A Band of Steel

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A Band of Steel Page 3

by Rosie Goodwin


  ‘I think you will find that is the local dialect,’ her mother informed her with a grin. ‘And if we are to live here I am sure we shall get to hear a great deal of it in the future.’ She then turned to continue sweeping the yard as Ariel shrugged and disappeared off back indoors.

  Ezra and Dovi had been gone since early morning in search of essentials for their new home. First on the list were beds and mattresses and a settee for the small lounge behind the shop. They had also been told to look out for a secondhand sewing machine so that Freyde could make new curtains. Sadly, they had been forced to sell the one they had purchased in London since it was too heavy to carry. Now as Freyde glanced towards the house she felt a little overwhelmed at the amount of work that needed doing. She was determined to get the living quarters clean first, and then they would have to think about restocking the shop, ready for it to open – which would be no easy task, with rationing in place.

  Adina was inside attacking the cooker again, since it had turned out to be even filthier than Freyde had first thought in daylight. Still, it seemed to be in working order, so that was one blessing at least. Shivering, Freyde entered the kitchen and Adina looked up to smile at her. Freyde then filled a bowl with water and vinegar and began to scrub the windows, and shortly afterwards, Ezra and Dovi staggered in carrying a sturdy brass bedstead.

  ‘I thought this would be good for our bedroom.’ Ezra informed his wife. Drying her hands on her apron, Freyde beamed. There were a few minor dents in it and it needed a good polish, but otherwise it looked to be a good solid bed. ‘I managed to get beds for the children too, and mattresses.’ Ezra was feeling pleased with himself. ‘There is an excellent secondhand shop just down the road. They even have a Singer sewing machine there so I’ve bought that too, but I haven’t managed to find us a settee as yet.’

  Freyde had already scrubbed the bedrooms, and now as Ezra and Dovi lugged their prize up the stairs she sighed with satisfaction. At least they would all sleep comfortably tonight.

  By teatime the house looked a lot more habitable although they still had no curtains to hang at the windows.

  ‘I shall go into town and try to get some material tomorrow,’ Freyde declared as she straightened the counterpane on Ariel’s bed. The little girl and Adina would be sharing a room and Dovi would be sleeping in the small box room that overlooked the yard.

  Ezra had filled the coal house and now, with a fire blazing in the grate and the room shining, the place looked warm and cosy even if it was still a little bare.

  Freyde had cooked them a chicken, which Ezra had managed to buy from a gentleman who kept fowl, and that evening they all sat cross-legged in front of the fire, tired but content with their day’s work.

  The following day, Freyde white-washed the walls whilst Ezra went in search of a settee and some chairs, then after lunch she tidied herself up and she, Adina and Ariel went into town to purchase curtain material. By lucky chance, there was a market on in the town centre, and although the choice was sorely limited, she arrived home a few hours later with enough black-out material to cover all the windows.

  The first things she saw when she entered the kitchen were two wing chairs on either side of the fireplace and a rather overstuffed settee. It was nothing like the quality of the furniture she had owned in Germany but even so it looked reasonably clean and comfortable, and suddenly the place was beginning to look more like a home.

  In less than a week, Freyde had the whole place glistening from top to bottom and Mrs Haynes, her neighbour, could not fail but to be impressed. She had called around with a pot of her homemade jam as a house-welcoming present and when she stepped into the kitchen she was shocked at the transformation.

  ‘My God, you’ve worked hard,’ she declared, thinking of her own rather untidy kitchen next door. ‘I’d never ’ave believed you could have got so much done in such a short time.’

  ‘It is surprising what you can do when you set your mind to it,’ Freyde told her with a twinkle in her eye. ‘Now, would you like a cup of tea?’

  She had been told that the English loved their tea. She herself much preferred coffee, but as it was in very short supply she supposed she would have to develop a taste for tea instead.

  ‘I wouldn’t say no, luv.’ Mrs Haynes perched her considerable bottom on one of the chairs Ezra had purchased to go around the table as Freyde hurried away to put the kettle on.

  ‘I dare say you’ll be lookin’ to get the little ’un into school, won’t you?’ the woman asked as Freyde carefully measured three spoonfuls of tea into a heavy brown teapot.

  ‘Yes, and as soon as possible. Would you be able to recommend one?’

  ‘Well, the nearest one is just around the corner,’ Mrs Haynes told her obligingly. ‘I could show you where it is, if you like, an’ I’d recommend it. All my brood went there an’ you shouldn’t have any trouble gettin’ her in. Some o’ the kids from hereabouts have been evacuated, so it’s half-empty at present.’

  ‘That would be very helpful. Thank you.’ Freyde poured the boiling water over the tea leaves and after giving them a stir she placed the tea cosy on the pot and left it to mash while she prepared the cups.

  It was as they were drinking that Dovi appeared wheeling a borrowed trolley on which was a chest of drawers that he had found in yet another secondhand shop. Their neighbour looked at him approvingly, thinking what a handsome young man he was.

  ‘Ooh, he’ll have the girls ’ereabouts fallin’ at his feet.’ Mrs Haynes chuckled at the shocked look on Freyde’s face.

  ‘I sincerely hope not unless they are Jewish girls,’ Freyde retorted primly.

  Placing her cup on its saucer, Mrs Haynes said solemnly, ‘I reckon you’ll find there’s a shortage o’ them round here. An’ you know the sayin’, luv – when in Rome, do as the Romans do.’

  Understanding her meaning, Freyde blushed hotly. She supposed the woman was right. There was not even a synagogue in the area as far as she knew, so they would have to practise their faith as best they could.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she muttered. ‘I was not trying to imply that English girls are not good enough for my son.’

  Mrs Haynes smiled goodnaturedly. ‘No offence taken. I realise that everythin’ must seem strange to you, comin’ to a new country an’ all that. But I dare say you’ll be safer ’ere than you would have been back home, wi’ the way things are goin’.’

  ‘There is no doubt about that,’ Freyde agreed. Her thoughts turned to Ezra’s parents and she prayed that they were safe.

  That night, when the children had retired to bed, Ezra sat in the wing chair that he had adopted at the side of the fireplace, reading the newspaper.

  ‘They have begun to call up young British men between the ages of twenty and twenty-seven,’ he told Freyde. ‘It states that by the end of this month, two million of them will be gone to fight for their country.’

  Freyde looked up from the sock she was darning. She desperately missed their home in Cologne and had suffered agonies of guilt about leaving Ezra’s parents behind, but now more than ever she realised that Ezra had done the right thing by getting them away.

  ‘Then may God go with them.’

  They both bowed their heads in prayer and fell silent.

  The following day, Freyde enrolled Ariel in the school that Mrs Haynes had recommended in Coton and it was decided that she would start there the following Monday.

  On the way home, Ariel was distraught. ‘I don’t want to go to school,’ she whined.

  Freyde laughed as she held fast to her hand. ‘But why not, bubbeleh?’

  ‘Because all the children there speak English all the time.’

  ‘But of course they do! They are English, and you can speak the language as well as they can – in fact, you have been doing so since we arrived in England,’ Freyde patiently pointed out. In that moment she realised that she would have to speak to Ezra that very evening. Since coming to England they had sometimes lapsed into their native tongu
e when they were alone, but now she knew that they must adopt English as their first language at all times if they were to be accepted by the townspeople.

  Ariel sulked but said no more on the subject as they hurried on their way.

  Adina was stitching a new skirt for herself with scraps of material left over from the curtains when they arrived home, and she smiled brightly as her sister entered the cosy kitchen.

  ‘So, how was your new school?’ she asked.

  Ariel scowled as Freyde hung her coat up and gave her eldest daughter a warning look.

  ‘Ariel is feeling a little nervous about starting there, which is to be expected,’ she said, hoping to sound positive. ‘But I’m sure she will be happy there when she has made some new friends.’

  ‘Of course you will,’ Adina agreed, keeping her smile firmly fixed in place as she looked at her younger sister. ‘So when will you start there?’

  ‘On Monday,’ Ariel muttered peevishly.

  ‘Good, then in the meantime you can come through to the shop with me and help me white-wash the walls.’ Adina took her foot from the treadle of the Singer sewing machine and grinned. She knew how much Ariel liked to be involved with what they were doing and hoped to take her mind off things.

  Sure enough, in no time at all, the little girl was her usual cheery self as she splashed white-wash haphazardly on the walls and chattered away fifteen to the dozen.

  ‘Papa and Dovi have gone for some wood to make the new shelves,’ she told Adina. ‘And Papa is going to keep a shelf just for sweets. Great big glass jars full of them . . . if he can get them.’ Suddenly pausing, she asked unhappily, ‘Adina, when can we go home?’

  ‘We are home, little one,’ Adina said softly, and then they both continued with what they were doing as their thoughts drifted back to how things had once been.

  Later that afternoon, Adina decided to take a stroll. Since moving in she had barely left the house but now she felt the need for some fresh air.

  ‘Must you go?’ Freyde asked. The sky was leaden and grey, and she suspected that it might snow. It was certainly cold enough.

  ‘I shan’t go far,’ Adina promised as she slipped her arms into her warm coat and wrapped a scarf about her neck. ‘I’d just like to get to know my way about a little.’

  ‘Very well, but be careful,’ Freyde warned.

  At the end of the road, Adina turned right and walked beneath the Coton Arches; within seconds she came to Chilvers Coton parish church. It looked so pretty that she found herself walking through the churchyard admiring the beautiful stained-glass windows. She paused at the big wooden doors and then, taking a deep breath, she stepped inside and allowed her eyes to adjust to the gloomy interior. She had never been inside a church before. The ceiling was high and carved pews were spaced all along the length of it on either side of a long aisle. On the altar was a large brass cross and a bowl of flowers, and it was as she stood there thinking how peaceful it was that she suddenly became aware of someone standing behind her.

  Whirling about, she came face to face with a man dressed in long vestments.

  ‘I . . . I am so sorry,’ she mumbled. ‘I was just curious and wanted to see what it was like inside.’

  ‘Please don’t apologise,’ the kindly priest told her. ‘The house of God is always open to everyone.’

  ‘I usually pray in a synagogue,’ she told him, her eyes solemn, but he merely shrugged.

  ‘A church, a synagogue – what does it matter? We still worship the same God and you are welcome here any time.’

  Adina relaxed a little. What the man said made sense, although she wondered if her father would see it that way. He still tried to keep their faith alive and they had celebrated Chanukah as best they could.

  ‘Have you just moved into the area?’ he asked now, noting her accent.

  Adina nodded. ‘Yes. My father is renting a shop in Edmund Street but it isn’t open yet. We’ve been too busy getting the living quarters up to my mother’s standards.’

  ‘All in good time. I’m sure that you will be ready to open the shop soon.’

  Edging towards the door, Adina smiled nervously. ‘Goodbye then.’

  ‘Goodbye, and don’t forget, you are always welcome.’

  Back in the biting cold again, she wandered about the Pingles Fields for half an hour before heading back the way she had come. Despite the fact that she had put a brave face on since coming to Nuneaton, she too missed her real home and wondered how long it would be before she could return to it.

  Chapter Three

  On 9 April 1940 the Nazis invaded Norway and Denmark, and a month later they took the Lowlands and Holland. Ezra bought newspapers daily and read of Hitler’s conquests with fear in his heart. By then the shop was as fully stocked as he could make it and he had opened its doors – but it was not doing well. The people of the town were friendly enough when they met the family in the street, but seemed to be avoiding using the shop. Ezra was gravely concerned. He knew that his savings could not last for ever and wondered what he should do to encourage people to come into the shop, which he had named ‘Coton General Store’. He knew he must avoid using the word ‘Schwartz’, unfortunately, because of its German origins.

  Freyde had become quite friendly with her new neighbour, Mrs Haynes, to the point that she and the family were now allowed to use the woman’s Anderson shelter, should the need arise. And the need was arising more and more of late, which was terrifying for the townspeople. Coventry was the main target for the Germans because of the many industrial factories there, but Nuneaton had not gone unnoticed.

  Now as Ezra laid his newspaper aside he sighed and looked towards his wife who was chopping vegetables on the kitchen table. She smiled at him, knowing how worried he was. There had been no word from his parents in Cologne for months now and they were beginning to fear the worst. The door leading into the shop was open but the bell heralding a customer’s arrival remained stubbornly silent.

  Ariel was at school and Adina was sewing at the side of the fire.

  ‘I’ll go and fetch Ariel home for her lunch, if you like,’ she offered.

  ‘That would be wonderful, bubbeleh, thank you,’ her mother said gratefully.

  Laying her sewing aside, the girl rose and put on her coat. A thick fog hung over the yard and it was bitterly cold.

  ‘I just hope your sister will settle soon,’ Freyde fretted as she scraped the chopped vegetables into a saucepan and set it on the cooker.

  ‘Of course she will’ Adina told her, with a conviction that she was far from feeling. ‘She just needs a little longer to make some friends.’ She set off then with her coat collar turned up about her ears. It was only a short distance to the school, and once she reached the railings that surrounded it she stuck her hands into her coat pockets and stamped her feet to keep warm until the school bell rang.

  Seconds later, children began to pour out of the doors closely watched by a teacher who was trying to keep them in some sort of order. When she spotted Adina she crossed the playground to her and said, ‘It’s Adina, isn’t it? Ariel speaks of you often.’ She held out her hand and shook Adina’s as she introduced herself. ‘I am Miss Millington and I was wondering if I might have a word with you when it is convenient?’

  ‘Of course,’ Adina spluttered, slightly taken aback. She wondered if Ariel was in some sort of trouble, in which case her mother should be told. ‘Shall I come in to see you when I bring Ariel back to school after lunch?’

  ‘That would be ideal,’ the woman beamed, and turning, she hurried back into the school.

  Minutes later, Ariel appeared with her head down.

  ‘So what’s wrong with you?’ Adina teased as she took her hand.

  Ariel kicked at a stone. ‘I don’t like it here. I want to go home and back to my old school.’

  ‘I know you do. We would all like to go home but it wouldn’t be safe for us,’ Adina pointed out. ‘As soon as you make some friends you will be happier, but you’ll
never make friends if you don’t try.’

  ‘I do try,’ Ariel retorted pettishly, ‘but the other children make fun of the way that I speak. The only people who don’t are the ones that are Jewish like me, and they can only speak in German.’

  Not quite knowing how to answer, her sister hauled her along as she wondered why the teacher would wish to speak to her.

  After lunch, she tidied Ariel’s plaits and took her back to school, to find the teacher waiting for her on the steps.

  ‘Come into my office,’ she invited, and after hastily kissing Ariel, Adina followed her down a long corridor to a small office, noting as they went that Miss Millington was quite attractive. Adina thought that she looked to be in her late twenties to early thirties; she had short fair hair and was slim and graceful. She also noticed that there was a small diamond ring on the third finger of her left hand.

  When they reached the office and Adina was seated the teacher began, ‘As I am sure you will be aware, we have a number of German-Jewish children here and they are struggling with the language. I have been very impressed by your sister’s use of English and wondered . . . I know this is a great imposition, but I wondered if you would be prepared to come into the school on certain days and help the Jewish evacuees with their English? If your parents have no objection, of course! I couldn’t pay you a great deal, unfortunately, but I really feel that if they could master the basics of our language they would be much happier here.’

  ‘I would love to,’ Adina replied without hesitation. She had become increasingly bored now that the work on the house and the shop was finished, and she was sure that her parents would approve of the idea. She skipped home; excited at the prospect of doing something useful. She had just turned the corner of Edmund Street when she saw Dovi walking a short way ahead of her. His head was down and his hands were thrust deep in his pockets. All in all, he looked the picture of misery.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Adina asked when she caught up with him.

  ‘There is nothing wrong exactly,’ he replied, ‘it’s just that I feel so useless now. While I was helping Papa to put the house and the shop to rights I felt as if I was doing something worthwhile, but now . . .’ His voice trailed away.

 

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