by Mary Wood
‘Hush. I’m getting into the bath with you.’
Giggles followed as he struggled with the hoist that he used to help himself into the bath. It was an ingenious device, like so many he had invented, and she had said he should patent and market it.
The splash his body made sent the soapy water in a wave, hitting her face and making her screw up her eyes and spit out the nasty-tasting suds from her mouth. ‘Laurent!’
He had positioned himself behind her, in the huge bath they’d had specially made and installed in the centre of this room, which used to be a playroom, but was now divided into a luxury bathroom and dressing room. It was another alteration that made access easy for Laurent.
Once he was sitting with Edith between his leg and his stump, he pulled her towards him and whispered, ‘I’m sorry. I was a beast to you. You didn’t deserve it, my darling.’
As she leaned against him, a calmness came over Edith. ‘I wasn’t crying over you. Well, partly. I have had news.’ Telling Laurent made the incredible contents of the letter real, and once more she cried, but these were tears of happiness. They were not mingled with anger at him, or at Petra, or at the sheer injustice of it all; they flowed because inside her she was beginning to feel that once more she could be whole again.
Laurent didn’t interrupt her, or try to stem her tears. He just held her, stroking her hair, soothing her and letting her talk. She needed that. She needed to air her worries about Ania, without being reassured by words that couldn’t know the truth.
Eventually he spoke. ‘My darling, I am so happy for you. At last, news after all these years. But I don’t think you should go to France, I think you should send a telegram to Marianne. Ask her to bring Elka and her young man here. There has been another announcement: France has declared war on Germany. This will mean that my country is in grave danger, because I believe Germany will invade France next. If they succeed, they will have easier access to these shores, but all of that will take time, and we can sort something out before then.’
Though this news made her heart lurch and a feeling of fear gripped her, she remained strong. ‘Germany will never win; we have so many allies. They didn’t beat us in the last war, and they won’t this time.’
‘We have to accept that Hitler is very powerful. He has prepared well – I have seen all along what his intention is. He wants to rule the world, bringing us all under German control. I am very afraid. He will wipe out the Jews and all such as me, who are maimed. We are of no use to him. He talks of a superior race. He is evil beyond words.’
‘Laurent, Marianne tells me that my daughters have been brought up as Jews. Oh God, Ania is still in Poland – it will be impossible to bring her out. What if she is killed?’
‘We have to think there will be a way. Remember last time? It was hope that supplied us with courage. We must latch onto that now, and continue to hold on to it. And we have to do our bit to help. I want to volunteer my services.’
‘What? How? No!’
‘I can’t fight, but as you know, my scientific mind can be channelled into inventions, and I am good at it. With war being a possibility, these last few months, I have been concentrating my time and effort on what might be needed. I think this war will be fought on many fronts and in many ways. It will be fought in the air, on land and at sea, and I believe espionage will play a major role too. I am going to contact Winston Churchill. He is a forward-thinking man. A warrior at heart. Look at his record in the Second Boar War. He will understand. He has been advocating preparing for war against Hitler for a long time, but no one would listen to him. Now he has been appointed First Lord of the Admiralty again, and he will have a great deal of say in our country’s weaponry and tactics. I will ring him. He and I got on very well, when we met at Eloise’s party a few weeks ago.’
‘Yes, I remember. You talked war all night, leaving me to my own devices.’
‘Ha! You can talk; you and Mark talked medicine all evening, leaving poor Jennifer to amuse herself.’
‘I know, but she was quite happy with Eloise. She is joining Eloise’s charity, now that her children are all at boarding school. Oh, Laurent, to think that after all these years Eloise is still mopping up after the last war, providing help to the disabled and their families. I wonder what a lot of them would have done without her? And here we are, ready to go to war all over again.’
‘Your own charity work continues as well, darling, and may have to expand. As you say, this war will be fought on all fronts – the home front being one of them. It is possible there will be much destruction and many orphaned children. Oh, it doesn’t bear thinking about.’
‘Let’s not. We are getting too far ahead. Our memories are causing us to feel doom and gloom, when the Allies may crush Hitler a lot sooner than we think. I just want to snuggle into you and dream of seeing my daughter Elka, and hope for my Ania’s safety.’
Laurent’s arms tightened around her. Inside, a flame lit that had been ready to ignite from the moment he’d held her naked body to his, but because of what had been said earlier, she had felt unable to approach him.
It was a shock to her when, after a few moments of silence, Laurent’s hands unclasped and found their way to her breasts. A moan escaped her. Sliding her body forward, she was able to turn sideways and lean her head back and offer her lips to his. His kiss, light at first, deepened into one of desire. For a moment she felt guilt rise within her, but then a miracle happened – something she never thought to know again, after the way their relationship had deteriorated. Laurent’s desire showed in the hardness of him.
Afraid to do anything, she held her breath. Laurent’s hoarse, whispering tone told her what she wanted to hear. ‘Darling, oh, my darling, I want you. I need you. I don’t know how or why, but I know that at last I can make you mine.’
Tears plopped onto his cheeks. She licked them away as she positioned herself over him and lowered herself onto her darling husband for the first time ever. Their joy didn’t require any movement. Their bodies shuddered with pleasure the moment he entered her, a pleasure that had both of them crying out in sheer ecstasy as they reached the peak of an act they had so long wished for.
When they got out of the bath, she helped Laurent to dry. He made her smile as he asked, ‘Is it still possible for us to make babies?’
Laughing, she said, ‘Possible, but not probable. I am fifty, remember! But I’m still fertile, so you never know.’
‘Would you mind very much?’
‘No, I would be ecstatic! I don’t feel fifty. Especially now – I feel like a young woman again; young and in love, and so very happy.’
Turning his chair towards the door, he said, ‘Well then, let’s go to our room, and I will show you how a Frenchman makes babies.’
‘Oh, is it different from other men, then?’
‘You will see.’
The flame she thought had been extinguished, with the single act of having him inside her, rekindled. Her mouth dried, the muscles in her groin tightened and it felt to her as if their life was just beginning. It was ironic that it should happen now. She had no idea why it had occurred, for the counselling had only served to sour Laurent’s mood until now. Maybe it was the thought of being needed again, in a role that would fulfil him – of being useful in the fight against Hitler – that had broken him free of the restraints of impotency.
As a doctor, she knew it could take something as simple as feeling like a real man again to become one, but she hadn’t known what to do to make that happen. As a woman, she felt almost grateful for the declaration of war, for no matter what it would mean in the future, for now it had given her back her husband. And she was ready; ready to get to know and accept the love-making of her darling Laurent.
Edith was startled by the shrill sound of the telephone ringing as she rested back on the pillow, every ounce of her drained by Laurent’s second passionate loving of her.
‘Leave it, darling.’
‘I can’t, I’m sorry. It m
ight be Ada calling me. She would only do so if there was an emergency. I must answer it.’
Laurent rolled over. A contented sigh showed that he wasn’t angry. As she sat up, his hand stroked her bare back, sending shivers through her. Life was, at last, on an even keel. They were a proper couple – truly man and wife, and no longer in name only. The thought thrilled her.
Ada’s voice held excitement as it crackled down the phone. ‘It’s a girl. Leah has had a girl! By, lass, Leah were as good as gold. Did all she were told to do. She remembered all the words you’d taught her that she was likely to hear, and what they meant. I’m reet proud of her. And the babby is a grand little thing, weighing in at five pounds four ounces and with lungs on her that could shout that Hitler down!’
‘Oh, that’s wonderful news. Are you sure that Leah and the baby are all right? According to my calculations she had another four weeks to go!’
‘Aye, Leah’s a bit tearful, thinking of her mam and dad, but there’s no need to worry over that, and though babby’s a bit on the small side, she’s fine. Not at all like a premature babby, so happen she’s on her due time. I’ll make sure to stay with her till Ginny gets here. I rang because I thought you’d want to know, and because Leah wants you to name the babby. It’s that Sister Frances that attended the birth, and she’s already called the priest to baptize babby. You know what these nuns are like – and Sister Frances is the holiest of them all. She heard the news about war beginning and thinks Hitler’s on his way already, and that all babbies should be christened immediately, just in case.’
Edith joined in with Ada’s laughter. ‘Oh, Ada, you’re a tonic. But I’m honoured to be asked to name our latest little one. Let me think. Oh, I know: Felicia. In France it is a name that means “great happiness”. Felicia Marianne. Yes, I think that very appropriate, and it fits how I feel right at the moment, as well as honouring someone I love very much who is also French, as Leah is.’
‘Grand. You sound happy. Different, somehow. Sommat tells me that I really shouldn’t have disturbed you. Well, I’ll not keep you. But I’ll say this: whatever has lifted you from the sadness that’s been lurking in your eyes of late, hang on to it, love, as Chamberlain’s announcement is enough to dampen us all, if we let it.’
‘Oh, we won’t do that. No little man with a silly moustache stands a chance against the forces that drive us, Ada. I just wish Hitler wouldn’t try. But you are right. I’m filled with great happiness. I won’t go into details, but I’ve heard from Elka and—’
A scream of joy cut off her words. It brought home the reality, as only sharing the news with Ada could.
‘Yes, yes, it’s true. Oh, Ada. At last. At last . . .’
‘I can’t believe it. How? Eeh, the day of doom and gloom has turned into a grand day. But I have to go; tell me all about it tomorrow. By, lass, I’m reet happy for you.’
‘Thank you, Ada. Sharing it with you has made it complete. You’ve been by my side throughout it all, and have been a source of strength and comfort to me. Give Leah my love, and little Felicia a hug from me. I’ll see you tomorrow.’
Ada’s goodbye was full of unspoken emotion. Edith stood for a moment after replacing the receiver. Tomorrow: I wonder what that will bring. Every day brings something. Today has brought happiness, as well as trepidation about what the future holds for us all.
But she wouldn’t think of all the tomorrows, or of the war. She’d go back to bed and snuggle up to her darling Laurent, and bask in the three prongs of happiness that had assailed her: hearing about Elka and Ania; the arrival of Leah’s baby; and feeling, at last, like a fulfilled and true wife to Laurent.
8
Ania
Poland, October 1939 – A City Under Siege
‘You should have gone . . . you should have gone.’
‘Hush, Babcia. We will be all right.’ But even as she said this, Ania could feel the eyes of the Nazi soldiers, who were on guard along the Vistula embankment, following their progress.
‘We’re Jews. They hate us. Even though they have only been here for three weeks, the Nazis are turning Jews out of their homes and taking possession of them for themselves. They are bound to want our block, for it is one of the most beautiful and well kept. They will kill us.’
‘No. I have heard they resettle Jews and take their businesses and homes, it’s true. But that is all – they don’t kill them. And yes, the stories about the conditions that Jews are forced to live under in other countries are horrendous, but this war won’t last; the same won’t happen here. The British and French won’t let it happen. It will all be over soon. We just have to do all that we can to survive.’ Ania’s words were brave, but she didn’t believe them. Stories of Jews being beaten with sticks and turfed out onto the streets were already circulating, and they terrified her.
‘But we don’t know what Britain is doing. No news is coming through, because it’s all cut off. Oh, Ania, I will not survive, I know it. Leave me. Please, Ania. Flee the city before it is too late.’
‘I can’t. I have to stay. Baruch has already said there will be work for me to do. The Resistance will regroup. We will fight back.’
‘But what of me?’
‘Don’t be afraid, Babcia. I won’t abandon you. But I don’t know how it will all work out. We still have to plan everything. Baruch is hoping that if I tell the Germans I was adopted and that I can speak many languages, they will consider me useful. Then I may get taken on in a job where I can have access to information that might be very valuable to the Resistance.’
‘You have told Baruch who you really are?’
‘Yes, but it seems many in the community had already expressed their opinions of me and Elka, saying that we do not look like Jews, with our golden-coloured hair; and that our features are those of Western Europeans. So Baruch had wondered for a long time if I was a true-born Polish Jewess. Come on, let’s make our way home.’
‘I didn’t know that, but that’s good. The Germans won’t recognize you instantly as a Jew. But doing what you plan will put you in great danger! How can Baruch ask this of you?’
‘It is not him asking, Babcia; it is Poland and her Jewish community. Much will be asked of us all. We have to fight back.’
Some of Ania’s tenants, all Jews, were standing in the doorway of their apartment block as they turned into Starowisina. An assortment of bags and sacks was scattered around them. Behind them and across the street stood armed soldiers, their guns pointing at the group.
‘What’s happening? Is everyone all right?’
Frightened, hollow eyes turned her way. Some of the men nodded their heads. The women wept. The children, some of whom were her pupils, looked too afraid to cry, but the shaking of their bodies told her how they felt.
‘Ruben? Joseph? What is going on?’
‘We have been told to gather our things, as we are needed for labouring jobs.’
A truck rumbled along the street towards them.
‘But what of the jobs you already have? And what of your shop, Ruben?’
A sharp pain jagged her side. A rough German voice told her to move along. Babcia’s voice screeched in protest. Ania turned towards the soldier who had dug the butt of his gun into her side, and asked him in German why he thought he could treat the Polish people in this way.
‘Du sprichst Deutsch?’
‘Ja. I speak many languages.’
In German he ordered her to tell the women and children to go back inside. ‘Tell them their men are going to work at Plaszow and will return in a week.’
‘If that is so, why are they taking so many belongings with them? And what is the nature of the work?’
The soldier cocked his gun. ‘Tu was dir gesagt wird.’
Deciding that she would be wise to do as he said and obey his orders, Ania turned to the crowd that had now gathered.
‘Inside, everyone. Your men will be home in a week’s time. Come along. Everyone keep together and we will all be all right. Have you don
e the work on your English, children?’
‘Ania!’
‘Babcia, don’t criticize me. We have to keep things normal for the children. If they see us breaking up, what do they have to cling to or look up to?’ In a louder voice she said, ‘I will expect you all in my apartment at six tonight. You older ones will have an hour working on your English papers, and you younger ones will have an hour of French conversation. Educated people will be needed, no matter what their race. Remember that.’
Her words worked. The women ushered their children inside, shouting goodbyes to their menfolk as they did so. Ania felt relief as the threatening atmosphere dispersed. But most heartening of all was seeing the children lose that look of despair, even if only temporarily. Teacher doesn’t think the men are leaving permanently, so that can’t be what’s happening – that is what she had tried to impart. For five minutes of this appalling hour, when it looked as if all their fears were becoming a reality, it seemed that she had succeeded.
But as she looked back and saw the bullying tactics the soldiers employed, as they herded the men towards the truck, she knew that the five minutes were just that, and that the world as they had known it had truly ended.
She thought of Elka and thanked God, as she had done a million times, that she had escaped to safety. Already she had received a letter from her sister. It had spoken of the beautiful South of France, of what a wonderful woman Marianne was, and of her excitement at the possibility of meeting their birth mother; and about their mother’s entire family, which was now their family, too. But none of that fitted with what Ania’s eyes and ears had to contend with at this moment.
‘Babcia, go upstairs. I will come up in a moment. I want to try and get more information about what is happening.’
‘Be careful, my dear Ania, be careful.’
Looking out into the street, Ania saw that several trucks were now full of men of around forty years of age and under. The noise, as they gathered speed driving towards the river and then turning right, shook the old buildings in the street. Dust billowed around her. Silent, sullen folk milled about. To one, a Polish butcher she knew well, she called out, ‘Do you know what is happening, Józef?’