but couldn’t work it out at first. Some women left the hut, while others just went over to their beds. It was only when they started coming back with small gifts that Anna realised what was happening. Inspired by Maria’s example, people were returning with a toy, a book or a notepad – things they had kept to remember their loved ones – which they were now ready to give to other people’s children to make them happy.

  Anna blinked away tears, trying to contain all her own grief and emotion. She couldn’t begin to imagine how hard it must be to part with these things, and yet everyone was smiling.

  Someone started to sing a Christmas carol and one by one everyone joined in the traditional songs from back home.

  The memory of everything they had lost hit
Anna without warning. How different this Christmas was to any in living memory, how different from anything she could ever have imagined or desired. They had been uprooted and sent into exile, lost anything they had ever held dear, and yet somehow they had managed to keep their identity. No one could take away their language or their songs or their beliefs. This thought gave her hope as the words swelled and rang out into the night.

  The door opened and Natalya and Fjedja hovered on the doorstep, uncertain if they would be welcome or not.

  Anna beckoned the Russian couple over. It wasn’t their religion and they didn’t understand the foreign hymns, but they were a part of this new community and had no need to spend the evening by themselves in a dark hut. It no longer mattered where people were from, what they had been in a different life or what language they spoke. The storm that had flung them all together had changed things. Their survival depended on them all holding together.

  Much later, when the children huddled around the stove had fallen asleep and the adults had started to repeat the songs they were singing, the door opened again.

  A tall figure appeared in the doorway – wrapped up against the cold, covered in snow. It was impossible to recognise the man, but Anna’s heart leapt. As her eyes widened in surprise, she waited for him to step forward into the light and then there was no holding her back.

  ‘Willi!’ she sobbed, unable to believe her eyes. She hugged him tightly, not bothering about the snow that covered him from head to toe and which soaked her dress as it started to melt, nor the scarf that he had wrapped around his head, hiding everything except his eyes. She knew it was him. Her heart had recognised him.

  ‘Happy Christmas,’ he whispered in her ear, and she heard every ounce of joy, love and relief resonating in those two words.

  He released himself gently from her embrace and only now did she notice all the intrigued, worried and hopeful eyes looking in their direction. She cleared her throat, embarrassed, and knocked the droplets of water and snowflakes off her dress. Wilhelm would not have come without reason. Suddenly she too was gripped with nerves.

  Nonetheless, she was not prepared to fully let go of her husband now that he was standing beside her so unexpectedly – and looking so alive and well. She pushed her arm through his and pressed her cheek against his damp, scratchy shoulder.

  Wilhelm unwound the scarf from around his face and looked at everyone. Anna saw the dismay and confusion as he realised there were far fewer people than expected. He looked around in alarm, and she realised what was wrong. ‘Our children are asleep,’ she whispered quietly, and felt some of the tension disappear from his body.

  ‘Happy Christmas,’ he called out loudly. ‘I’ve brought something for you all.’ With these words he let the rucksack slide from his shoulders onto the floor and crouched down to open it.

  He took out a small package tied with string and Anna realised that it was a bunch of letters – signs of life from everyone who had left the settlement with Wilhelm. One after the other, women drew closer, their faces full of hope and dread. Anna looked down as she herself nestled into her husband, so glad she didn’t have to wait for a letter to find out if he was still alive. Her heart ached for those women who would receive a death certificate instead of a letter from their beloved, but she wasn’t going to think about it now, didn’t want to spoil her own happiness, even if there were others who weren’t so lucky.

  Wilhelm put an arm round her waist. ‘I missed you so much,’ he whispered.

  She smiled and drew him away into the shadows and then on outside.

  ‘What are you doing?’ he asked, but there was a certain tone in his voice that told her he knew very well what she was after.

  ‘I want to be alone with my husband,’ she answered, pressing herself against him. Her lips found his as he wrapped his coat around her and pulled her even closer, protecting her from the freezing cold.

  He kissed her long and tenderly, his beard gently scraping across her skin. He smelled of smoke and sweat and yet he was so achingly familiar. His tongue darted into her mouth and she started to breathe more quickly. ‘Come with me,’ she whispered, making herself pull away and taking his hand. Breathless, she ran ahead of him to their own dark hut.

  They had barely closed the door behind them before he pressed her against the wall, throwing his coat carelessly to the ground. His hands easily found her breasts under the thick folds of her clothes.

  Tenderly she ran her fingers through his long, matted hair, trying to grasp the fact that this was actually happening, that he was really here with her. That it was not just a dream from which she could wake up any minute.

  ‘I’d really like to repeat that,’ he whispered with regret as he set her down gently on the floor, ‘but I’m afraid I’m pretty tired right now.’

  Anna came back to earth with a bump from the cloud of bliss on which she had been floating since his arrival. She still had no idea why he was here or how long it had taken him to arrive. She slipped her trousers back on and straightened her dress.

  ‘Are you hungry or thirsty?’

  ‘Both.’

  She looked at him reproachfully. ‘Why didn’t you say? We could have waited . . .’ She stopped talking, turning red.

  He pinched her bottom, grinning. ‘I was far more hungry for you first.’

  ‘Go over to the stove and I’ll bring everything you need right away.’ She was trying to scold him and sound disapproving and stern, but she couldn’t. She was far too happy to have him here at last.

  The wood in the stove had nearly burned away and gave off only a weak glimmer of heat. While Anna stirred in a little water to soften the mashed potatoes left over from the evening meal, Wilhelm put some more wood on the fire.

  ‘This is all I’ve got at the moment, I’m afraid,’ she said apologetically as she gave him the bowl and some pine needle tea. She was so used to the tart, slightly sour-tasting brew by now that she didn’t like to do without it.

  ‘This is a real feast compared to the sludge we’re usually given,’ Wilhelm muttered, and started to eat hungrily.

  Only then did Anna notice something was wrong by how clumsily he lifted the mug to his lips. It took a couple of seconds for her to understand why, her mind refusing to believe what she was seeing. Willi was missing two fingers on his left hand. Stunned, she drew a sharp breath.

  He looked up, saw her gaze and shrugged almost apologetically. ‘It’s not pretty, but it could have been a lot worse,’ he said.

  ‘What . . . what happened?’

  ‘A tree we were supposed to be chopping down suddenly split in two. The splinters flew through the air like bullets. One of them ripped off my fingers. I’m lucky it wasn’t my eyes.’

  ‘When did it happen?’ The wound seemed to have healed well some time ago. Smooth scar tissue stretched across the empty space on his knuckles.

  ‘At the beginning of the second week.’ He snorted. ‘Actually it was about the best thing that could have happened to me.’

  Anna stared at him in disbelief.

  ‘I couldn’t work for several days and offered to look after the administration, counting the tree trunks and checking the figures. That’s nothing new for me – it’s one of the things I used to do back home, except then it was out in the fields and bags of corn instead of trees. Anyway, I got on so well that the foreman was prepared to acknowledge it and gave me the job for good. He was barely able to communicate with us on his own. I’d already been translating for him.’

  ‘And why are you here now? Not that I’m complaining, mind,’ she added, smiling.

  ‘I’m here to get fresh supplies and stock and to report on our progress, and it was a wonderful opportunity to bring the letters we’d all been writing in the hope we’d be able to get them to you somehow eventually. I really did hurry to get here today. I thought it would be a nice Christmas present.’

  ‘The best of all,’ Anna agreed, leaning against him. She gazed at him happily as he ate his mashed p
otato.

  ‘How long can you stay?’ she asked hesitantly after a while.

  ‘Two or three days, depending on how long it takes to organise everything.’

  ‘And what happens then?’

  ‘We should have cleared enough wood by the spring to be able to start building houses.’

  ‘And where do you live now?’

  ‘We built a barracks and are all crammed in like sardines in a tin.’

  Anna gasped, appalled, but Wilhelm only shrugged again. ‘At least we stay warm that way, and we don’t spend much time in there anyway. It’s not forever. It will be far more comfortable once the other huts are built and then you will all come and join us. It’s going to be a big settlement, although’ – and now his voice grew grave – ‘there don’t seem to be many families left.’

  ‘We had measles,’ she explained. ‘Poor food, weak children, no medicine . . .’ She swallowed. ‘I have never seen the disease rage as it badly as it did here.’

  ‘But our children really are all right?’ he checked, worried all over again.

  ‘Yes,’ she said soothingly. ‘Yvo didn’t catch anything at all. Erich and Rita were sick. Rita nearly died, but then the doctor arrived just in time and saved her. We’ve only brought her back from the hospital in Luza today.’

  ‘There’s a hospital in Luza?’

  ‘Yes, it was set up because of the epidemic. I hope they keep it going.’

  ‘It would be good if it could. There are more resettlers coming in the spring. How is Friedrich, by the way?’ Wilhelm suddenly asked.

  ‘He’s dead,’ Anna told him softly. ‘There was nothing more I could do for him, and I have no idea how to tell Martha. She entrusted him to me and I . . .’

  ‘You won’t have to tell her anything any more,’ Wilhelm answered quietly. ‘They are already together. Sending her off with us was her death sentence. We tried to spare her and maybe she could have managed to survive somehow, but then she fell through the ice. A tree had fallen on the frozen river and we were trying to dislodge it – she was helping. The ice must have cracked when the tree fell. We pulled her out at once, of course, but she never recovered. She lay in front of the stove for two weeks, plagued with fever and the shakes, before death finally took her.’ Wilhelm fell silent and wiped his eyes.