The Secrets We Share

by Emma Hannigan

  He examined me carefully and said he would work with the nurses to make me better. He helped me stand and led me to the bathroom, where one of the nurses had drawn me a bath.

  I saw my reflection in the mirror. Oh Lukas, I could barely believe I have become this poor creature with thinning matted hair, ghostly pale skin and protruding cheekbones so sharp they looked like they could pierce right through my pinched face. My piteously pointed chin made me resemble a tiny elf. At the age of twenty-four, I looked like a mere child.

  I cried as the doctor left the room and the nurse lifted my dress over my head. There was barely enough skin to cover my skeletal frame.

  The water was divine. I thought I had died and gone to heaven as the cleansing soapy water lapped over my emaciated body, making me feel for the first time as if I could possibly come through this atrocity.

  The nurse helped me out and dried me tenderly, offering me a clean soft nightshirt. The feel of the freshly laundered snow-white sheets against my skin was akin to being wrapped in angels’ wings.

  I woke to find Dr Schmitt sitting by my side. He was smiling and so was the lady beside him. He introduced her as his wife, Giselle. They explained that they were taking part in a programme that helped concentration camp survivors to restart their lives. They offered me free board and lodgings at their home.

  I’m here now, Lukas, and it is far more wonderful than any words can convey.

  I have a cosy converted attic space, with exposed beams and a painted iron bed. For the first couple of days after I arrived here, I simply gazed around the house in awe. By anyone’s standards, Dr Schmitt and his wife live in a beautiful house, but in comparison to Bergen-Belsen this place is more wonderful than I could have ever imagined.

  Giselle and I are making quilts. I knew a little of what to do, having spent that spell at Alina’s home. But Giselle is patient, kind and so incredibly enthusiastic that I am finding myself swept away on the cloud of positivity she creates.

  I told her last night about Clara. She was amazing, Lukas. She thinks I should go back and find her. I am going to continue making quilts, and I hope to sell them and use the proceeds to buy a ticket to America. Giselle occupies a stall at a nearby market. She sells many hand-made goods along with her own wonderful patchwork quilts. She has generously told me I am welcome to sell whatever I complete and keep the profits. At long last I will be able to take our baby girl to a better life. I have learned a skill that I am certain will be of use to me in America. Perhaps I can find a job as a seamstress. A world that was so incredibly hostile has been turned around. I am slowly regaining my faith in humanity. Giselle and Dr Schmitt are showing me that the evil I experienced is not universal.

  I still long for you, my Liebling. I think of you all the time and I know I will never love another man the way I loved you. I sometimes wonder where you are and who you are holding in your arms. But my greatest fear is that you are unhappy.

  I still love you as much as I did the day I first found you.

  Hannah

  Tears soaked Nathalie’s cheeks as she learned of Hannah’s release. Obviously she knew Hannah hadn’t died, but the emotions that engulfed her as she tried to imagine the intense relief her great-grandmother must’ve felt was awesome. She rocked back and forth as she realised just how precious this quilt-making was for her family. Feeling a wave of fresh love for Oma, she shook her head and thanked her silently for showing her how to do this wonderful craft. How precious that Clara had accepted her with open arms and instantly striven to engrain in her an activity that had linked the women of her ancestry. Nathalie had never felt so special or included.

  It was a joy to her to see that the letter, no longer written on dirty scraps, but on pretty cream embossed paper, was adorned with much steadier handwriting. The joy Nathalie experienced at knowing that Hannah was safe and well was like a balm to her soul.

  There weren’t many letters remaining in the final bundle, so Nathalie forged onwards, picking out the next one. She was so grateful to Oma for writing these out in English so she could understand what was being said, yet she was still able to hold the original documents.

  December 1945

  Dear Lukas

  I am dumbstruck. I am sitting in my room, where I am supposed to be fetching my coat and hat. Dr Schmitt is downstairs in the kitchen waiting for me.

  He returned from the hospital just now and asked me if the name Lukas Leibnitz means anything to me.

  I barely had a chance to answer when he informed me that you were brought into the hospital this morning. It seems you were struck by a car while wandering from the train station.

  He says you have been searching for me ceaselessly for the past eight years.

  Lukas, I do not know how to entertain these thoughts in my mind. Is it really true that your heart has sought mine with the same yearning all this time?

  I want with all my being to go in Dr Schmitt’s car to the hospital and see you. But my original reservations remain. I believe I am not your destiny. I wanted to protect you from a relationship that you should not be a part of.

  Dr Schmitt is adamant that you want to find me, however. He has begged me to come with him and see you at once.

  My heart is singing. I feel as if I must be the luckiest girl in the world to have you waiting for me. But I am more terrified than I have ever been in my life.

  Fresh guilt has washed over me. Have I caused you years of torment where you have been desperately unhappy too? My heart is breaking all over again. I hope you will forgive me.

  Dr Schmitt is calling me from the kitchen, urging me to come now. He is reiterating that you are a broken man, not from the collision with the car but from your exhaustive search for me these past years.

  Oh Lukas, I need to see you. Against my better judgement, I will see if we can truly be reunited.

  My heart is lifting almost out of my chest. The butterflies in my belly are alive and fluttering, letting me know I am about to redeem the greatest prize of all. Love.

  Hannah

  Nathalie felt as if her own heart would burst right out of her chest as she imagined what must have been going through her great-grandmother’s head right at that moment. The man she’d loved in her dreams for so long had come to find her.

  Squealing in delight, she reached for the next letter. It was the last one. This one was in an envelope. She almost wished she could savour the moment and keep hold of it until tomorrow. But she’d never been good at waiting, so she pulled it free from the envelope and read eagerly.

  My darling Lukas

  Today has been wondrous. I cannot believe you have found me and I have found you. By the time I reached the hospital earlier, I was having serious doubts. What if you saw me and decided you did not love me any more? I feared I would be a disappointment to you after all this time. I am not the same carefree girl you once knew. The froth and joy that I once owned has been obliterated.

  I am terrified that I may be too damaged for you to love. As I walked the shiny hospital floor towards your ward, my hands were shaking and my legs felt as if they were made of jelly.

  I stood for the longest time outside the door. I had to steel myself to go to you.

  There were eight beds in the room, but I saw you immediately, Lukas. All my nerves and previous worries melted away as our eyes met. All I could do was run to you.

  The other patients in the ward must have thought we were insane. The sound of sobbing and crooning as we were finally reunited must have been quite a spectacle.

  I know so much time has passed, but you felt instantly familiar to me. As your gentle hands closed around my face, I looked into your eyes and recognised what I saw. The look of pain mixed with love that poured from your very soul made me quiver. It mirrored exactly what I felt too.

  Lukas, I felt so ashamed as you asked me why I left you. You seemed so traumatised and troubled. Not for one minute did I believe you felt the same way I did. I honestly thought I was doing you a service by going
. I’m sorry, Lukas, I had no idea I was leaving you so devastated. It nearly killed me too, but I suppose I never truly dared to believe that you loved me as much as I loved you. There was nothing in it for you. I’m a Jew, a servant girl; you had everything going for you.

  Oh Lukas, when you said that all the titles, money and big houses in the world meant nothing without me … All I could do was stare at you, too frozen in the moment to even cry. That was when I realised that something had changed inside. For the first time in my life, I felt inner peace. All the fear and torture evaporated at that moment when you said you loved me.

  I am beside myself with joy. I can scarcely believe that you want the same things I do. You want us to go back to Brixental and find Clara. We leave tomorrow. As I write this letter, you are with Dr Schmitt organising papers so we can leave Austria. You fear that the political situation is still quite volatile and you want us to flee to safety. I would go to the ends of the earth if it means being with you, my love. I can’t express the relief I feel at knowing that you want to be with me and Clara. I have been accustomed to looking after myself, and the thought that you want to mind me is such a comfort.

  I know I should give you my letters now. After all, they are all addressed to you. I will show them to you in due course. That way you will know that I never forgot you or stopped loving you. Finding you once more has renewed my faith in humanity. Coupled with the incredible kind-heartedness of Dr and Frau Schmitt, I know that goodness is alive and well in this world. I will strive to look to the future, to move onwards and upwards and to put the images of suffering and hatred to one side. If you are by my side, I know I can achieve anything.

  I thank God for reuniting us and I look forward to the amazing times we are about to share.

  I have never stopped loving you in my dreams and now I will have the opportunity to show you just that. The exhilaration and delight that is flooding me now is so intense that I almost understand why I had to suffer so greatly these past eight years. Perhaps it was God’s way of ensuring that I appreciate all the wonder I know He will create in our new life together.

  The future has never looked so bright.

  Hannah

  Nathalie put the letter down and sighed. She couldn’t help smiling through her tears. How incredible that Lukas had been searching for Hannah all those years. She was sure that what they had had was true love in its purest form. It made her desperately sad that the two hearts could have been together all along and that perhaps Hannah might have avoided being taken to Bergen-Belsen. How would their story have panned out then?

  The tragedy of it choked her. Her emotions were spilling over, and all of a sudden she wanted to know so many things. How Oma had felt when her parents came to collect her … what she’d thought when they said they wanted to take her away. Had she known they were coming? Was she terrified?

  Nathalie paced up and down the room, willing Oma to return. She gazed out of the window, then opened it, straining her neck so she could see as far up the road as possible. There was no sign of her grandmother, so she grabbed her keys, locked the door and followed the directions Oma had given her to the graveyard.

  With each quickening step she thought of more questions that needed answers. She hoped Oma would be open to talking, that she was comfortable about baring her soul and explaining what had gone on at that time.

  As she jogged along the path that led to the grave, she felt such a rush of love for her grandmother. She’d been through a massive upheaval. How had she managed to bounce back and go on to live a normal life?

  As she entered the sprawling graveyard, Nathalie looked out for Clara. Not sure which way she ought to go, she ran to the left, her eyes scanning row after row of gravestones. There was no sign of Clara. Rushing back to the gate where she’d entered, she ran the opposite way. Her throat was dry, and she was ready to give up and go home when she spotted Clara in a far corner. She was about to call out to her, such was her excitement, when she was reminded by a passing lady with her head bowed solemnly that she was in a place of rest. Instead she rushed over. Clara was crouched at the grave, chatting as if she were sitting with someone living. Nathalie halted, not wanting to interrupt. Oma had her back to her. She moved her hands as she talked.

  ‘So I don’t know what to do, Gus,’ she was saying. ‘I know Nathalie will understand much of my story now. She knows about Mama and Papa and how they came together. But how do I break the news about Max?’

  Nathalie held her breath. She was about to step forward and tell Clara she was listening, but curiosity got the better of her. Without moving a muscle, she waited.

  ‘Max is still so angry. He hasn’t come over nor has he phoned me. If you could forgive me for having that affair, it would make sense that he could too. You were the most amazing father to him, Gus. He couldn’t say you weren’t. The fact that you weren’t his biological father meant nothing. You were the one who loved him, who taught him everything from riding a bike to knotting a tie. I still feel the weight of my guilt. You shouldn’t have died without seeing him. It’s all my fault …’

  Nathalie thought she was going to faint. An affair? Her grandmother had cheated on Gus, the supposed great love of her life? How could that be? Turning on her heel, she ran from the graveyard and back along the road. Her chest began to ache as she struggled to breathe. Bursting into the house, she bundled a few possessions into her rucksack, threw her key on to the table and pulled the door shut. She didn’t want to be here when Clara returned.

  Chapter 20

  Ava had taken some painkillers, which had helped massively with the physical pain. But nothing seemed to help with the whirring that was going on inside her head.

  Knowing she didn’t have to go near the shop, or anybody else for that matter, she opened a bottle of white wine. She hadn’t eaten anything, but she convinced herself that was actually a good thing in the circumstances.

  After the first glass, she felt a whole lot better. She flicked on the television and sat staring numbly at a chat show where people were shouting and condemning one another. She was pretty screwed up, and so were her family, but thankfully even they weren’t as bad as the crew on screen.

  She was halfway through her third glass when her landline rang. She winced. Very few people had that number. She leaned over and saw that it was Clara. Guessing that she was simply checking up on her, she let it go to voicemail.

  ‘Hi, Ava, it’s me.’ Clara sounded frantic. ‘I know you’re not well and you’re probably asleep, but you need to call me urgently. As soon as you get this message, please call me back—’

  ‘Mama?’ Ava snatched up the phone. ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Ava,’ Clara was breathing heavily, ‘is Nathalie with you?’

  ‘No … What’s going on?’

  ‘I think she’s gone. I’ve just returned from visiting your father’s grave and she’s not here. It looks like she left in an awful hurry. The drawers in her room are all pulled out and it looks as if she was acting frantically. I can’t think why. Unless she overheard … Oh my God, Ava, we have to find her.’

  ‘Why?’ Ava was confused. ‘What’s happened?’

  ‘I’ll explain later. We simply must find her.’

  ‘I have her mobile number. Let me call her and I’ll buzz you back,’ Ava said.

  Clara hung up and Ava dialled Nathalie’s cell. It went straight to voicemail. She hung up and tried again, to no avail, so she called her mother back.

  ’There’s no answer. I’ve left her a message, so hopefully she’ll call me back. What makes you think she’s run off?’

  Clara dropped her head into her hands. ‘I was at the grave and chatting to your father just now,’ she said. ‘I think she may have followed me. If she did, she would have overheard me talking …’

  ‘About what?’

  ‘The reason Max left.’

  ‘What do you mean, the real reason …’ Ava sounded strained.

  ‘Now isn’t the time to discuss this,�
� Clara said sounding panicked. ‘Ava, I have a horrid feeling at the pit of my stomach. If anything happens to that beautiful child, I’ll never forgive myself.’

  ‘What do you think we should do, then?’ Ava’s voice sounded pained.

  ‘I think we need to call the police, and then we should contact Max.’

  ‘No,’ Ava said loudly. ‘Whatever about the police, but don’t call Max yet.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘No,’ Ava said again. ‘He has a low enough opinion of us all. Let’s try and find her first. We don’t need him freaking out. Besides, what can he do from over there? Nothing. He’d just be in a state.’

  ‘All right, we’ll wait,’ Clara said.

  ‘Why don’t you call the police and I’ll have a quick shower and come over? I bet Nathalie will be back in no time.’

  Ava put the phone down and stood up. Her head was spinning and she wished she hadn’t drunk so much wine. Flailing towards the kitchen, she shoved two pieces of sliced bread into the toaster. She prayed that a hot shower and some soakage would sober her up. The thought of Nathalie out there alone, with nobody to turn to, scared the living daylights out of her.

  She thought back to how she herself might have coped in a strange land aged seventeen while dealing with a crisis. Her blood ran cold. Look at her now, and she was in her forties. She was still a bloody mess. What hope had Nathalie?

  Clara was speaking to a kind but firm man at Lochlann police station.

  ‘But she’s only seventeen and she really doesn’t know the area,’ she argued. ‘And I fear she’s distressed.’

  The policeman was patient and said they would absolutely alert the guards on duty, but that they couldn’t treat Nathalie as a missing person until she’d been gone a full twenty-four hours.

  ‘I’ve made a note of her details in the book and I promise we’ll call you should she present.’