What made Ben feel bitter was that neither Dad nor Sean mentioned Mam, almost as though she’d never existed. Granny was the only one Ben could talk to about her, recalling the good times. When he confided that he had trouble picturing her as she was before her illness, Granny had placed an old photo on the mantelpiece; it was cracked and a little faded, but Mam was smiling in her yellow dress, a tiny hat with a wisp of veiling and high-heeled white shoes.
Ben felt comforted. And though Dad never mentioned it, Ben noticed that one day he’d put it in a frame.
***
Kneeling to poke the fire in Number 17, Ben heard a gentle tap on the door – surely too early for the family’s return? A neighbour? Or perhaps …? He hurried to open the door.
Renata stood there, her hair plastered down by the rain. Ben threw an anxious glance down the wet street as he ushered her in, taking her battered suitcase and heavy sewing machine, and seating her in Leon Golden’s sagging armchair. She looked exhausted, and Ben, knowing what Granny would do, hastened to make her a cup of tea with the used tea-leaves from the tin. Peering into the breadbin he cut off a hunk of the fresh Sabbath bread, hoping it wasn’t going to get him into trouble with anyone. He paused, then added the slice of cake left out for him.
Gratefully, Renata gulped the tea and wolfed down the food. ‘That is good,’ she said with a little smile. ‘Er, Hetty, she not here?’
‘She’ll be back soon.’
She seemed to understand, and as the room grew warm she unbuttoned her worn cardigan, closed her eyes, and instantly fell asleep.
Instead of leaving Number 17 when he had finished work, Ben remained, watching over the sleeping girl, observing the worry lines on her forehead. If he’d reported her that day, Uncle Matt had explained, she’d have been sent to Belfast and possibly to England, and there, if you were German and over seventeen you’d be classified as an enemy alien and maybe imprisoned or deported.
Thankfully his uncle had put him right. Now, of course, he and Auntie Bridie had the heartache of Paddy being wounded. As soon as they returned from Liverpool, Ben decided he’d go straight round to see them.
The sudden rattle of the lock signalled the family’s return. Ben rushed to the door, finger on his lips. They all crept in.
When Hetty saw Renata asleep in the chair, the empty mug and plate beside her, she turned to Ben. As before, the look held between them. She stepped towards him, and for a wild moment he thought she was going to hug him. But she stopped short and mumbled, ‘Thanks … I mean, for looking after her and … well, you know …’
The moment passed. Still, Ben was invited to the Sabbath lunch, the ‘cholent’ that had been cooking slowly on the range since the night before. Knowing Granny was at a church cake sale, and Dad and Sean were at work, Ben, pleased but slightly nervous, accepted.
Renata, only now realising Ben wasn’t a family member, eyed him suspiciously, but Eddie told her: ‘It’s all right. He’s a friend.’ She glanced for confirmation at Hetty, who nodded. Though she was unsmiling, Ben knew she’d forgiven him.
At the meal, Renata said little but ate ravenously. Then she slept again, in Hetty’s bed upstairs. After lunch, Eddie went home. ‘I’ll tell Da about Renata, he’ll talk to the Refugee Committee,’ he told Hetty. ‘I’ll be back later.’
Then, as Ben left, Hetty followed him to the door. ‘You come back too, Ben, you’re in this now.’ She added in her bossy way, ‘Mind – not a word to anyone!’
Strolling the few steps to his house, he realised it was the first time she’d used his name. Energised and excited at being involved with something so important, he recalled Eddie once saying to him, ‘Hetty makes you do things you’d never do yourself.’
As Ben entered Number 19, Sean was just coming out. ‘Still doing that boring Sabbath job, Specky?’
‘Ben, to you,’ he replied coolly, and stalked into the house, leaving Sean gazing after him, puzzled and a little put out.
***
Later on, Hetty’s parents sat expectantly with Bobba and Zaida in the parlour of Number 17, with Eddie, Hetty and Ben on the floor and Solly crawling about, as Renata told her story.
She described her family in Berlin and explained that her father was a doctor. ‘He have patients from all religions,’ she told them. ‘And us children, we have Christian friends, Jewish friends, it not matter. We are happy.’ Her voice trembled. ‘In Berlin in summer people sit in open-air cafés with talk and music, children playing. It was–’ she stopped, remembering. ‘But then Hitler and Nazis were – how do you say – elect? And everything change.’ Her grey-green eyes were full of tears.
‘Don’t distress yourself, my dear,’ said Zaida gently, handing her a handkerchief.
But Renata, mopping her eyes, said, ‘No, it is good for me to have somebody to tell …’
She told them about the prison camps, and how Jews were gradually dehumanised and everything they owned stolen by the Nazis.
‘They take our furniture, bicycle, wireless, camera,’ she said. ‘Later even Papa’s stethoscope, and Minka, our little cat. In the end we have … nothing.’
She continued, in a whisper, ‘On our coats all Jews, small children too, must wear yellow star with “Jude” on it.’ The words seemed torn from her. ‘My brother Walter get away on boat to Palestine. In Berlin Nazis do not let Jews work as doctor. After long time Papa get visa to work in factory in Ireland, at, er, Lang Vord?’
They shook their heads, puzzled. ‘Longford?’ tried Da.
‘Ya, Longford. They make there–’ searching for the word, she pointed to her head.
‘Hats?’ ‘Caps?’ ‘Wigs?’ ‘Ribbons?’, they chorused, laughing to lighten the tragic story. Renata, with a quick smile, nodded at ‘ribbons’, her hair, now dry, falling down her shoulders like a golden silk net.
In Longford her father was refused entry visas for Ireland for the rest of the family. Meanwhile from Berlin the family fled to Warsaw …
Renata’s voice was growing hoarse, as they sat, frozen, listening.
‘It’s enough!’ Da jumped up, agitated. ‘This is too upsetting.’
‘For her, Da, or for us?’ asked Hetty sharply. He glared at her, but Renata insisted, ‘You must hear, too many not want to know. And it not so far away …’ She shivered, and they all, Hetty cuddling Mossy to her, felt the sudden chill.
‘You must rest your voice, dear,’ Ma said soothingly to Renata. ‘We’ll have a hot drink.’
In the kitchen, even Mabel was subdued, murmuring hesitantly, ‘At least we’re safe here–’
‘If the Nazis don’t invade,’ declared Hetty. How could anyone, listening to Renata’s story, feel safe? For some reason she felt glad that Ben, quietly listening, was there with them.
As they brought in the hot shell cocoa, Bobba said to her son, ‘Surely, Leon, we can listen to a girl whose life has been torn apart?’
‘We must all know,’ Zaida agreed, ‘what the Nazis do in Germany, in Poland – and everywhere they rule.’ Ben and Hetty both followed his glance up at the photographs from Lithuania with the serious children and the grandmother holding the baby.
Ma carried Solly in from the kitchen, clutching his bottle, to say good night. As Renata hugged him, her face was transformed and they saw her, not as a refugee, harried and troubled, but as a beautiful, serene young girl.
22
Shelter
‘In Warsaw,’ Renata told them later, ‘no one ever smile. Always we are in fear. Then my father arrange letter to me from aunt in Ireland saying she must see me before she died–’
‘You have an aunt here?’ asked Ma, surprised.
Renata shook her head. ‘No, it was a …’
‘A fabrication?’ put in Da.
A white lie, thought Ben, to save a life.
‘But it worked?’ asked Mabel.
Renata nodded. ‘Every day people stand in long lines for visas, like Berlin. But Mutti show the letter, and also bribe official with gold wedding ring she
had hide, and I get visa for Ireland, four week only.’ She pulled a tattered piece of paper from her pocket, the typed words and official stamps and signatures faded and smudged. ‘Now I am … this word I know … illegal.’
‘But how did you get to Dalkey?’ asked Eddie.
Caught up in her story, speaking faster and faster, she described the difficult journey by train and boat, finally reaching what she called ‘Dun Lerry’, meaning Dun Laoghaire. She stayed first in a room near the ferry terminal. ‘I have little money left. I write my father, but his address in Long Ford, it is change. Then,’ she went on, ‘two men from the Department of Extra– how you say?’
‘External Affairs?’ asked Ma.
‘Yes, they call, they say I must leave. And the next day, I see big letters in paper: NAZIS BOMB WARSAW! They march into Poland.’ She clutched Zaida’s handkerchief tightly. ‘Later I sit on bus with my things, thinking what will happen to my family now Nazis are in Warsaw? I am weeping, and a kind lady show me in a newspaper, Rooms To Let.’
She rented a room in Dalkey, where the family was good to her. ‘They help me get sewing machine on HP, paying each week, and I do alterations and get some money. They teach me English too. But one day I see man was police.’
‘Did he give you away?’ asked Hetty.
Renata shook her head. ‘No, he ask me stay, with smaller rent because of my trouble. But there is too much risk for me, also for his job.’
So I misjudged that man, thought Hetty, as she and Eddie exchanged glances.
‘I move to small, cheap room in basement. It is dark, blankets are damp. I fear to tell my address.’
She paused for breath, and Mabel burst out, ‘We’re always complaining about stupid things that don’t matter, and look at all you’ve been through!’
Hetty’s eyes met Ben’s. He’d lost his mam. That was something that did matter. Hetty had the sensation again of a special link between them, that each knew what the other was thinking.
‘Did you get letters from your family?’ Eddie asked Renata.
‘After war start in Poland there are not any more letters …’ her voice faded so they could hardly hear her. ‘I do not know what happen to Mutti and Ella and Papa’s family in Warsaw, or Walter. I do not even know where is my father, perhaps he has left ribbon factory. I must find him, he is all left of my family …’ She gave a deep shuddering sigh, her head drooping like a flower after heavy rain.
For moments they were all silent. What could you say? Into Ben’s mind crept Granny’s words: ‘seas of sorrow’.
***
As Da rose to leave for the evening service, he touched Renata’s shoulder kindly. ‘I’ll see Sam in the synagogue,’ he muttered, ‘maybe Renata can stay with them.’
‘I’m sure that’d be all right–’ said Eddie eagerly.
But Hetty chimed in, ‘Why can’t she stay with us?’
‘Quiet, Hetty,’ snapped Da. ‘We have to think this through. There are dangers – and things are not so easy for us now.’
As the door slammed behind him, Ma said slowly to Eddie, ‘You know, I’m not sure Renata should go to your house. Sam’s on the Refugee Committee, and he’s a leader of the community. It’s a higher risk.’
‘Sarah is right.’ Zaida got up and put his arm round Renata. ‘To the immigration people our Renata is an “illegal alien”. Better not in Sam’s house.’
Hetty nodded vigorously as Zaida went on, ‘Bobba and I have not much room, but we will pay happily from our savings for Renata’s keep.’ Everyone waited for Bobba’s usual sharp response, but she said quietly, ‘Of course, we must all help.’
‘The Refugee Committee might help too,’ put in Eddie. ‘I’ll ask Da.’
‘Then it’s settled,’ Hetty declared quickly. ‘Renata must stay here. She can have my bed.’ She glanced at Ma. ‘Da’ll come around, won’t he?’ Ma said nothing, but gave a tiny smile, and Hetty knew she would persuade him.
‘Still, we have to remember the dangers,’ warned Eddie. ‘Someone might spot her, word could get out.’
‘We’ll be very careful.’ Hetty took Renata’s hand. ‘If you can stay hidden here till the fuss dies down, then we can help you find your father.’
There was agreement all round.
Mossy, curled on the hearthrug, woke up, shook himself, then went over to Renata, who had been listening as the discussion seethed around her, and pushed his wet nose into her hand.
Stroking his velvety head, she murmured, ‘I thank you mit meinem ganzen Herz.’ She held out her hands to them all with a wide smile. ‘In English, I think – with all of my heart.’
‘It’s like a film,’ said Mabel dreamily, adding hastily, ‘except, of course, it’s real.’ Hetty and Ben exchanged a grin.
Hiding her emotion, Renata said, ‘Also I have machine. I could help with sewing?’
Ma smiled, and, pointing to the heap of clothing on the shelf, said a heartfelt, ‘Oh, yes!’
***
But when Da returned from the synagogue with Uncle Sam, their faces were grave. Uncle Sam went straight to Renata. ‘I’m happy to meet you, my dear.’ He shook her hand. ‘Leon’s told me some of your story. You’ve shown such courage.’ He cleared his throat. ‘But I must tell you, I heard today from the Committee that immigration officers are now on the trail of what they call “an illegal female refugee known to be in the Portobello area”.’
Renata, pale as a marble statue, whispered, ‘All I hope is short time till I find Papa.’ She clasped her hands tightly together. ‘But I am fear they look for me now in Jewish homes in Portobello.’
Uncle Sam sat down heavily. ‘I’m afraid time is not on our side–’
He was interrupted by a knock on the front door. A tremor ran through the room. Renata leapt up from her seat. Putting a finger to her lips, Ma went quietly to the door and called, ‘Who is it?’
Inside the crowded parlour, as Mabel clutched her hand, Hetty thought, this must be what it’s like for Jews waiting for the Nazi SS to burst in. But, of course, this wasn’t Germany and the Nazis weren’t here. Ma opened the door, and they heard friendly voices, even a laugh.
Coming back in, she said, ‘It’s all right, just Carmel to borrow a cup of sugar.’ But her face was pale. ‘I told her you’d pop over later, Mabel.’
Hetty could see Renata was trembling. ‘It’s all right, Renata, it’s only a friend,’ she said soothingly. ‘Even if they knew you were here, they wouldn’t tell anyone,’ she added.
Hetty hoped that was true. But all of them, especially Ben, were aware that though most of the neighbours would keep silent, there might always be somebody who would tell.
***
Zaida and Bobba hugged everyone and then the frail old couple went off arm-in-arm. Before he left, Uncle Sam told them the Refugee Committee was trying to arrange for Renata to go north to Millisle, the refugee farm in County Down which sheltered young people who’d escaped from Europe on Kindertransports.
‘But that’s taking her even further away from her father,’ Hetty protested to Eddie, who’d stayed behind.
Through Renata’s sad recital and then the sudden knock at the door, Ben had said little. But, as he became increasingly aware of her danger in Number 17, an idea gradually took shape in his mind. He knew it was risky, maybe it just wasn’t possible. But he owed it to Renata to try.
He said quietly to Eddie, beside him, ‘D’you think she’d be safer in a house that wasn’t Jewish?’
Eddie hesitated. ‘Well, I s’pose so.’
Ben continued slowly, ‘Maybe she could stay with my Uncle Matt and Auntie Bridie? They’re in Ovoca Road, on the edge of Portobello. There aren’t many …’ he stopped, embarrassed.
Hetty finished, ‘Not so many Jewish families there.’ Her blue eyes had lit up, sparkling. ‘That could be a help.’
Ben stumbled on, ‘The thing is, they’re only coming back from Liverpool on the mail boat today with my cousin, Paddy. He’s been wounded, and I’d have to a
sk them.’
‘Your cousin’s fighting in the war?’ Da, who usually avoided Ben, was impressed.
But already Ben could see problems he hadn’t thought of. How badly injured was Paddy? Maybe the family had enough to worry about? And what if his dad found out and did what he himself had once tried to do? Or Sean?
Renata, Hetty and Eddie looked at him gratefully, but Ben was asking himself, how did I get into this?
As he left Number 17, a figure loomed beside him in the rain-swept street. He jumped, but it was only Mabel’s current boyfriend – who was short and plump and had replaced tennis-mad Cyril – arriving with a bunch of flowers. Ben called Mabel urgently and she came rushing out, looking anxious.
Hetty appeared in the hall, rolled her eyes, then grinned at Ben, and firmly closed the door behind them all, while Mabel gabbled to the puzzled visitor, pushing him back into the street, ‘Oh, what a surprise, er, lovely flowers, I’m afraid we can’t go inside because … er, someone’s sort of sick …’
Another white lie, thought Ben. This was all going to be very tricky.
He decided, as usual, to go to Granny first. With her help, maybe he could finally play his longed-for part in the rescue of Renata, and make Hetty happy – and his mam proud.
23
If Not Now, When?
As he pushed open the front door, Ben’s confidence was already draining away. To his immense relief only Granny was home, dozing in the súgán chair, the socks she had been darning in a heap in her lap, the wireless chattering unheard beside her, a sponge cake she had bought at a church sale on the table.
Ben made a cup of tea. As he put it down beside her she woke, smiled with an effort, and said softly, ‘Well, Benny pet, what trouble are ye in now?’
As she sipped the weak tea he related Renata’s story. Listening, her expression was full of sympathy. ‘God help that poor young girl – and Matt and Bridie not back yet with Paddy, though I’m sure they’ll help.’ She sighed. ‘If only Marie was here …’
17 Martin Street Page 12