by Mary Wood
‘He did, Lizzie, love. He opened the conversation with you, asking how you were and did I think it right he should take you for a drive. Eeh, lass, he’s got it bad for you, I can tell. Then at the end of his conversation he said, “Give Lizzie my love and tell her it might be a bit later, but we will go hunting for that restaurant.”’
‘What’s that all about, hunting for a restaurant?’
Lizzie explained that she thought Jacques was worried about her being able to get into it, ‘though he didn’t say that. He just said he wanted it to be my choice.’
‘Aye, you’re reet there, Lizzie, that is what he was concerned over, which shows he’s an alright kind of person, not embarrassing you. Anyroad, when he told me this, I was able to help him out. There’s a new place opened. It’s on the outskirts of Leeds and used to be an old farmhouse. It’s a grand place. It’s all on one level, and there’s no steps to get into it. Anyroad, Dad has a surprise for you that will help you access most places.’
‘Oh, Lizzie. I can’t believe it, you and me brother . . . You jumped in there quick!’
None of them took her up on this other than to laugh at what she’d said, and this pleased Patsy, as it meant they weren’t looking for a double meaning in her. They both believed she’d changed, and with these two already on her side she could succeed in doing so.
‘Anyway, me lasses, if you would be kind enough to make your way out into the lounge, Dad is waiting with his surprise. Oh, and by the way, Patsy, I surprised him as well. I told him and Mam that I want to go to medical school.’
‘Oh, Ian . . .’
‘What? You sound like I’ve done the wrong thing. They were really happy about it. Dad couldn’t get over it and Mam cried. I’m really glad I told them, so stop worrying.’
‘No, it’s not . . . Oh, I don’t know. Look, I’m really glad. Dad’ll soon get you sorted. it’ll be great, You’ll love it. You’ll find it easy, I’ll bet, just like Harri.’
He left at this, telling them to hurry up and get sorted.
‘Patsy?’
‘What?’
‘You know what. Yer don’t want Ian to go, do yer?’
‘I didn’t know that I didn’t. But now it looks like he might, it feels like a light would go out for me. I can’t explain it. Oh, I’m being daft. Come on. Let me help you . . . Oh, I know. You can manage. Well, knowing you can doesn’t mean you always have to. I can get you a bowl for your wash while you get out what you want to wear. Though you haven’t got much, have you? How about I fetch a few things down that I’ve finished with, then before this dinner date, I’ll take you shopping. Though Ian will have to drive us as I’m not up to that yet. I’m still a bit shaky.’
‘But, I haven’t any money.’
‘It’ll be my treat. No buts! I’d love to treat you. I owe you. You’ve brought something into me life you can’t imagine and I can’t put a name to, but it made me see meself and me life in a different light – and that’s helped me more than you can know. Besides, we all need a helping hand sometimes. I know I did when I came into this family. And what they gave me is something else I can’t put me finger on. Maybe it’s called love, unconditional and generous love, and I just didn’t know how to recognize it or how to handle it.’
‘Okay, thanks, Patsy. See, I told yer it was a good day when I met yer. It can’t have been a bad one if I’m to get a new frock out of it.’
They both giggled at this, then Patsy said, ‘While we get you ready will you tell me about what it is you’ve read?’
Patsy found that her body was trembling by the time Lizzie had told her of what her mother had been through and the death of Pierre. Lizzie was ready now, but neither of them made a move to leave the room.
‘It’s not all bad, Patsy, love. I don’t know how yet, but yer mother did escape, and it must be nice for yer to know she and Pierre were planning a family life that included you, and that Pierre was going to take yer on as his own.’
‘It is, Lizzie, love, but at the same time it sort of twists the knife. I wish I’d have known this. I would have found my mother sooner, and all of me family. It couldn’t have been that difficult to do. Jacques did it.’
‘Yes, but he had someone who knew who he was and who his father and mother were. You had no idea, so where would yer have started?’
‘That’s right, but after I did know . . . Oh, Lizzie, they say that hate is destructive. It nearly destroyed me and it stopped me from moving on.’
Ian called out from behind the closed door at that moment. ‘I’m coming in, ready or not! We’re all bursting out here to show Lizzie what Dad has got. Anyway, if you don’t hurry, Jacques will be here and then it will be too late for Dad to have his moment. So hurry up. Do you hear me, Patsy?’
In a low voice she said, ‘Olivia. I’m not Patsy, I’m Olivia.’
Lizzie didn’t comment.
The new wheelchair had them all laughing and the women shedding tears, but it was with joy more than sadness. Richard had, through his many contacts, located a chair that a family had had made for their daughter. Sadly the girl had since died, but the family had said it would make them happy to think of the chair being used and helping someone else to get around as it had done their daughter.
Lizzie was like a child with a new toy, Patsy thought, as she watched her. The tears, always ready to flow, were trickling down her cheeks.
The slimline chair was light and had large wheels at the back that enabled Lizzie to push herself around. It glided with very little effort, even with Lizzie’s weak pushes. It folded small enough to go into the boot of a car, and it was on crossed bars that could be fixed into a high or low position. Much the same as you could a deck chair, but these enabled the seat to be set as high as she would need to sit up at a table. The leather of the seat and back was the softest Patsy had ever felt.
It was Lizzie’s happiness that was getting to her. It was lovely to see her smiling and the look of sheer joy on her face. But when Sarah said, ‘Eeh, love, we’ll all be able to take you for walks in that, no problem,’ Lizzie’s expression changed. It was only for a moment, but Patsy saw it and knew all of the others had too.
Richard, as usual, saved the day. ‘That will be nice sometimes, but I have something else I am looking into, something that will allow Lizzie to come and go as she pleases. Have you seen or heard about a three-wheeler invalid car, Lizzie?’
‘Yes. Ken . . . me brother Ken, he was trying to get me one.’
‘Well, did he know that the government supply them? Yes, it’s a fact. I’ve found out all about it. And I have asked for an application form to be sent here. Once that goes in, someone comes out to assess you and then, if that goes okay, you get your car. I don’t think they are driven like a normal car. They have a two-stroke engine and there’s a rudder that steers it. The accelerator and brake are attached to the rudder, so you do everything with your hands. Don’t look so worried, we’ll get the hang of it between us. It just means you’ll have to manage with our help for now. But it won’t be long before you’re nipping down to the shops on your own.’
Lizzie’s face was a picture of happiness. Patsy couldn’t help herself but to go over to her and give her a hug. This prompted them all to do the same. And set her and Mam and Lizzie herself off crying again.
‘Eeh, you lasses. You can turn the taps on!’
This from Ian, Patsy knew, was just to cover his own feelings and stop himself from shedding a tear. She smiled over at him. His smile back warmed her heart.
The door opened and David came in saying, ‘What’s going on here, then? You all look like you’re up to sommat.’ When they told him, he said, ‘By, it’s not as if it’s a new tractor or owt. I don’t know what all the fuss is about.’ They doubled over with laughter.
David smiled at his own joke and went over to Lizzie. ‘I’m glad for you, lass. We haven’t had much time to get to know one another, but it’s a busy time on the fields and we’re a man down with this brother of mine fin
ding more important things to do. Not that our Patsy isn’t important, but by, he don’t need much of an excuse to skive! But once we’ve it all sorted, We’ll have a chat. I’m not ignoring you.’
With this he went into the kitchen.
‘Well, that was some speech for David, love. You’re honoured! Reet, let’s get some order in here. Ian, will you help Dad to get Lizzie’s old chair into the garage till she needs it next. You won’t need it in the house, will you, love?’
‘No, Sarah, I won’t need it, and I can’t see me wanting to get out of this one much at all. I could even take it out in the garden. Oh, it’s lovely, Richard. Thank you. Thank you so much.’
The doorbell ringing stopped them all in their tracks.
‘Oh, God, that’ll be Jacques!’
‘It’s alright, Patsy, love.’ Sarah came over to her as she said this, a worried expression on her face.
‘I’m okay, Mam. It’s just excitement, not fear. Ooh, I don’t know what to do or how to act.’
Ian winked at her as he said, ‘It’ll come natural, love.’ Then taking charge, he asked his dad to get David’s help with the wheelchair, telling him, ‘I’ve promised to stay with Patsy while she meets her brother. Come on, Patsy, love, you go into the front room and I’ll bring Jacques in there to you. Alright, love?’
She could only nod and do as he said. Her heart raced, thumping against her ribs making it hard for her to breathe. Her brother . . . she was going to meet her own brother!
Jacques didn’t look anything like her, but then she knew that by how Lizzie had described him. But as he came through the door it was as if she’d known him all her life instead of not knowing of his existence until a few weeks ago. He stood a moment looking at her, then as if someone had given them a cue, they went into each other’s arms.
Swinging her around then leaning back from her he said, ‘Gee, my own big sis! And a pretty one at that. Boy, am I going to make them jealous back home when I show you off!’
She laughed. ‘And a handsome little brother for me! That’s something I never dreamed of having.’ He hugged her again, but this time he made her wince. ‘Oh, I’m sorry, Patsy, I forgot. You’ve been hurt. I – I . . .’ His eyes filled with concern. ‘Lizzie told me. And I’m so sorry. Not just for hurting you just now, but that it ever happened.’
‘It’s okay. I’m getting better. Just a bit sore. And as for healing from the experience, I know it will take time, but such a lot of good things have happened since then that it doesn’t feel like it will take long. By the way, this is Ian. He is Sarah’s eldest son.’
She watched Jacques as he greeted Ian. He was every bit as handsome as Lizzie had said, and nice too. She already knew she loved him, but she would have liked to have seen just a little of herself in him – something that tied her to him and to their mother. It seemed uncanny that she should look totally like her father’s side and have nothing of her mother in her.
‘Why don’t you two sit down and have a good chat, eh? I’ll leave you to get to know each other. you’ve a lot to catch up on.’
‘Thanks, Ian.’ Again that smile. What was different about it? Ian had always smiled at her. Maybe she’d never properly taken any notice before. What’s the matter with me? It’s just Ian. Ian, for Christ’s sake!
‘Hum, so big sis is in love, eh?’
‘No! I mean . . .’
‘It’s none of my business? Well, you have to get used to it. As your brother, I am going to want to be the first to know what you’re up to.’
This made her laugh, and with it came a feeling that relaxed everything inside her. It was going to be so easy to have Jacques in her life. She just hoped it would be this easy with her mother and her grandmother.
Thirty-three
Theresa’s Liberation, 1945
MY LIBERATION. Theresa had headed most new chapters in the book, and under this one she had added: AND MY DESOLATION.
This seemed so sad to Lizzie. At a time when most were rejoicing, the woman who had done so much and had risked her life to save countless others felt nothing but desolation. Lizzie almost didn’t want to read about it, and hesitated in doing so. But if she was to complete this journey with Theresa, she had to. And she had to do it as soon as she could, as the time was approaching when the books should be given back to their rightful owner.
It had felt strange for Lizzie to know that Jacques was in the house – to have him just the other side of a wall and not to be able to go to him. But she had to give him and Patsy time together, and she hoped with all her heart that they bonded. Ian had said their first meeting had gone really well and they’d greeted each other as if they’d known one another all their lives. She was glad about that.
Getting back to her own room had proved an easy task, and now she was in the garden with her book. No one could have walked easier than she had manoeuvred her new chair. It gave her a new sense of freedom that she loved.
As she opened the book, she couldn’t believe that she would soon be meeting Theresa, as surely she must with her being Patsy’s mum. With this thought she began to read.
April 1945
Rumours were rife around the women’s quarters. ‘The Americans are coming’ was the one that excited Theresa. And then she heard that the SS Commandant, Martin Gottfried Weiss, had run off.
Fear entered her at this. What would happen? Would the Germans panic and start to shoot them all? But no, there was a kind of calm. The guards were all still armed, but they weren’t showing signs of panic, only nerves. Their eyes often darted towards the gate. Cigarette smoke billowed like clouds from wherever they gathered. Them gathering at all was something she hadn’t seen in such numbers. Odd groups, yes, as they went off duty, but not those on duty.
Her own jailer, Frau Hitler as they had nicknamed her, had left days ago. Since then, she and the other women had done their best to keep a low profile, thinking their best chance of surviving what must be the last days of the camp’s existence would be not to be noticed. This was something they were adept at, as they were always trying to avoid the lustful eyes of the guards. Rape was rife. It had happened to her a dozen times. Always from the back. The Germans didn’t have any taste for looking into their victim’s eyes or toothless mouths, and nor did they want to see the gaunt look of starvation. They only wanted relief of their animal instincts. She had stopped fighting them, dutifully washing herself as they directed and bending over the table. There was always a table in the room that they took her to. Resisting only ended in a beating, and none of the women’s bodies could take that. She knew hers couldn’t. But worse than that, they faced being shot if they fought or complained.
Why this hadn’t happened to her anyway, she had no idea. Had they forgotten her? The last couple of months she hadn’t been returned to her original cell, but had slept in the long dormitory. Beds were narrow openings in what looked like shelves along both walls. She’d become used to the grime and the thin mattress, but never the cold. Nor the moaning of other women as they endured excruciating pain from torture or, their worst enemy, starvation. When they had been fed it was usually only a bowl of gruel. Some days they’d had nothing. She could pull the empty skin away from her bones.
No one had put them to work for the last couple of days. They had sat around in huddles, trying to keep warm. They were in one now, but one of them was missing. Of no one in particular she asked, ‘Where’s Betty? Has anyone seen her?’
No one answered her. At times the women only cared about their own survival. She understood this and had experienced these times herself.
Betty was one that often looked out for her, but she’d feared for her lately. Her cough had worsened, and there had been blood around her mouth this morning. Getting up, she made her way back to the dormitory. Keeping her back close to the walls of the hut and not making any sudden movements enabled her to get there unnoticed. ‘Betty. Betty, love, are you in here?’
The silence closed in on her, shuddering its implications thr
ough her and causing her blood to chill. When she came up to Betty’s bed, her worst fears were confirmed. Stroking the hair of Betty’s corpse, she said, ‘Rest in peace, love. You are free now. The freedom we are all hoping for wouldn’t have been what you would have wanted.’
Betty had nothing to live for. All her family had gone, taken one by one on the walk that was a daily occurrence, when people were taken from their beds or working party and never seen again. Betty had collaborated, allowing any German to fuck her when and where they wanted to. Whether this had saved her there was no knowing, but, God, she hoped that her tormentors had caught the syphilis she was sure had killed Betty.
Gunfire had her standing stiff and still. Have they arrived? Telling herself to keep calm, she walked out of the shed to what looked like a carnival. Prisoners were everywhere waving the flags she knew some had been secretly making. They were on rooftops, up trees, and dancing around wherever there was a spare space.
More gunfire. Peeping around the corner, carnage met her eyes. Germans were being gunned down by American soldiers. They weren’t fighting back, just dying – their bodies falling like skittles hit by a ball. Bile came into her throat as she saw some of the more able-bodied prisoners rush at the unarmed soldiers and begin to slay them with their bare hands, or slashing at them with shovels. Some had even got hold of the Germans’ weapons and were helping the Americans to shoot them! God! This wasn’t right! Yes, she felt like killing the soldiers herself, but they had laid down their arms. They had surrendered!
Turning her head away, she pressed her body even closer to the wall, but her legs wouldn’t hold her. She slid to the ground. Tears wet her face. Her parched throat rasped with every sob that racked her body. Then the shooting stopped and the Americans began to round everybody up. ‘Okay, we want y’all to settle down. Sit where you are and don’t move.’ The voice boomed through a megaphone, ‘Y’are all safe now. Keep still and let us do our job. Once we have all the Germans in custody, we’ll do everything we can for you.’