Let Me Tell You a Story Page 4

  ‘Shut that noise up!’ a woman’s voice snapped.

  ‘Stop that brat howling,’ someone else snarled from the darkness. ‘The soldiers will be in to shoot us all before you know it.’

  ‘She’s upset,’ Mamusia said, hugging me close, explaining to the room at large. ‘That cat has just eaten her pet canary and she loved him so much.’

  ‘Who cares about a bird when people are dying of starvation? People are being murdered by the Germans? Think of my Sophie. It’ll be us sooner or later!’ shrieked the old woman. ‘What about Hannah?’

  There were grunts of agreement from around the room as everyone settled back in bed and soon silence fell.

  I’d heard about Hannah that evening after Babcia had left. Mamusia wasn’t yet back to distract me. I’d heard how the Nazis had visited the factory without warning. A terror-stricken silence had fallen as everyone stood by helpless and afraid, watching the latest ‘chosen’ being prodded, beaten and brutalised as they were hustled off to the waiting lorries. That day Mamusia had been spared. They had targeted the old and infirm. Thank goodness Babcia didn’t work the day shift.

  ‘Tosia will tell you,’ one woman began. ‘She was standing next to Esther. Esther made the mistake of trying to shield her mother from the soldiers by standing in front of her,’ continued the woman. ‘But when she moved in front of Hannah, one of the young soldiers saw the old lady, grabbed her and pushed her with the butt of his rifle.

  ‘Then when Hannah turned round and held out her arms to her daughter, he just kicked her in the back,’ another voice interrupted.

  ‘Esther could do nothing but simply stand and watch. She couldn’t even say goodbye.’

  ‘Hannah was pushed out of the door and into the waiting lorry.’

  ‘Nothing new there,’ came the gruff voice of a man. ‘Shan’t see her again. She’ll be dead before the day’s out.’

  ‘Hopefully,’ said another. ‘Poor Esther. Poor Hannah. Such a lovely woman.’

  ‘But long after the last of the lorries had driven away,’ the first voice continued, ‘Esther had just stood there still as a statue, white as a ghost, tearless. In shock, probably. She didn’t go back to work and guess what, the soldiers just ignored her.’

  ‘Then she broke down, fell to the floor crying and pleading to the darkness to be taken too. They didn’t, of course. Just left her there. Animals. It would have been the kindest thing to do.’

  Mamusia didn’t know that I knew this story. I had already heard others like it. As my mind turned from Hannah, to Sophie, to Tomek and back again I cried inconsolably in Mamusia’s arms. I couldn’t understand what was happening or why, yet I understood enough to feel the worry and torment and I was terrified. Gradually, in the warmth and comfort of Mamusia’s hold, my eyelids became heavier and heavier until at last I fell asleep, soothed by the knowledge that Mamusia was there to protect me.

  That night must have seemed endless for Mamusia. She had spent a sleepless night holding me tight. She must have been glad when the room turning its usual grey meant that it was the morning. Activity of any sort was better than the nightmares that came at night and played tricks with your mind. She tried to get out of bed without waking me, but I stirred as soon as she moved. I remembered immediately that something terrible had happened. I looked to where my canary’s cage had stood and burst into tears again. This woke the others and the grumbles of the day began. The smell from the communal bucket grew worse as the occupants of the room took turns to use it, one after another.

  The factory hooter sounded and the men and women in the room began to tie their headscarves and put on the ragged remains of their coats. Even though the room was stuffy it was bitterly cold and the sound of rain outside added to the misery.

  I was still crying and holding on tightly to Mamusia as she tried to get dressed and pull on her armband with its yellow star with one hand. She kept glancing anxiously at the outer door and I realised that Babcia hadn’t yet returned from the night shift.

  ‘Where is Babcia?’ I sobbed. I desperately wanted to tell Babcia about Tomek and the horrible black cat. She would understand; she would comfort me. I pushed away the piece of bread Mamusia offered me.

  ‘I don’t want it,’ I said through my tears.

  ‘There’s nothing else, darling,’ Mamusia said. ‘You must eat.’

  The factory hooter sounded again. Still the people from the night shift hadn’t appeared.

  The old woman wailed, ‘Another purge. They must be there again.’

  The silence outside confirmed the thoughts of all the people in the room.

  My mother sat rocking me in her arms, saying nothing. I could feel her shaking. She knew she should be going, but was totally unable to release me and leave me on my own.

  Then without warning the door burst open and a German soldier in a heavy overcoat holding a gun in his hands rushed in bringing with him the howling, cold wind.

  ‘Everyone to work. Now!’ he yelled. ‘Stir yourselves, you filthy pigs, before I shoot the lot of you!’

  Everyone began to move slowly forward towards the open door through which the wind howled with its biting cold.

  Without thinking or being told to do so, as the door opened, I’d automatically jumped out of Mamusia’s arms and lain on the floor out of sight between our beds. Mamusia tried to remain calm. I knew she would have to leave me and I prayed that Babcia would turn up quickly. Why hadn’t Babcia come back? What was happening? Would Mamusia leave me alone? My mother made a great effort to sound casual and unconcerned as she bent down, pretending to pick something up.

  ‘I must go. Don’t move, my precious. Babcia will be here soon to look after you and I will be back this evening,’ she whispered. ‘Perhaps I may even have another piece of sausage.’

  It was too dangerous to kiss me so she moved towards the door after the others and shuffled through without a backward glance.

  The soldier waited until the room was empty and with a final glance around he too left, banging the door behind him. He didn’t notice the little golden-haired girl lying on the floor between two of the beds.

  I lay on the draughty wooden floorboards, just as my mother had told me to do, but still my grandmother didn’t return. This was the first time I had been totally alone in the room. I felt cold and very frightened. I stayed where I was, watching the door and hugging Baby Doll, drifting off to sleep and then suddenly waking as the cold and fear gripped me again and again. I was too young to measure time in minutes or hours but, as my stomach growled, I counted the meals I knew I was missing. Breakfast. Lunch. Supper. Hungrier and hungrier.

  Eventually, shivering with cold, I walked round the room in search of food. All I could find was a small piece of very dry bread that I swallowed greedily and felt even emptier than before. I returned to the space between the two beds and the empty feeling in my stomach turned to pain, which made me cry. I couldn’t balance on the bucket without help, so in the end a warm puddle spread where I sat and eventually I fell asleep.

  I awoke to a room that was completely dark. A whole day had passed and Babcia hadn’t returned. I climbed into Mamusia’s bed and crouched under the grey blanket, comforted in part by the familiar smell of my mother.

  At last the door opened and the old woman and Janka hurried in.

  ‘Where is she?’ Janka said. Then she called out, ‘Renata, where are you? Are you here?’

  I came out from under the blanket shaking and clutching Baby Doll, my last link with my old life. ‘Where is my Mamusia and my Babcia?’

  Janka burst into tears, picked me up and hugged me tight, rocking back and forth and crying.

  ‘I want Mamusia!’ I wailed, trying to push her away. ‘I want my Babcia and I want my canary. I want to go home and I want sausage.’

  ‘Your mummy and granny have had to go away for a little while,’ Janka said, releasing her grip a little. ‘They asked me to look after you until they come back. You’ll be all right with me. I will give you
something to eat and you can sleep with me in my bed tonight.’ She looked at me kindly.

  ‘I want my Mamusia. I want my Babcia.’

  ‘How are we going to cope with the brat?’ the old woman snarled.

  I looked at her through my tears. Her face was that of a wicked witch – a walnut covered in wrinkles with a nasty expression. Just like the witch in ‘Hansel and Gretel’. She stood well away from me, but leaned forward as if she wanted to snatch me.

  ‘They’ll find her and then we’ll all be dead.’

  ‘I seem to remember a different story from you when your Sophie was taken away. You were only too glad of sympathy. Have some pity for the child and just remember how kind her mother was to you,’ Janka spat at her with venom in her voice.

  The old woman wiped her eyes and spoke in a slightly softer voice. ‘That’s all very well but how are you going to cope with that burden round your neck? Don’t expect any help from me – or anyone else for that matter. The sooner they catch the brat the better for us all. What’s the point of trying to keep her alive now, with no one left to look after her? All the other children have gone. It’s only a matter of time.’

  ‘Her mother may come back. Don’t be so heartless.’ Janka tried to cover my ears.

  ‘Don’t make me laugh! Does anyone ever come back? Do you think they are taken away for a little holiday?’ the old woman snarled. ‘Grow up, girl; it may be your turn sooner than you think and don’t expect me to look after that child if you are taken.’

  ‘You are a hard-hearted old woman. I don’t expect anything from you. You’re not human. You’re just as bad as those German pigs. Don’t bother to speak to me again. Just keep out of my way or you’ll be sorry.’

  I could sense that Janka was very angry, but couldn’t really follow what the argument was about.

  ‘When will Mamusia and Babcia come?’ I sobbed. ‘Who will put me and Baby Doll to bed? I’m so sleepy.’

  ‘I will.’ Janka tried to smile and gave me another hug. ‘I promised your Mamusia that I would look after you and I will.’ Janka looked me in the eyes and wiped my tears away. ‘She asked me to give you a big hug from her and to tell you to be a good girl until she gets back. She will try to be back as soon as she can and so will your Babcia.’

  ‘Where have they gone and why didn’t they take me with them?’ I asked, wanting the answers that no one was prepared to give.

  ‘They’ve gone away with a lot of other people from the factory in a big lorry,’ explained Janka.

  ‘But why didn’t they come home and say they were going?’ I demanded.

  ‘They weren’t allowed to. The Germans were in a hurry and made them leave straight away.’

  Janka’s voice broke and she wiped her nose on her sleeve.

  ‘Where have they gone?’ I pleaded.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Tell the child the truth,’ said Piotr, the skeleton man who had come in while all this was going on. He stood dabbing at his brow with a filthy handkerchief. ‘She’ll have to know sooner or later.’ Then he turned to me. ‘Your mother and grandmother were taken off to Szebnie in a purge. That’s what the Nazis said. They will never come back. You’ll never see them again. Even if you go there yourself – which you probably will. If you live that long.’

  His strange, mad laugh filled the room but changed to a yelp of pain as Janka turned and hit him so hard across the mouth that blood spewed out between the gaps in his teeth.

  That was September 1943 and I was nearly six. It was the last time I ever saw my Mamusia and Babcia.

  Mamusia and Renata, 1939

  One day soon after Mamusia and Babcia disappeared out of my life, panic set in once more. An order had gone out saying that everyone left in the ghetto had to be counted and moved. Piotr turned on Janka and, pointing a dirty finger at me, hissed, ‘What did I tell you? Her time has come. All the other children in the ghetto have gone. How will you hide her now? And if we are going to be moved how are you going to look after her?’

  Janka, looking very pale and worried, drew me to her and for once couldn’t fire off an answer to Piotr.

  ‘You’ll just have to stay here, Renata,’ she said. ‘Hide like you always do and don’t come out for anyone. No one knows you are here any more so they won’t be looking for you. I will try and come back for you.’

  Piotr snorted but a look from Janka silenced him. I could tell in the way she spoke that she too knew that, if chosen, she wouldn’t be able to come back to find me. We sat silently on the bed together holding on to each other and not saying a word. I was too frightened to cry and Janka was too tired or too worried to tell me that everything would be all right. I could feel the faceless monster from the dark shadows creeping ever closer.

  From somewhere outside we heard noises. Barking orders broke the stillness inside the room. Gun butts pounded on doors. Men and women began shouting and crying. More orders. Scuffling feet. Muffled sobs. Doors banging. Automatically I dropped to the floor, my heart pounding in my chest, my head filling with blood making me dizzy and sending stars flashing in front of my eyes. Janka stood up shielding me from view and I manoeuvred myself under the bed and lay frozen on the floor. The door to our room burst open and soldiers entered.

  ‘Everyone out!’ one of them ordered. ‘Now!’

  I could see Janka’s feet in her dirty brown shoes with the heels so worn they were almost gone, moving slowly towards the door making the dust and dirt rise into the air and swirl around and around. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the noise of heavy boots on the wooden boards. Then the room went quiet and I heard nothing but the pounding of the blood in my ears and the beating of my heart in my chest. Then softly, slowly, I heard another sound – footsteps. Booted feet carefully moving this way and that around the beds, stopping and starting as if looking for something – someone. I willed myself to disappear but instead opened my eyes and then I saw them – black boots standing within a few inches of my face. I can’t remember what happened next but I was aware of a hand grabbing my hair and pulling me out from under the bed. I kicked and struggled but the grip was tightening. I was yanked from my hiding place and finally saw it, that terrifying monster from the shadows that had kept me company every night patiently waiting and watching for the right moment.

  The time had come.

  I couldn’t make a sound. I tried to kick out and wriggle free but he threw me out through the door and into the glaring daylight. Panic-stricken and half blinded I stumbled along in front of this giant of a man with the barrel of a gun poking my back between my shoulder blades. I searched the blank, staring faces, desperately trying to find Janka, but could see no one. Without warning the soldier pushed me onto the ground with his gun. I looked up into the face of the monster towering above me. He looked down and stopped. Hesitated. Seconds passed that felt like hours.

  ‘What do we do with this one, Oberleutnant Schwammberger?’ he barked.

  The SS camp officer turned round, his eyes found me kneeling on the ground. No one made a sound. I caught a slight intake of breath. His polished boots came towards me covered with dust and squeaking slightly, then stopped. I looked up at him, and with the bright daylight dancing behind his peaked head, I could only see a black shadow where his face should have been.

  He said nothing then bent down and pulled me up by one arm, shouting, ‘Here, take your blonde changeling. She’s yours!’ He threw me into a small group of men and women and into Janka’s arms.

  Janka pulled me behind her and tried to hide me with her skirt. I glimpsed the blank faces of a large group of thin men and women dressed in rags standing opposite us – so different from the smart uniformed soldiers and the beautifully dressed people from the town watching us through the fence as if we were one of the street shows Aunt Zuzia and I liked to watch before the war. Suddenly all the noises began to flow away. I became icy cold and started trembling as waves of sickness rose in my throat. I grabbed onto the back of Janka’s skirt wit
h both hands as if my whole life depended upon it and my legs gave way beneath me.

  I returned to the ghetto with Janka and the small group of Jews that hadn’t been taken away at gun-point. As the noise of fireworks filled the air that afternoon, I no longer wished I could watch, but simply longed for Mamusia and Babcia to return. I no longer cared that I was dirty and hungry and never went outside. I just wanted my mother and grandmother more than I had ever wanted anything in my life. But they didn’t come. No one came.

  In those days and weeks after they were taken from me, as time passed and with no one to shelter me from the events outside the room, my understanding of the situation began to grow and soon made me old beyond my years. I slowly realised that what old Piotr had said was right – perhaps I really would never see my mother or grandmother again. But I did have a father still, somewhere, fighting to save us. One day he would return. He had to – I just had to be patient.

  Chapter Three

  September 1943. Przemyśl Ghetto

  First my father, and now my mother and grandmother had vanished from my life. Alone in the room, my thoughts turned more and more to happier times and to Marynia, the nanny I adored. Babcia told me that Marynia had lost her own baby at the same time that I came into the world. I often wondered how she had come to lose her baby and was very pleased that she hadn’t lost me and had enough milk for me. She had cared for me and loved me since the day I was born. She’d been my second mother.