Let Me Tell You a Story Read online

  ‘Here’s your doll,’ she said, handing her to me. ‘You mustn’t forget her, must you?’

  ‘Where are we going?’ I asked. ‘Are we going to find Jan? He might be very cold waiting for his mummy to come back. Perhaps we ought to take an extra jumper for him?’

  ‘No, we’re not going to find Jan. Someone will look after him, I expect. We’re going to find Marynia. I do know where to find her. She will look after you and make arrangements.’

  ‘That will be lovely. I want to see her so much. Will you stay with her too?’

  ‘No. I have a job to do.’

  ‘With Maciej?’

  ‘You ask too many questions, Renata. No, not with Maciej, never again with him. The organisation I work for will find me someone else to work with.’

  ‘Oh, what work do you do?’

  ‘I told you, you ask too many questions. You’re too bright for your own good. We must go. When we’re in the street, hold my hand tight and don’t speak for any reason. If we are stopped by soldiers, or anyone in fact, don’t speak even if they ask you a question. Do you understand?’

  ‘Yes.’

  I felt quite safe with this new Hanka. She opened the door of the flat, stepped out, looked around and then beckoned.

  ‘Now remember, not a word, my brave little friend.’

  Chapter Eight

  November 1943. Skierniewice, about 220 miles north-west of Przemyśl

  ‘But I don’t understand,’ Marynia was saying. ‘What can you possibly have against Jadwiga? She’s been so kind to you. It was she, after all, who made the arrangements for you to stay with Maciej and Hanka. Now that it’s unsafe for you to be with them, she has offered to have you in her own house in the country. It will be so much safer there.’

  It was the first time I could ever remember not wanting to do what Marynia said. Hadn’t I promised always to do everything she told me? But I simply couldn’t go and live with Jadwiga after what had happened. I had to protest even though in my heart of hearts I knew that it wouldn’t do any good.

  ‘I don’t want to stay with Jadwiga. I’m not going.’ I stamped my foot. ‘She’s horrid. Please let me stay with you.’

  ‘You’re not staying here, get that in your head once and for all,’ Jusiek, sitting in the chair by stove, growled. ‘We do enough for you as it is . . .’

  ‘Be quiet, Jusiek. You just stay out of this,’ Marynia said quickly.

  ‘Fine, I’ll stay out of this as long as she stays out of our place. Why you go on looking after her beats me. What d’you get out of it except a lot of sleepless nights? You’re putting us both in danger we can well do without. I’m fed up to the back teeth with it.’

  Marynia ignored him and bent down so that her eyes were on a level with mine. The effort of doing this was considerable, causing her to become short of breath, but she spoke in a wheezy voice. ‘Listen to me, sweetheart,’ she said softly, holding me by the shoulders and looking directly into my eyes. ‘There is no choice. You have to go to Jadwiga. It’s very dangerous for you to stay in Przemyśl. The Nazis will get to know about you and if they find you, they will kill you.’

  ‘Why?’

  Marynia sighed.

  ‘Because you’re Jewish and the Nazis hate Jews.’

  ‘But why do they hate me? I haven’t done anything bad to them, have I?’ I began to cry. ‘Please don’t send me to Jadwiga.’ I clung to Marynia’s skirt. ‘I’ll go anywhere else. I’m frightened of her.’

  Marynia looked worried. ‘Has she ever hit you or punished you in any way?’

  ‘No,’ I muttered, looking at my feet.

  ‘So, what has she done to make you so afraid?’

  I was far too embarrassed to explain what had happened and how Maciej had behaved after Jadwiga’s last visit. How could I? It was my fault. I had made Jadwiga angry and then she had been angry with Maciej and Hanka. I still didn’t understand what I had said or why Maciej had been so angry. But it was all my fault and there was nothing I could do about it. I was so ashamed I couldn’t tell anyone, not even Marynia, about the way he had beaten Jan and made me lie across the sofa forcing me to listen to the thud of his belt. And then Jan had disappeared without a word. I must have done something terribly wrong. Even the thought of it made me feel sick and dizzy.

  ‘I just don’t like her,’ I answered.

  ‘Let me tell you something.’ Marynia heaved herself up off her knees and took my hands. ‘Do you remember your Cousin Fredzio’s wife, Frederika?’

  ‘The one with curly red hair?’

  ‘Yes, that’s the one.’

  ‘I think so. Not very well. I remember she was nice.’

  ‘Frederika came to see me a few days ago to ask if I knew where you were. I told her I did and she got very excited and said she wanted to see you.’

  ‘Why hasn’t she been to see me before?’

  ‘Because she couldn’t. She has been looking after her parents, her brother and her husband. You remember your Uncle Karol and Cousin Fredzio, don’t you? They were all hidden like you from the Nazis but now her brother and Fredzio are both dead.’

  ‘How did they die?’

  ‘Well, Karol was in an organisation called the Resistance, that’s a secret organisation fighting against the Nazis, and he was captured and shot.’

  ‘Oh,’ I exclaimed. ‘Maciej and Hanka talked about something called the Resistance.’

  Suddenly what I had so often heard in Maciej’s apartment was beginning to make a little sense.

  ‘I hope Hanka doesn’t get shot. Did Cousin Fredzio get shot too?’

  ‘You ask a lot of questions,’ said Marynia. ‘He was killed when the hospital where he was working was blown up.’

  ‘Did a bomb fall on the hospital?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘When the bomb fell on us we weren’t killed, so why was he?’

  ‘You were lucky. It must have been a bigger bomb that hit the hospital. He wasn’t actually in the hospital when the bomb fell, he was on his way to the hospital to help the injured people who were hurt by the bomb and he was shot outside his home. But let me finish my story,’ Marynia said. ‘Frederika has been looking after her parents and also your Great-aunt Zuzia and Great-uncle Julek. She heard about a small, golden-haired girl who was found hiding in the ghetto and for some reason wasn’t taken away during the last clearances. People talked about it because no one could believe that a child had been able to remain there for so long without being found. Of course, she immediately thought that there was a possibility that the little girl might be you and, you know Frederika, she had to find out. Eventually, she made contact with me and I told her everything. She was beside herself with joy but devastated by what had happened to Adela and Zazula. She’s said that she will look after you . . .’

  I looked at Marynia, a smile spreading across my face.

  ‘But,’ Marynia continued quickly, ‘Renata, she can’t look after you herself, not just yet.’

  The smile stopped.

  ‘That is why you have to go and stay with Jadwiga. Frederika has given Jadwiga a lot of money and you will be well looked after. Then you will go and live with Frederika. When she’s ready.’

  Marynia looked into my eyes to make sure I had understood. ‘You are a very lucky girl to have so many people who love you and want to look after you. So, don’t fuss about going to Jadwiga. I’m sure she’ll be nice to you and you’ll like her a lot once you get to know her properly. Anyway, it won’t be for long. Frederika will come and get you as soon as she can arrange it.’

  ‘Will you come and visit me?’ I asked.

  ‘No, my darling,’ Marynia said, hugging me tight. ‘She has a house out in the countryside a long way from here. It will be too far for me to come and that is why it’s a good place for you to stay. But,’ she added, ‘she has a garden that you can play in.’

  I could see that there was no use arguing further and maybe it wasn’t so bad after all. It would only be for a short while and the
thought of being able to go outside cheered me up, even if it was just a little.

  Then I had a thought. ‘Can Jan come too?’

  ‘Jan is back with his mother. He’ll want to stay with her.’

  ‘No he isn’t,’ I insisted. ‘I heard Maciej tell Hanka that his mother had gone away and he had left Jan in the street. He’ll be so cold and unhappy. We must go and find him and then he can come with me to Jadwiga.’

  Marynia seemed not to be listening. She was reaching for her coat that was hanging on its hook by the door.

  ‘Where the hell do you think you’re going?’ Jusiek jumped up angrily from his seat and went to stand in front of the door.

  ‘Get out of my way, Jusiek,’ Marynia ordered him. ‘Where do you think I’m going? I’m going to find that child.’

  ‘Oh, no you’re not.’ Jusiek pushed her back into the room. ‘You’re not getting us involved with that as well. If he really left the boy in the street, do you think he’s still there or even alive? Not a chance.’

  ‘Don’t talk like that in front of her,’ Marynia hissed. ‘She’s only a child.’

  ‘That’s right,’ Jusiek answered. ‘She’s only a child and she doesn’t understand what we’re talking about.’

  But I understood, and only too well. Jan would be dead and Marynia wouldn’t be able to find him. Marynia slowly removed her coat and returned to her seat. Nothing more was said.

  Jadwiga took me to her home in the country herself. She lived just outside the small town of Skierniewice and to get there we had to go by train. Marynia and I went to the railway station early the following morning and amongst the crowds of people Marynia somehow managed to find Jadwiga. She handed over a bag with a few clothes and bent down to give me a quick peck on the cheek. Then she released my hand.

  ‘Be a good girl now,’ she said before pushing me away gently and turning and walking back the way we had come. I didn’t have time to say goodbye, give her a hug or to tell her how much I loved her. I felt tears welling up in my eyes as Jadwiga took my hand and pulled me towards the waiting train. I looked for Marynia amongst the crowds of people but my eyes wouldn’t focus. I wanted to run after her and hug her. But she had disappeared. I felt terrible that I was going such a long way away. I didn’t know if I would ever see her again.

  ‘It’s over 200 miles north-west of Przemyśl and we are about halfway,’ Jadwiga replied when I asked how long we were going to be on the train. We had been travelling for some hours and I was tired of staring at the wooden floor, trying to peep out through the knot holes in the sides and avoiding looking at the other passengers like Jadwiga had told me.

  I was fed up with standing in the corner of the wagon, my legs were stiff, and I wanted to run. There was no room and everyone was grumpy and tired. It was a relief when we finally arrived at Skierniewice station and I could finally stretch my legs. But the walk to Jadwiga’s cottage tired me out and my legs began to ache long before we had reached the outskirts of the town. After we had left the last houses some way behind us Jadwiga announced that we had arrived.

  Her cottage was small and set back from the lane. A narrow path led up the garden to the front door. All around were tall trees that made me feel small and safe. I decided that I would like living here, for a little while. It was quiet and much nicer than living in one room.

  I followed Jadwiga up the path and through the front door. Inside there were two bedrooms that joined the kitchen-living room. Jadwiga led me into the smaller bedroom where I was to sleep and put the bag Marynia had given her on the bed. It was dark as the window was covered by a black-out curtain. The bed stood against the wall, and there was a chair and a hook for hanging clothes. There were no ornaments or pictures of any sort. I knew then that Jadwiga had no children of her own.

  It was the first time that I’d ever had a room to myself and I loved it because it was mine. But sometimes at night, when I lay in the dark unable to sleep, I felt very afraid and very alone. Then I would have terrible thoughts: Would Frederika be able to find me? What about Tatuś, would Frederika tell him where I was? What if she was to be taken by the soldiers, how would I ever find my father again? But when I heard Jadwiga’s loud snores from her bedroom next door, just knowing that there was someone nearby comforted me.

  Jadwiga’s room was bigger. Her single bed was positioned just under the window and a large wooden chest containing her possessions – and firmly locked – was set against the opposite wall along with a wardrobe and dressing table. The dressing table was crowded with all kinds of interesting-looking jars and bottles of different shapes and sizes, which I was forbidden to touch. The kitchen-living room was much larger and was kept warm by the big iron stove in the corner. This stove was also used for cooking and three blackened saucepans hung from the ceiling rafters above. In the middle of the room stood a wooden table with two chairs and around the remaining three walls were bookcases crammed with books.

  ‘Why do you have so many books?’ I asked soon after my arrival.

  ‘I was a teacher,’ Jadwiga told me. ‘Because of the war all the schools have closed down, including the ones in the town, and so now I have to earn a living in a different way.’

  I knew that by this she meant looking after the likes of Jan and me. Even so, I wished she could have been a bit friendlier. After all, having been a teacher she must have been used to children, and I was trying very hard to please her, even if I didn’t like her very much.

  At the back of the cottage were thick woods that reminded me of the story of ‘Hansel and Gretel’ and how, like me, the children had been hungry and lost. Sticks and branches, blown down from the trees, lay strewn across Jadwiga’s garden where no one had bothered to clear them away. I looked for a stick like the bone Hansel used to poke through the bars of his cage, a bone that resembled a long, thin finger. I spent a long time looking for the right-sized stick since it was my job to gather them up each morning so that Jadwiga could use them to feed the large iron stove inside the house. I dragged out the task for as long as possible. This was partly because I found it difficult to carry enough sticks and twigs in one go and I would have to make several trips before the basket by the fire was full enough to satisfy Jadwiga. But the reason was that I was able to be outside again. I had been kept indoors for so long that once let out I couldn’t get enough of the feeling of space, the warmth of the weak sun on my skin, the early morning smell of the fresh air and the feeling of dew wetting my feet as I left footprints on the silvery cobwebs that magically appeared overnight to cover the grass. Every time I went outside I stretched my arms as wide as I could and lifted my face to the sky and felt free, for the first time in a very long time. Now I let myself begin to hope that perhaps the fairy tales were right after all; perhaps there was such a thing as happy-ever-after.

  ‘Here is the vegetable patch.’

  Jadwiga was showing me around. We were standing looking at a large patch of earth covered with greenery.

  ‘These are potatoes.’ She indicated a row of yellow-looking leaves coming out of the earth. ‘Behind them are the carrots and the –’

  ‘But, Jadwiga, where are they?’ I interrupted. ‘Where are the potatoes and carrots?’

  Jadwiga looked at me as if I were one of those hated spiders that had crept into her house.

  ‘Don’t you know where vegetables come from?’ she snorted. ‘They are under the ground. You will have to dig them out, or pull them. Look.’

  She grasped a bunch of green feathery leaves and pulled gently and firmly and out popped a handful of beautiful long pointed orange carrots with lumps of muddy earth clinging to them. ‘See, they are hiding, away from all the little animals that want to eat them up. This can be your job, maybe you’ll learn something.’

  From that day on I was able to spend more time outdoors, either digging potatoes, pulling carrots or collecting the firewood. Jadwiga also had a small orchard of fruit trees that did not produce much fruit but there was enough for a dish of stewed ap
ple from time to time.

  ‘Here you are, some stewed apple,’ Jadwiga said one day, putting a bowl of green gloop in front of me.

  My mouth began to water; I could still remember how much I loved the stewed apple that Babcia used to make, eaten with cream or as a filling in pastries. I took a mouthful. To my horror the sour cooking apples hadn’t been sweetened and I could feel my taste buds shrivel. Still I ate it, and as time went on I grew accustomed to the sharpness and began to enjoy the tang on my tongue.

  Jadwiga hardly ever left the cottage and no one ever came to visit. Sometimes the old postman dropped a letter in to the box outside the gate and, if Jadwiga happened to be in the garden, she would chat to him for a short time. Once when he called whilst we were both outside she introduced me to him, calling me her niece from the city. Jadwiga wasn’t unkind, yet nor was she caring. Most of the time she took no notice of me unless she wanted a job done. She taught me how to sweep the floor with her hazelwood besom and fill basins of water for the washing up. The water came from the well outside the back door. I longed to peer down inside the well but the large wooden lid was too heavy to move. I imagined the still, clear pool deep in its mysterious cave underground and thought of the princess, banished from her father’s castle for saying she loved him like salt, tending to the old woman’s geese and washing herself in water from the well by moonlight. I remembered how the ending had been so happy. The king and queen had found their daughter and it made me long for my parents to find me and to take me home.

  To one side of the well there was a handle which I would pump up and down until my arms ached and the lovely crystal water spurted out. It was hard work but I loved getting the water to shoot out in long silvery ribbons.

  Once a week Jadwiga washed our clothes. This meant pumping and carrying bowlfuls of water and emptying them into a large bucket that she would boil on the stove. That was my job.

  ‘It’ll put some muscle back on you,’ was Jadwiga’s answer when I complained how heavy I found the pump arm. ‘Don’t be such a baby. You’re perfectly capable of carrying water.’