The Forgotten Daughter

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The Forgotten Daughter Page 7

by Mary Wood


  Mags flew forward. ‘Get off her, you bastard!’

  His arm knocked Mags off-balance. The girl turned towards them, her face etched with pain and terror. A laugh filled the air as another soldier, naked and obviously awaiting his turn, leapt on top of Mags. Before Flora could react, her arm was clamped in an agonizing grasp.

  ‘You will do me, pretty one.’

  She looked into the lust-filled eyes of the soldier she’d spoken to earlier. ‘No! No, don’t touch me.’

  An agonizing cry from Mags lit Flora’s temper. She lifted the candlestick and brought it down on the soldier’s arm. His hand loosened its grip, as he gasped with the pain of the blow, but then his stance changed and his face contorted with hate as he lashed out at her.

  Landing on her back, Flora felt her breath leaving her lungs. Before she could gasp in any air, he was on top of her. ‘You’ll pay for that – international treaty or not. You’re not in uniform now, so how am I to know who or what you are? You’re a slut who came to our room to join in the fun.’

  Horror seeped into Flora as she felt his hand lift her nightdress and caress her bare thigh. She hadn’t even any clothing to protect her, or to slow his advance. ‘No! No! Please don’t . . . don’t!’

  Once more Mags cried out, a sound of pain and desolation, which filled Flora with fresh anger. Lifting her legs, she kicked out. The surprise of her attack caught the soldier off-guard, and he let go of her arms to defend his bare torso. Flailing with her fist, Flora felt as if a wild cat had entered her, as she saw a defeated and distressed Mags being raped unmercifully.

  ‘Oh God. Oh, dear God, help us!’

  The door behind her was flung open. ‘Was ist los? Stehen um Aufmerksamkeit.’

  A disgusting group of naked, sweaty bodies stood to attention. Flora turned in horror and saw blood covering the genitals of the soldier who had hastily withdrawn from a sobbing Mags. She crawled along the floor and took Mags in her arms. There was nothing she could say.

  The officer who had entered spoke to Flora’s attacker. With the little German she knew, Flora understood that he’d asked who the girls were. She saw his face change to extreme anger at the reply of: ‘Zwei davon sind Rote Kreuz.’ Rote Kreuz, she knew, meant the Red Cross.

  A tirade of angry words spat from the officer. Flora held Mags’s shivering body close to her. No sound came from her, but from behind, she could hear the soft whimper of the hotel maid.

  Shamefaced, the officer who had attacked her, and who had spoken to them in English, translated that they were to go to their room and that nothing of this must be spoken of or reported, otherwise reprisals would be brought down on the townsfolk. ‘One child will be shot, every hour of tomorrow, if this gets out.’

  Flora cringed. The brutal reality of war was more horrific than she dared ever imagine. ‘I will take the maid with us, and we need your assurance concerning our future safety.’

  The officer looked surprised at this and sought translation. On hearing what she’d said, he nodded, but a second warning issued from him, which the soldier translated. ‘In future, whilst you are in this hotel, you will not mix with the staff. You will keep yourselves out of sight as much as you can. And do not leave your room without uniform, no matter what time of the day or night. You must be recognizable to my men at all times. If you talk of this, the reprisal I spoke of will be carried out – and that goes for the maid, too. Now, leave at once and see to these two girls. Make sure they understand the consequences of anything of what occurred here being known.’

  Flora nodded. Leaving a sobbing Mags to hold on to the bed, she went over to the broken maid. In French, she spoke soothing words.

  ‘What is this? You speak French? Just who are you, girl?’ A smile crossed the face of her attacker. He turned and spoke in German to his officer. Flora held her breath.

  ‘What is your real purpose in being here, girl?’

  Mustering her dignity, Flora stood to her full height. ‘I’m a volunteer with the Red Cross. I’ve been sent here to act as an interpreter to the nurses and my fellow volunteers. We are solely here to treat the wounded of any nation who need us – yours included. Tomorrow we plan to go out of the gates, as we have heard there are wounded still out there.’

  After speaking to the officer, relating what she’d said, the soldier turned back to her. ‘You are to report in the morning to Herr Aldelstein, in the office that was the manager’s. All of the Red Cross nurses must attend.’

  Nodding her head, Flora helped the maid to her feet and supported her as they made their way towards Mags, who stood up straight and nodded at her. Flora felt the tears that had flowed during her own attack prick the back of her eyes once more, as she saw the dignity that Mags had mustered. Seeing a need in another person had helped her, and she moved forward and took the other arm of the maid. Flora managed a small smile at Mags, which she hoped conveyed her compassion.

  Once outside the room, Mags seemed to collapse inwards. With the weight of the maid resting on Flora’s body, she could do nothing. ‘Hold it together, Mags. You can do it. Let’s go to the bathroom.’

  Flora took charge when they stepped inside the clinical-looking bathroom, with its black-and-white tiles and scrubbed flagstone floor, covered in a soft gold-pile matting. ‘Run the bath, Mags.’ And to the maid in French, ‘Please don’t be afraid – we will help you and take care of you. But I must ask you: did you understand what would happen, if you tell anyone about this?’

  The girl shook her head. Flora related the horrific threat that the German officer had made. ‘And they will do it. I have heard of them carrying out such reprisals in Serbia, so please heed what they say.’

  The girl’s mouth dropped open, and her eyes showed her despair.

  ‘Try not to worry. We will have to find a way to cope, without breathing a word of what took place.’

  The girl nodded, tears streamed down her bruised face and she wiped the snot from her nose. Flora pulled her trembling body close and held her.

  Mags, who had stood by as if made of stone, moved at this and silently took over, helping the girl into the bath.

  ‘I’ll fetch clean nightwear for us all, and we’ll take the girl to our bedroom for the night, so that we can care for her, Mags.’ Flora so wanted to hold Mags, but she had put up a wall, and Flora knew she wouldn’t be able to penetrate it just yet.

  ‘What is her name?’ Mags asked, without any emotion in her voice.

  ‘Oh, I forgot to ask. Quel est votre nom?’

  ‘Aliz.’

  ‘All will be fine, Aliz.’ Flora explained to her what was happening, then left them to it. Outside in the corridor once more, she took a deep breath. A low wolf-whistle got her standing still in shock, then taking flight and running for her life to their bedroom, only to find the door locked. Banging on it as if her life depended upon it, she nearly fell over when it opened suddenly.

  Frightened eyes stared at her. Ella moved forward. ‘What happened? You’re bruised. Oh, Flors, where’s Mags? Oh, dear God!’

  As seemed to happen when others showed fear, strength entered Flora now. ‘I need three uniforms.’ The request shocked her, but the wolf-whistle had reminded her just how vulnerable they were. ‘Mags’s and mine, and one other. One of your size, Ella. Hurry! Something terrible has happened.’ As briefly as she could, she told the others in a low voice what had occurred, adding the threat that had been placed over them. ‘Nothing must leak out about this – nothing! Promise me. Promise.’

  A shocked silence followed.

  ‘We must be brave and remain dignified, but we must obey. Don’t even go to the toilet without donning your uniform, for it will protect you. We must go as one brave, united front to the office in the morning. Now promise me that you will all do as I say.’

  Phyllis stepped forward. ‘We will, Flora. This is devastating, but we will find a way to cope; we have to, for your sake and Mags’s. Now, girls, get those uniforms. And, Flora, I left the room earlier when you were al
l asleep. The Germans were all in the bar drinking and singing then, so I managed to collar the manager without being seen and get him to speak English to me. He gave me all I asked for – a gas ring and a kettle, tea and milk and even sugar, as well as some mugs. So how’s that for resourcefulness, eh? The kettle will be boiling on your return. Hurry along.’

  In Phyllis, Flora recognized a natural-born leader, and knew her to be a brave soul who would be a massive asset to the group. An uneasy calm was settling amongst the others as they put into action Phyllis’s orders. But she knew that her own language skills would mean that she must take a lead role, too. So far tonight she had proved to herself that she could, even though the horror of what had happened to her, and the others, set a shudder trembling through her.

  Though she felt dirtier than she’d ever felt in her life, Flora took a moment to don her uniform before returning to the bathroom. This time the few soldiers who stood smoking at the other end of the landing turned their backs on her as she walked towards them. Amongst them was her attacker. As she neared him, he stared at her in contempt. His hand went to his crutch and he thrust his lower body forward in a gyrating movement.

  Flora lifted her head and let out a laugh, something she least felt like doing. His face reddened, before showing extreme anger. Her stomach muscles clenched, but she stood up straight and walked on in a determined way. As she came up to him, the spittle gathered in her mouth. It took all her control not to spit it in his face, but she knew that would lower her to his standards and might cause his anger to tip over.

  Once in the bathroom, she leaned heavily on the door. Aliz sat on the toilet seat wrapped in a huge towel. Tears poured down her face. There would be no comforting her, as there was nothing in this world that could achieve that, so Flora deliberately went into efficiency mode and instructed Aliz to put on the uniform – and the trembling girl stood and did as she was bid.

  Mags sat in the steaming bath, her head resting back. Flora moved forward and stroked her wet hair off her face, guessing that she’d dunked her head in the hot water. She understood that, as she too felt she needed to cleanse the whole of herself, and not just her torso.

  ‘Mags, the girls know. I had to tell them; we couldn’t possibly hide it from them. But they also know that they mustn’t breathe a word, either now or in the future, when we are assigned placements.’

  Mags nodded. The despair in the gesture undid Flora and, despite having schooled herself to act in a strong manner, tears seeped from her until they were huge sobs. Mags’s wet arm wrapped around her, and together they collapsed into one another and sobbed.

  The hand stroking Flora’s back soothed her. She lifted her head and looked into Aliz’s brave smile and knew that showing your own vulnerability helped others, as it gave them the strength to cope, when they reached out to give comfort.

  ‘We will be all right. We can forget.’

  ‘We can, Aliz. And we will. What happened tonight, to you and Mags in particular, was a terrible thing, but we have to put it behind us and carry on. How will you keep safe, Aliz?’

  ‘I do not have a way. And I don’t see that we will have a choice, as we can’t leave.’

  Her situation was hopeless; Flora could see that, and didn’t know how to help. ‘Try to find hope, if you can. But keep safe, no matter what. The war will pass.’

  ‘Maybe I can join the Belgian Red Cross? Maybe you could put in a word for me?’

  ‘Have you had any nursing experience?’

  ‘I nursed my mother until she died.’

  ‘I’m so sorry for your loss. What about your father?’

  ‘My father is in the French army. I fear for his safety every day.’

  The pity of Aliz’s life hit Flora and her heart felt heavy. ‘Give it a try. You can keep this uniform – the others will understand. Go to the Red Cross tomorrow and tell them you were given this uniform by the English Red Cross nurses, to protect you from the lust of the soldiers. Tell them that you are afraid of the soldiers as you work nights at the hotel, and that you must leave your job. If you share your experience of looking after your mother, and the fact that your father is fighting for them, it might work.’

  ‘You have helped me so much. Thank you, I will do as you say.’

  ‘I haven’t a clue what you two are talking about, but I need to get out of this water and let you have a bath, Flors. Give me a hand, old thing.’ There was a flicker of the former Mags, and Flora felt glad of it.

  Once Mags was out of the water, with a towel wrapped around her, it was Flora’s turn.

  ‘I’ll wash you down, Flors.’

  ‘I can manage – you get dressed.’

  ‘No. I need to help you.’

  Flora allowed Mags to wash her down. The sensation of being cared for gave her comfort, and she thought of her dear Aunt Pru. How she would love to be by Pru’s side at this moment. To feel her arms around her, and to sink into her soft, loving body and be loved.

  ‘That’s it, Mags, I’m all clean. Let’s dress and get back to the other girls. There’ll be hot tea waiting for us.’

  But would hot tea ever soothe her again? And although she’d voiced the thought that they should try and forget all of this, she knew that she would never forget, and she knew that neither would the other two. The experience would bind them forever. She decided to give Aliz the address so that she could write to her through the Red Cross General Office, and implored her to keep in touch. War had brought them together in a vile way, but it had also cemented what she wanted to be a lifelong friendship of support and love.

  Chapter Eight

  A sleepless night had left Flora feeling empty. Her mind had gone over and over the events of the night before. Her heart ached for the restless Mags. Aliz had fallen into a fitful sleep, calling out and her body shaking with rebound sobs.

  And now, with the early morning, Flora faced her hated attacker again. He stood next to Herr Aldelstein, behind the highly polished desk. His glare directed towards her held contempt, as he interpreted what was being said.

  ‘Herr Aldelstein directs that you will explain your bruising as having happened during the fighting yesterday, when a stray shell hit the building across the street.’

  Flora nodded and saw out of the corner of her eye that Mags – whose poor face was blighted by a swollen black eye – did, too. They both knew that the outer signs of having been hurt were nothing compared to what they were coping with emotionally, or to the pain and soreness that Mags felt, from having been violated.

  This morning she’d spoken about it and had said that she was hanging on to the fact that her rapist had been interrupted, and so wouldn’t have made her pregnant. She’d looked around at them all and had pleaded with them never to tell a soul. ‘Not even when the war is ended. Please. I couldn’t bare for anyone but us to know.’

  They had made a pact. They’d sealed it by crossing their arms and all holding hands. Ella had said that she would always be there for them both, and the others had joined in saying they would, too. They’d gone into a group hug that had held love – nurtured by the situation they found themselves in – but which Flora felt would last long after they parted. The hug had included Aliz, who’d left early this morning with all their good wishes, in the hope that she would be accepted as a volunteer worker.

  ‘You are to be put to use, while you await your orders from the British Red Cross. Herr Aldelstein has spoken to the Belgium Red Cross director, Monsieur Reynard. They are coping with the wounded from the recent engagements and need your assistance. The Royal Palace, which was being used for this purpose, has been recommissioned. There are no wounded or dead left outside the gates. The rumours about this are untrue. Monsieur Reynard will send transport for you.’

  Flora was glad to get out of the office, and away from the insult in every look that the soldier gave her.

  ‘Well, I – for one – am jolly glad to be doing something at last. But I hope our orders come through soon. Come on, girls, let�
�s wait outside, I hate the atmosphere in here,’ Teddy muttered.

  Teddy had told them that her real name was Tamara Bear, but that she’d quickly been nicknamed ‘Teddy’ by her school friends. She seemed to Flora to be a most unlikely girl to have taken up nursing, being what you would term a horsey type. During their chats she had told of excelling in gymkhana events, and that she hoped to work with horses one day. There wasn’t much that you could say was attractive about her. Her tall frame was almost manly; she had light-brown hair that she fashioned into a bun; she was shortsighted, wearing small, round glasses that she peered out of, as if they didn’t really help her eyesight; and her protruding teeth did nothing to help her appearance. But for all that, Teddy came across as a good-natured soul, ready with her smile, and she was happy to go along with the crowd and do her bit.

  Once outside, the sun shone down warmly on them and lifted Flora’s spirits. She gazed across at the cafe where they’d sat yesterday and wondered how the women they’d met were coping. On the columns of the hotel, notices were posted that hadn’t been there yesterday. One told of a curfew, another of certain buildings that were to be requisitioned. The Metropole was the first on the list of this notice.

  Jane stood next to Teddy and was dwarfed by her. Small and quiet, she was a pretty, curly-haired girl, with freckles covering her face. She hadn’t spoken much at all, but had shown concern and kindness to Mags, holding her hand and making sure she could manage her tea, when they had returned to the room the night before.

  Martha’s tinkling laughter could be heard as she joined Teddy and Jane. Martha was the practical sort, and got on with things without moaning about them. She had a good sense of humour and seemed to find a lighter side to everything. Blonde and good-looking rather than pretty, she was the same average height as Ella and Flora were, though inclined to a little plumpness.

  Phyllis took charge again. ‘Look, girls, I think we should assert ourselves right away. We are not going to be skivvies to the Belgium lot, and neither are our volunteers. We have specific skills, and they are to use us to the best possible advantage of the patients. Flora, you will be spokesman of course, but make sure you get across that we want to work as a team and they should assign us as such.’

 

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