As my uncle hadn’t said one nice word to either me or Božena since we had arrived, I decided he wasn’t at all pleased to see me. I remembered Frederika’s whispers to her mother that night before I left so I sat quietly on a seat next to Aunt Zuzia, feeling the springs poke into me whenever the carriage bounced over a rut in the road.
The horses turned into Kolejowa Street. We came to a stop outside one of the tall stone houses and Uncle Julek helped us all down from the carriage, me last. As we waited for my uncle to pay the driver I looked around me at the wide road and the apartment blocks, and wondered which one was Aunt Zuzia’s, and then I looked again at the house in front of which we were standing. The ground-floor window of Number 2 was filled with books.
‘A bookshop,’ I exclaimed happily. ‘I’ve never seen one before. Does it cost a lot of money to buy books?’
‘It’s not a bookshop,’ Aunt Zuzia said. ‘It’s a library.’
‘A library, what’s that?’ I asked. I had never heard of a library before.
‘You can’t buy books there,’ my aunt explained, ‘but you can borrow the books, one at a time, and take them home to read. Then, when you have finished, you take it back and borrow another one.’
I stood there amazed. ‘Will I be able to do that?’
‘Yes, when you learn to read,’ my aunt answered as she reached for my hand.
‘But I can read. I’ve read ever so many books. I love reading more than anything else in the world. Can I borrow one now?’
‘You can read?’ My aunt seemed surprised, just like Božena had been. ‘They’re closed today, it’s Sunday. But tomorrow, if you like, we will make arrangements for you to join so you can borrow books.’
I felt as if I would burst with joy. Frederika was right. I was going to love it here.
Chapter Thirteen
April 1944. 2, Kolejowa Street, Przemyśl
Uncle Julek and Aunt Zuzia’s apartment was on the third floor of Number 2, Kolejowa Street. They grumbled that the lift wasn’t working and we had to climb hundreds of stone stairs to their apartment. We were all out of breath by the time we reached the third floor.
Aunt Zuzia unlocked the front door.
‘Here we are,’ she said. ‘Come in, come in.’
We crowded into the small dark hallway and took off our coats. On the left of the front door was the kitchen, a warm room filled with the smell of cooking. Through the open door I could see that it was small but large enough to hold a stove, a small table with several chairs and a sink. I went inside and stood on tiptoe to peep out through the one small window. It looked out of the front of the building and down onto the street below. Next to the kitchen was another room filled with a number of stiff leather chairs. It smelt musty as if no one had been in there for a long time. In the middle of the room there was a high leather couch without a back or sides. Against the window was a large desk covered in untidy piles of paper.
And there were books here too! The shelves round the walls were all filled with books. I ran across and gently pulled some off the shelf to look at them but many were written in a language I couldn’t read. I felt disappointed and returned those to their little holes.
‘This is Julek’s room,’ Aunt Zuzia explained. ‘He uses it to see his patients now that he doesn’t have a surgery.’
‘Is he still able to see patients?’ Božena asked.
‘Officially no. It’s a long story . . .’
At the word story my ears pricked up. I pretended to look through Uncle Julek’s books that I could read but listened carefully to what Aunt Zuzia was saying.
‘. . . but after the Nazis arrived and life became extremely difficult for the Jews, he and a couple of colleagues formed a committee to liaise with the Gestapo. I was worried because I thought that if he was to draw attention to himself he would be one of the first to be taken away. But there’s no telling Julek, he will do what he wants.’
A loud harrumphing noise came from the doorway and we turned to see Uncle Julek standing there.
‘I’m sure they don’t want to be bored by all of that,’ he said. ‘Zuzia, I think our guests would like some tea.’
‘Of course,’ Aunt Zuzia said. ‘Renata, why don’t you come and help me.’
‘But you are still able to practise?’ Božena asked again, once we were all seated round the kitchen table.
‘We had to disappear,’ Uncle Julek said. ‘When things in the ghetto came to a head, we knew it was only a matter of time before we were taken too. We left everything behind and a close friend of ours moved into our apartment and lived there. He looked after everything for us as best he could. Not much left by then of course.’
‘Where did you go?’ Božena asked.
‘Into the country,’ Uncle Julek replied, ‘here and there, to and fro, until we were given new papers, a new identity and we returned. Not to our apartment of course but we found this one, much smaller and more discreet. I am not supposed to practise but I do.’
‘He’s too old,’ Aunt Zuzia interrupted. ‘He should be putting his feet up at his age but no, he’s out there helping everyone just like he used to. Doesn’t charge much, just enough to get by, but that way we’re kept safe and our friends are kept healthy. He’s worried about the orphans now. All those poor children who have lost their parents. Not much he can do though.’
Uncle Julek tutted.
‘But don’t they suspect anything?’ Božena asked. ‘People coming into your apartment all the time?’
‘Oh, they don’t all come here,’ Aunt Zuzia replied. ‘Mostly he visits. Occasionally someone might come here but not often enough to arouse suspicion.’
‘It’s all good exercise,’ Uncle Julek added. ‘Don’t want to be sitting around all day with my feet up. Too much time to think then.’
Then it went silent. No one said a word until Aunt Zuzia put the teacups on the table with a loud clatter.
After the tea, Aunt Zuzia said, ‘Renata, we haven’t shown you your room, yet. Would you like to see it?’
‘Yes please, Aunt Zuzia,’ I said, jumping off my chair and taking her hand. She led me through to another room. On the bed there was a bright blue bedspread. There was a narrow wardrobe for clothes, a chair, and a table positioned in such a way that the light from the window bounced off its shiny surface. I loved the room immediately and imagined myself lying on the bed reading books borrowed from the library downstairs.
‘When you go to school,’ Aunt Zuzia told me, ‘you will soon make friends to play with and you can ask them to come and play here in your room.’
‘As long as they don’t make a noise and disturb me,’ added Uncle Julek, who had just appeared in the doorway. ‘I’m not going to have my home turned into a zoo by a lot of other people’s noisy offspring. It’s bad enough that we have been landed with one of our own.’
‘Take no notice of your uncle, darling,’ Aunt Zuzia said. ‘He doesn’t mean it. He’s really happy that you’re here. It’s just a little joke. He’s always joking.’
But I had already decided that it would be best to keep out of the way of my uncle and his little jokes. I had a funny feeling that he really didn’t want me there at all.
‘What a lovely room. You are a lucky girl. Wait till I tell Frederika,’ Božena said.
‘And that just leaves the bathroom and our room,’ Aunt Zuzia said, leading us out of my room and opening the last two doors.
Their bedroom was small, a lot smaller than mine, and almost completely filled by a large bed but, unlike mine, there was no window.
‘She insisted we gave up our room for the child,’ Uncle Julek growled. ‘Said she would need the space more than we do. Ridiculous.’
Aunt Zuzia and Božena said nothing.
‘Please, I don’t mind having this room,’ I said, trying to make my uncle like me a little, ‘if you would like the other one back.’
‘Don’t tell us what to do,’ the old man snapped. ‘We decide which room you have. It’s not up
to you.’ He turned on his heel and left.
‘His bark’s far worse than his bite,’ Aunt Zuzia said to Božena. ‘He’s taken the death of our boys very hard, even harder than I have. He feels guilty that he’s alive and they are dead. It has made him very bitter. I try to be patient.’
She turned to me. ‘Don’t look so worried, my precious. Uncle Julek loves you very much and anyway it was his idea to give you the bigger room. So you see he doesn’t mean what he says in his grumpy old way. He just enjoys a grumble.’
She led us back into the kitchen and invited Božena to sit down again.
‘We are very grateful to you for bringing Renata to us. Frederika wrote that you are a wonderfully kind person and would look after her well. What can we do to repay you?’
‘Absolutely nothing. It is a pleasure to be able to help,’ Božena replied with a smile. ‘Frederika is a dear friend who has helped me in the past more than once. I was glad of the opportunity to do something for her. Besides, she insisted on giving me money, which I really didn’t want, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. I have a letter for you from her.’ She fumbled in her pocket. ‘If you want me to take something back to her I would be delighted to do so. I shall be seeing her very shortly. We are working together at the moment.’
‘Really, what are you doing?’
‘I’m sorry,’ Božena said, ‘I’m sure that you will understand that I’m not in a position to say. It’s safer for you that way. Please don’t worry about Frederika. She’s fine.’
‘Our daughter-in-law’s a saint,’ Aunt Zuzia said. ‘I don’t know how we would have coped without her. Who would have thought that the young, pretty, fun-loving girl our eldest son married would have turned out the way she has. If only he were alive to see her now, he would be so proud.’ Tears welled up in her eyes but Aunt Zuzia quickly pulled herself together.
‘Take no notice of your silly old aunty, my darling,’ she said, seeing that I was worried by the sudden change in the conversation. ‘Everything will be happy now you are here. We’re going to have a lot of fun and it won’t be much longer, they say, until the war ends and things are back to normal.’ She wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her cardigan and smiled at me. ‘Now for some food.’
First we had a delicious potato soup followed by paluszki, little dumplings coated with fried onions. There was plenty to go round and Uncle Julek had two helpings of both. For a small man he ate a large amount. To finish there were more cups of sweet tea. I could remember these tastes from long ago but however hard I tried I couldn’t remember where it was that I had eaten these things before.
‘Now, Božena, it is far too late for you to start travelling back to Warsaw. You must stay the night with us. I can make a bed up for you in Julek’s room.’
‘That is very kind of you, but I really must leave this evening. The sooner I get going the better, but it is most kind of you to share your wonderful food with me.’ Božena sounded as if she was ready to go and nothing would change her mind. ‘My work awaits and there is a train in an hour which I plan to catch.’
‘Then in that case I will take you back to the station,’ Uncle Julek said.
‘Absolutely not,’ Božena insisted. ‘You stay here. I will be fine. I am used to travelling alone.’ Božena smiled at him. ‘Well, Renata,’ she said, pulling on her coat. ‘I’m sure we shall meet again and I shall tell Frederika what a good little girl you’ve been and how happy you are here. She will be very pleased.’ She bent down and gave me a big hug.
‘Give Frederika my love,’ I said, my face buried in Božena’s middle, ‘and her parents, and your aunt and uncle too.’ I added, ‘I hope your uncle doesn’t die. Oh, and please tell Frederika about the library downstairs and all those books I shall be able to read and what a lovely room I have and what a good cook Aunt Zuzia is and . . . and . . . how kind Uncle Julek is because he insisted I should have the big bedroom.’
‘Who told her that?’ Uncle Julek growled.
But I was sure that I saw his face soften for a moment before he looked all grumpy again. I grabbed Božena’s arm and stood on tiptoe.
‘I’m sorry, Božena,’ I said quietly. ‘Really I am.’
Božena patted my head and smiled. ‘I know you are,’ she said. ‘Don’t worry about it any more but just remember, you are not alone.’
I wasn’t sure whether she meant me, or my family, or all of us the Nazis hated.
Uncle Julek showed Božena to the door. ‘That’s an honest woman,’ he said when he rejoined us in the kitchen. ‘Now, Zuzia, for goodness’ sake let the child breathe. You’ve done nothing but hug her and sob over her ever since she arrived. Give her a chance to settle in. You can ask all the questions you want later and then, and only then, will we think about what to do with her. But now she must be ready for her bed.’
He was right, I was very tired. Once again my life had been turned upside down, once again I was in another home with new people. But this time I wasn’t with strangers, I was with my very own family and had my very own room. Božena was right. I wasn’t alone. I belonged here with my aunt and uncle.
The minute the library opened the following morning Aunt Zuzia and I went there. I was so excited and hoped that I would see some of my old friends again. Aunt Zuzia enrolled me as a member and then I was free to look around. The books were mainly old and shabby without any pictures, but that didn’t matter at all. In between two much larger, older books I read a familiar name on one of the spines – Charles Dickens. Eagerly I looked for other favourites but couldn’t find any but I didn’t mind, there were shelves and shelves of books, enough to keep me going for the rest of my life. This was the best library in the world. I took down book after book and looked through the pages. Each one was full of magical words that I hadn’t come across before, and now that I had Aunt Zuzia I would be able to read them and remember them and begin to understand them all.
I read everything and anything, at breakneck speed, and it didn’t matter that the stories were too grown-up for me, or that the facts were too complicated. There were hundreds and thousands of new words all waiting to be discovered.
‘Not you again,’ the librarian laughed on my third visit. ‘I have never known anyone read as fast as you. Are you sure you are reading them? Three books in three days is rather a lot, even for an adult.’
‘Oh yes,’ I said. ‘I have nothing to do except read. Aunt Zuzia helps. She tells me what all the words mean.’
‘Well, it won’t be long,’ the librarian said, ‘before you will have read everything I have. And what will you do then? It’s such a pity that we don’t have more books. It’s all because of the war. Once we had so many there wasn’t room for them on the shelves and we had to keep them in boxes in the cellar.’
‘What happened to them?’ I asked, puzzled. ‘Didn’t people return them?’
‘Yes,’ the librarian replied. ‘People returned them all right, only too quickly once the Nazis started burning the ones they didn’t like. I had to get rid of many of them. Now no one wants to read books any more.’
I was shocked. How could anyone not want to read books? And how could anyone want to burn them?
‘But there are many here,’ the librarian continued, ‘that really aren’t suitable for someone as young as you. If you are going to read this quickly, I will have to have a word with your aunt.’
‘Oh she won’t mind,’ I said, ‘and anyway when I’ve read all the books I can always read them again.’
The librarian didn’t look so sure and a few days later she took Aunt Zuzia to one side while I was busy looking for another book to borrow.
‘Mrs Zielińska, a lot of these books aren’t suitable for little girls. I really do think that it would be better if you or your husband checked what she’s borrowing. Renata is quite insistent that you won’t mind, but I just want to warn you. The selection isn’t that great here any more and so I can’t direct her towards more suitable literature for her age group.’
The two ladies laughed and I breathed a sigh of relief. I could read anything I liked. I silently thanked Uncle Julek a hundred times or more.
After that first visit to the library, we didn’t return upstairs immediately.
‘Let’s go for a little walk,’ Aunt Zuzia suggested. ‘Let’s go into town, I have your papers.’ I was eager to explore, happy that I could, at last, be outside, walking around in the open air. Together Aunt Zuzia and I wandered through the streets like normal people, hurrying only when we caught sight of soldiers in the distance.
‘This is where you lived, that apartment on the first floor with the balcony,’ Aunt Zuzia said as we stood outside the tall building in Jagiellońska Street. ‘Do you remember?’
I looked at the windows above me. I had a faraway memory of a bell push on a wall, a blue chaise longue and a balcony full of plants. And then I remembered other things – the tall stove in the living room, the smell of Babcia’s cooking and the blue peacock quilt.
‘I used to come and visit you every single day,’ Aunt Zuzia was saying. ‘I would bring you a piece of melon or we would go together and buy it from the market. You loved it. Marynia then used to take you to the park and you always took your melon with you and ate it there. Do you remember the melon?’
Of course I remembered the melon. I looked at Aunt Zuzia to see if she knew what Marynia and I had done with those melon slices all that time ago, but there was nothing on her face to suggest that she had.
‘Where is Marynia?’ I said suddenly. ‘I haven’t seen her for ages. Can we visit her?’
‘Marynia has had to go away,’ Aunt Zuzia said quickly. ‘You can’t see her.’
‘When will she be back? When can I see her?’
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