A Different World

by Mary Nichols

  ‘No, you haven’t. Tony is – forgive me, sweetheart – dead and you are alive. You are young …’

  ‘… and I’ll get over it, that’s what my father said.’

  He was shocked by the insensitivity of the man, but did not comment. ‘No, I didn’t mean that, but you have a life to live and life without love is only half a life. It is not good.’

  ‘You too?’

  ‘Me too.’

  ‘But you don’t know, not for sure, do you?’

  ‘No, not for sure.’ He stubbed out his cigarette. ‘Are you ready to face the world again?’

  ‘Yes, I think so.’

  He stood up and held out his hand to haul her up.

  Together they walked back to the village side by side, but a little apart. He understood she could not be seen holding hands with another man so soon and, besides, she had to maintain her role as the prim and proper schoolteacher.

  He returned to duty next day, leaving a different Louise behind, one that walked with her head up and had a spring in her step again. His own emotions were in turmoil. He had not gone to Cottlesham with the intention of making love to her, but it had seemed the natural thing to do. Unlike his compatriots who took full advantage of the young ladies who adored them, he had always held back. He told himself he was a married man and faithful to Rulka, but that wasn’t the whole of it. Louise had always been in the background, growing in importance to him. He prided himself on being a man of honour; he would never have made love to her if Tony had not died or if she had resisted. Had Rulka died too? Some of his compatriots had heard positive news of their loved ones through messages being sent, along with intelligence, to the Polish government in London and it had been passed on. Some were dead, some sent to prison, some getting by as best they could in occupied Poland. When this happened he asked about Rulka but the answer was always the same: ‘No information. Sorry.’ Not knowing was the worst of it.

  The German invasion of Russia towards the end of June seemed to sound the death knell of his hopes. The British government conveniently forgot the non-aggression pact Stalin had made with Germany before they both invaded Poland and embraced the USSR as an ally, an ally who would be given all the help it needed to resist the invader. Jan viewed this new development with misgiving. It was true it would divert Hitler’s attention from the west, but it made a battleground of Poland all over again.

  The nightly terror over London and the other big cities came to a halt and the people gave a huge sigh of relief. It wasn’t the end of the war – far from that, because there was fighting in North Africa and the Mediterranean, and ships were still being lost at sea – but it gave the people of Britain, and that included the Polish airmen, a much needed breather. From defending the skies over Britain, Jan’s role changed and he found himself flying the new Spitfire and escorting bombers on their way to bomb Germany and important targets in occupied Europe, tempting German fighters out to do battle. At other times, after crossing the Channel, he would fly low, almost at treetop height, and strafe airfields, railway stations, freight trains and troops on the move with his cannon. They were taking the fight to the enemy at last.

  ‘You’re pregnant, aren’t you?’ Jenny was standing in the doorway of the bathroom, having heard Louise throwing up her breakfast.

  Louise, who had been kneeling on the floor with her head over the lavatory pan, looked up. ‘I think so.’

  ‘Only think so?’

  ‘Well, yes, I am.’

  Jenny ran some water onto a flannel and mopped Louise’s face with it. ‘It’s not Tony’s is it?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You’re an idiot, do you know that?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What are you going to do about it?’

  ‘Nothing I can do.’

  ‘Does Jan know?’

  ‘Not yet …’

  ‘Don’t you think you should tell him?’

  ‘I will. I’ll have to tell my parents too and I’m dreading that.’ She stood up and tottered back to her room, followed by Jenny. ‘I must get ready for school.’

  ‘You’re not fit for school.’

  ‘Yes I am. I’m over it now. And I’ve got to keep going as long as I can.’

  She knew as soon as her condition became known she would lose her job and if she did not have a job how could she go on living at the Pheasant? Something had to be done but she was too emotionally confused to think clearly.

  ‘Too right, you do.’

  ‘You’re not very sympathetic.’

  ‘What good’s sympathy now?’

  Louise managed a wan smile. Jenny’s abrupt manner hid a soft heart. ‘None at all.’

  ‘Take the day off and go and see your mother. A girl needs her mother at a time like this.’

  ‘I’ll go on Saturday.’

  If she hoped to catch her mother alone, her hopes were dashed. She arrived just as both parents were sitting down to lunch. Her mother jumped up to hug her. ‘How lovely to see you, dear.’

  ‘You’d better sit down,’ her father said, indicating an empty chair at the table. ‘We can probably stretch this Woolton pie to three.’

  ‘I’m not hungry.’ She was so keyed up with nerves that even the contemplation of food was liable to make her sick again.

  ‘Why not?’ her mother asked. ‘Aren’t you well? You don’t look very well. The country air is supposed to put roses in your cheeks not make you look pale. You’ve got dark rings under your eyes too.’

  ‘I’m all right. I’ve got something important to tell you.’

  ‘We’re listening,’ her father said, ladling pie onto his plate.

  ‘I’m pregnant.’

  Henry’s eyes nearly popped out of his head as he stopped what he was doing to stare at her and Faith caught her breath in a little whimper of concern.

  ‘Are we to assume you are not married and this is the product of the devil?’ he said coldly.

  ‘The devil has nothing to do with it,’ Louise said. She was calm now and would not allow him to browbeat her. ‘It is the product of love.’

  ‘Love, bah!’

  ‘You and Tony were simply carried away,’ her mother put in, trying to defuse the situation. ‘No doubt if you stay down in Cottlesham no one here will know about it and you can have it adopted.’

  ‘It will not be adopted. And Tony and I were never carried away. The baby is not his.’

  ‘What?’ Henry sprang to his feet, knocking over his chair. ‘I have begotten a whore.’ He pulled her from her chair and forced her to her knees. ‘Pray for forgiveness. Go on, pray.’

  His bony-fingered grip on her shoulder was hurting her, but she ignored it. Any sign of pain would make him worse, she knew that from experience. ‘Father, if I need forgiveness, I shall ask it privately of God, not you.’

  He turned and grabbed a thin stick that was always kept leaning against the wall in the alcove by the fire and brought it down with all his strength on her shoulders. ‘I’ll beat the evil out of you. You have always been a thorn in my side with your wilful ways. Now we are all to be punished. God knows what I have done to deserve such a daughter.’

  ‘Henry, stop! Please stop!’ Faith cried, trying to grab his arm as he continued the thrashing. He knocked her away. She fell into a chair.

  Louise, angry as much on her mother’s behalf as her own, turned suddenly, grabbed the stick and hauled herself to her feet, making him almost lose his balance. Then she took the implement of her torture and broke it across her knee. ‘You will never beat me with that again, Father.’

  ‘I am no longer your father!’ He was panting from his exertion and red in the face. ‘I renounce you. Get out of my sight. I never want to see you again.’

  ‘But Henry—’ Faith began.

  ‘And you will not see her again either. She is lost to us. We never had a daughter.’

  Louise looked at her weeping mother, but dare not go to her. She pulled the remnant of her blouse about her stinging shoulders, found he
r jacket and slipped it on. Then she left the house without looking back.

  She found a public call box and asked for the number Jan had given her. She had to wait while someone went to fetch him, then he was at the other end of the line. ‘Jan, I’m in London. Can you get away? I must see you.’

  He didn’t ask what was wrong, he simply said, ‘I’ll be with you in an hour, less if I can borrow a car. Where are you?’

  ‘I’m in Edgware but I’ll come into town to meet you.’

  ‘Go to the station hotel at Liverpool Street. I’ll meet you in the lounge.’

  Jan knew Witold had a little sports car and dashed off to find him. ‘Matter of life and death,’ he said, when Witold wanted to know what he wanted it for.

  His friend smiled. ‘A lady in distress?’

  ‘Yes. It’s urgent, She would not have called me if it wasn’t.’

  ‘You are on standby, aren’t you?’

  ‘Yes, but you can square it with Squadron Leader Krasnodebski, can’t you? Stefan will stand in for me. Tell him I’ll do two of his duties to make up for it.’

  Witold grinned and tossed him the keys ‘Mind you bring it back in one piece.’

  Jan thanked him and was gone.

  The car was a speedy little roadster and he was soon approaching the suburbs where he had to slow down. Even so, he made the journey in record time. He had no idea what Louise wanted him for, but he had known by the sound of her voice that it was important. He left the doorman to park the car and rushed into the lounge. She was sitting hunched in a corner, her whole body screwed up as if in pain. As soon as she saw him, she jumped to her feet. ‘Oh, Jan.’

  He went to embrace her and felt her flinch at his touch. She had never done that before and it puzzled him. ‘Louise, what is wrong? Not the right time for a cuddle?’

  ‘Yes, it is, but …’ She gave a sharp little cry as he put a hand on her shoulder.

  ‘Are you hurt?’ He took his hand away and noticed a dark-red stain on her jacket. ‘You have been hurt.’ He slipped the jacket off her shoulder and saw the shredded blouse. ‘Wait here.’ He dashed off and spoke to the receptionist, then he came back with a room key and took her hand. ‘Come with me.’

  ‘Now,’ he said, when they were sitting side by side on the bed. ‘Let me look.’

  ‘It’s nothing,’ she said, as he carefully took off her jacket.

  Her blouse was sticking to her raw flesh. He knew the marks of a beating when he saw them. He went into the bathroom and soaked his handkerchief, then went back to tenderly dabbing the wounds to remove the blouse. ‘Who did this to you?’

  ‘My father.’

  ‘Your father! My God, what father would do such a thing to his own child?’

  She winced as he touched her but managed a crooked smile. ‘He was trying to beat the wickedness out of me.’

  ‘Wickedness! The man is mad.’

  ‘Not mad, angry. I let him down, shamed him …’

  ‘How?’

  ‘I went with you.’

  ‘Oh.’ He paused. ‘Did you have to tell him?’

  ‘Yes, I did.’ She paused. ‘You see, I am going to have a baby. We are going to have a baby.’

  He stared at her, then his face broke into a grin. ‘Is that bad?’

  ‘From my father’s point of view, it is. He has thrown me out, said he never wants to see me again.’

  ‘I see. Were you afraid I would say the same?’

  ‘No, Jan, I know you better than that.’

  The last of the torn blouse came away. ‘You need some ointment on that. I’ll go and buy some and come back. Then we will decide what to do. I’ll buy a blouse too.’

  ‘You will need some clothing coupons.’ Painfully she reached for her handbag and handed him a sheet of coupons. Clothes had only recently been rationed and she had not used any of them yet.

  He left her to find a chemist and a shop selling blouses. He needed to come to terms with what she had told him. How did he feel? Sorry? Ashamed? Elated at the thought of being a father? Fatherhood was something he had talked to Rulka about, but somehow her work, the war and their enforced separation had put paid to their plans. He told himself he still loved Rulka, but with Louise’s news, she had slipped even further from him. And he loved Louise too.

  He hurried back to her. She was lying face down on the bed with her arms at her sides. He sat down beside her and applied the ointment with gentle fingers. ‘I ought to fetch a doctor,’ he said.

  ‘No, he’ll only ask questions and I don’t want anyone to know.’

  ‘It’s not the first time he’s beaten you, is it? There are old scars here.’

  ‘I was a wicked and wilful child.’

  He bent and kissed the nape of her neck. ‘You don’t believe that, do you?’

  ‘I tried not to be bad, but the harder I tried, the more I displeased him.’

  ‘What about your mother?’

  ‘She is afraid of him and believes very strongly in her vows to honour and obey. Sometimes she would try and stick up for me, but it didn’t do any good. If anything it made him worse. It’s a terrible thing to say, but the war helped me. I got away.’ She scrambled into a sitting position and turned to face him. ‘Now I have to manage as best I can.’

  ‘I cannot marry you, you know that, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes, I know.’

  ‘But that does not mean you have to manage alone. I will look after you.’

  ‘Oh, Jan.’ The tears she had not shed when she was being beaten, rolled down her cheeks.

  ‘Cuddle?’ he queried with a lopsided grin.

  ‘Yes please.’

  Tenderly he took her in his arms and they lay down together. She turned on her side to face him. ‘Jan,’ she said tentatively. ‘Will you mind being a father?’

  ‘Mind, my sweet? I shall love it, as I love you.’

  ‘Do you? Really? But what about your wife? What about Rulka?’

  ‘Rulka was my first love. I thought she would be the only one, until I met you. Now she has drifted away into the clouds where I cannot reach her. Just as your Tony has.’

  ‘You think she is dead?’

  ‘I don’t know. Perhaps.’ He paused, dwelling on that thought for a moment, then set it aside. ‘We must decide what we are to do.’

  ‘I shall keep my job as long as I can, but as soon as I begin to show, I’ll have to leave.’

  ‘Will you stay in Cottlesham?’

  ‘I’d like to. It depends on whether Jenny will have me and if I can afford to.’

  ‘Money is not a problem. I will make you a regular allowance, and if anything happens to me, I will make sure you and our child are provided for.’

  ‘You don’t want me to have it adopted?’

  ‘Certainly not! You do not want it either, do you?’

  ‘No, but some people might think I should.’

  ‘Then they have no heart.’ He paused. ‘Shall we stay here tonight? Tomorrow you will be better able to face your friends in Cottlesham.’

  ‘I haven’t got a toothbrush.’

  He produced two from his pocket. ‘I bought them in the chemist when I bought the ointment.’

  She laughed. ‘Oh, Jan, I do love you.’

  Chapter Six

  February 1942

  ‘I think it’s time you disappeared,’ Lech murmured. It was not a good idea to speak too loudly, even in the hospital. ‘The Gestapo are getting too close for comfort.’

  ‘I’m not leaving. I’m needed here and I’ve nowhere to go in any case.’ Rulka, never very robust, was thin as a rake, but her small frame concealed a courage and determination which would not have shamed a gladiator.

  ‘You could go to the grave,’ Lech said, looking down at the body of the girl who had just died in spite of their efforts to save her. ‘She’s about your size. I’ll sign the death certificate in your name. Then you can disappear.’

  ‘You are not serious, are you?’

  ‘Yes, I am. The Germans
have rounded up hundreds of innocent people since that ammunition train was sabotaged two days ago. Is it any wonder one of them told all she knew and the name Rulka Grabowska was mentioned? Simply trying to lie low will not be enough. The only way they’ll give up looking for you is if you are officially dead.’

  The Germans had instituted what they called ‘collective responsibility’, which meant the whole community was punished for the deeds of the few and any acts of sabotage brought on merciless reprisals which they hoped would deter the resistance. Rulka found it heartbreaking, but if they stopped their work, it meant that the occupiers had won and that could not be allowed to happen. ‘How do you know all this?’

  ‘I know someone on the inside. I won’t tell you his name …’

  ‘No, don’t.’ She knew Lech was allowed into the Pawiak prison to treat the prisoners, not that there was much he could do for them, but no doubt his information had come from someone there.

  ‘You haven’t any family to mourn you, have you?’

  Rulka looked down at the girl in the hospital bed. She was no more than skin and bone. Brought into the hospital with pneumonia, her emaciated body had had no resistance and she had soon succumbed. ‘No,’ she said. ‘Except Jan. When he comes back, it is to Warsaw he will come. I must be here so that he can find me.’

  ‘Do you even know if he is alive?’

  ‘No, I don’t. How could I? But until I am certain he will never come back, I will continue to wait for him.’ She had not heard from Jan since that brief letter sent from Romania told her he was going to France. Whether he arrived there, she did not know or whether, having arrived, he had been rounded up by the Germans when France fell or managed to escape, she had no idea. She liked to picture him, free and happy, flying aeroplanes, and like her, doing his bit to win the war so they could be reunited. It was that hope and her gritty determination not to admit defeat that kept her going.

  Lech sighed. ‘You have to face facts, Rulka, and the facts are that life will never be the same as it was before the war, even if the Allies win, which is looking more and more unlikely. Save your own skin, no one else will.’

  ‘My skin is not important, the fight for freedom is.’