by Ella Zeiss
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Text copyright © 2019 by Ella Zeiss
Translation copyright © 2019 by Helen MacCormac
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Previously published as Wie Gräser im Wind by Tinte & Feder in Germany in 2019. Translated from German by Helen MacCormac. First published in English by Lake Union Publishing in collaboration with Amazon Crossing in 2019.
Published by Lake Union Publishing, in collaboration with Amazon Crossing, Seattle
www.apub.com
Amazon, the Amazon logo, Lake Union Publishing and Amazon Crossing are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.
ISBN-13: 9781542015240
ISBN-10: 1542015243
Cover design by Charlotte Abrams-Simpson
Cover photography by Richard Jenkins Photography
First edition
CONTENTS
START READING
List of Main Characters
Prologue
PART ONE: DISPLACED
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
PART TWO: DRIVEN
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
GLOSSARY
A BRIEF INTRODUCTION TO RUSSIAN PATRONYMICS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ABOUT THE TRANSLATOR
Based on real events
For my grandparents, Yvo and Harald,
with all my love and admiration,
and in everlasting memory
List of Main Characters
The Scholz Family
Anna Friedrichovna Scholz
Wilhelm Danilovich Scholz – her husband
Erich Scholz – her son
Yvo Scholz – her daughter
Rita Hamann – her ward
The Pfeiffer Family
Harald/Harri Pfeiffer
Samuel Michailovich Pfeiffer – his father
Hilde Pfeiffer – his mother
Emma Pfeiffer – his sister
Prologue
Exhausted, Yvo rested her arms on the dark kitchen worktop and waited to catch her breath. Her body simply would no longer behave the way she wanted these days.
She loved Sundays, when the whole family gathered here, when her great-grandchildren’s laughter and the sound of their feet filled the usually quiet apartment with life, although she had to admit it was hard work – she was no spring chicken any more.
Her attention was drawn to the window and Harri standing outside picking raspberries with the children. She could see his fingers shake when he took hold of a juicy berry, and noticed how carefully he stepped from one foot to the other.
He was old too. Really old.
Almost as if he could feel her eyes watching him through the window, he turned his head and looked at her. Yvo smiled. His hair was thin and white, his skin deeply lined and marked with age, but the fire burning in his large dark eyes was the same as ever. His gaze was as full of love as it had been almost seventy years ago.
Shouts in the room next door put an end to her ponderings. Children’s feet clattered down the hall.
‘Uroma, what’s this?’ Yvonne burst into the kitchen all excited, with her two younger cousins right behind her. The girl held up a silver chain with a large pendant dangling from it, darkened with age.
‘Have you been digging in my jewellery box?’ Yvo asked. She shook her head disapprovingly, trying to disguise a smile.
‘But it’s full of such beautiful things,’ Miri said, sounding both eager and apologetic at the same time.
‘So what is it, Uroma?’ Yvonne wanted to know. ‘It must be ancient.’
‘It certainly is,’ Yvo said. Carefully she took the chain from the child and gently ran her fingers along the delicate wrought metal, feeling for the hidden catch.
How long had it been since she’d last set eyes on it, how long since she’d held it in her hands?
‘It used to belong to my great-great-great-grandmother,’ Yvo explained when she saw that the girls were waiting for an answer. ‘This necklace is more than two hundred years old. My ancestors took it with them when they left Germany to seek a better future elsewhere – a keepsake to remind them of home.’ Her voice petered out and she took a deep breath.
Suddenly she was inundated with long-forgotten images.
The necklace had been halfway round the world and back again, with them through all the suffering and injustice as well as in the happiest of times.
PART ONE: DISPLACED
Chapter 1
1930, German Settlement on the Crimean Peninsula, Soviet Union
The loud roar of a car engine made Anna jump. No one in their village owned a car. The sound could mean only one thing.
Filled with a dark sense of foreboding, she quickly wiped her hands on her long apron, covered in flour from kneading the bread, and ran over to the window.
Sure enough, a truck was moving down the main village road. Sitting inside were three armed men from the People’s Commissariat for Internal Affairs.
Anna caught her breath. Even Yvo, who was playing with her building bricks in the corner, seemed to sense that something was wrong and grew very quiet.
Worried, Erich looked up from his homework. ‘Mama?’
‘Shush!’ Begging for silence, Anna lifted her hand and held her breath until the truck had driven past their front door and she could let out a sigh of relief. Nervously she watched it move on, then felt a huge block of ice in her stomach when the vehicle halted abruptly in front of the pastor’s house. It was a bad sign.
They heard shouts from outside. Apparently the men were being denied entry.
‘Mama, what’s going on?’ Anxiously Erich came over to her and tried to steal a glimpse out of the window. Yvo toddled over too, and hugged her knee.
Anna was shaking. She wrapped a woollen shawl around her shoulders and looked at the children uncertainly. Dare she step outside and interfere?
She took a deep breath. Surely she’d be safe enough? The men were obviously after Father Friedrich this time, but what about Rita? She couldn’t let the security militia take the pastor’s small daughter with them as well and put her in an orphanage somewhere.
She gazed seriously down at her son and he looked back steadily with more knowledge in his eyes than an eight-year-old should rightly have.
‘Erich, you stay here with Yvo. Do you understand?’
He nodded haltingly.
‘And no matter what happens, stay inside the house.’
‘Yes, Mama.’ He nodded again and bravely took hold of his little sister’s hand. ‘Come on, Yvo. Let’s build a huge tower of bricks.’
Anna watched him gratefully for a moment and then slipped out of the house. She was just in time to see the door of the vicarage open and Friedrich
Hamann step outside looking calm and composed. Quickly she hid behind a tree standing in the garden of the house next door.
Anna’s heart sank. Friedrich knew what was going to happen, and so did she. If he was lucky, he’d get ten years in a Siberian labour camp.
One of the men, seemingly the one in charge, grabbed Friedrich’s arm roughly and started dragging him towards the truck. ‘What took so long? Trying to hide the evidence? It won’t do you any good, you know – you were obviously up to something in there.’
Friedrich snatched his arm back with great dignity. ‘How can I destroy the evidence, if I don’t know what I’m supposed to have done?’
‘We can help you there,’ the man said, pulling an official-looking document from his bag. ‘Friedrich Hamann, you are hereby arrested for spreading anti-Soviet propaganda and for crimes against the people.’
The pastor’s face didn’t even twitch.
It didn’t matter what the charges were. The verdict was inevitable. He was an influential man in a community where people refused to give up their property despite the threat of dispossession and the horrendous taxes everyone was forced to pay. That was more than enough to attract the displeasure of the authorities, who didn’t care that anything owned by the people here came from hard work and stubborn perseverance on a daily basis.
‘I did not commit these crimes,’ Friedrich said calmly. ‘I am a man of God.’
‘You’re a disgrace!’ the man on the left said, and punched him in the stomach. ‘There’s no place for people like you in the new world order.’ His comrades grinned.
‘I’ll come with you if I must.’
Anna bit her lip to stop herself from sobbing out loud. Friedrich was her best friend’s husband. Berta had died barely a year ago. They had spent so many evenings laughing and joking or singing together. She couldn’t believe that this life-loving and passionate man was prepared to surrender without putting up a fight.
‘We’re not going yet,’ the man replied. ‘We’ll take a little look inside to see what you were hiding before we leave.’
Friedrich looked worried for the first time since he’d come out, and suddenly Anna realised why he had taken so long to open the door to the security militia – it was because of Rita. He must have hidden her somewhere. That was why he was staying so calm – he hoped they were only after him and would leave his daughter alone, but he hadn’t reckoned on their greed. If there was anything worth having inside, these loyal workers for the security commission wanted to know about it.
‘There’s nothing left in the house,’ Friedrich shouted, sounding desperate, but the men ignored him. ‘Keep him covered,’ the leader ordered the youngest of the three. ‘We’ll check indoors.’
The young man looked at Friedrich nervously and his fingers played with the grip of his gun. He couldn’t have been with them for long.
Friedrich closed his eyes and even from where she was hiding, Anna could see his lips moving silently.
She dug her fingernails into the bark of the tree and joined him in silent prayer.
Please, Lord, let the men not find Rita. And have mercy on Friedrich.
But this time their prayers were not answered.
A high-pitched scream sounded from within the house and Friedrich’s eyes widened in fear. He lunged forward as though about to storm back into the house.
‘Don’t move!’ the young recruit shouted, taking aim.
‘OK, OK!’ Friedrich said, putting his hands up.
The next minute, the two men reappeared at the door with a totally terrified six-year-old between them.
‘Papa!’ Rita screeched, charging towards him.
Friedrich dropped to one knee and threw his arms around her.
‘Papa, I tried to hide,’ the little girl sobbed hysterically, ‘but the men found me all the same. I really did try.’
‘I know,’ Friedrich said, hugging his child tightly while his eyes brimmed with tears. ‘It’ll be all right, everything is going to be all right.’
‘Enough of this!’ the leader shouted, and dragged him to his feet.
‘Papa!’ Panicking, Rita tried to cling to him.
‘Don’t worry. I have to go with these men now, but I’ll be back very soon, I’m sure.’
‘No!’ The girl stared at the men with a look full of fear, confusion and stubbornness all mixed into one. ‘What about me?’ she cried. She had finally grasped the enormity of the situation she was in.
‘You’re going to a home,’ the leader said gruffly, hauling her away from Friedrich.
‘Papa?’ Rita looked so frightened. It was clear she couldn’t understand the Russian words the man had spoken. She screamed again as he pulled her further away, trying to fight him off with her feet and hands. ‘PAPA!’
‘Shut up!’ The man slapped her so hard that Rita was thrown to the ground.
‘Leave her alone!’ Friedrich thundered, and rushed towards his daughter.
A shot rang out.
Anna took a moment to understand what was going on. Friedrich lay on the ground, his daughter almost buried beneath him, her face as white as a sheet. A large bloodstain was rapidly spreading across his back.
‘He . . . he was going to flee,’ the young recruit stammered, looking shocked, the smoking revolver in his hand. ‘You . . . you all saw that, didn’t you?’
The leader shrugged indifferently. ‘Of course we did. A shot in the back is exactly what that traitor deserved.’
‘Papa? Papa?’ Rita’s voice was barely a whisper.
Dear Lord, why won’t anyone help her? The tears ran down Anna’s face unchecked. She looked around, searching for help, but she knew that her neighbours feared for their families as much as she did. That was why no one had dared come outside yet, although she was certain that everyone was watching in horror as this atrocity unfolded. There was nothing the women could do and the men were still out in the fields. Maybe that was a good thing. There could easily have been more bloodshed.
Anna saw Rita stand up, looking completely distraught, after one of the men kicked the body of her father away. She seemed unable to grasp what was going on.
Before she knew what she was doing, Anna ran out of her hiding place and gathered the shocked child into her arms. She felt Rita slump against her gratefully, felt her hold on to her thigh to steady herself, and knew she couldn’t leave the child unprotected.
‘Papa . . .?’ Rita’s shoulders started to shake.
‘Shush now.’ Anna gently stroked the little girl’s hair, desperately hoping she hadn’t made a fatal mistake.
‘Your name?’ The leader looked at her severely.
Anna swallowed hard. ‘Anna Scholz.’
‘Well then, Comrade Scholz, what can we do for you?’
‘This girl’s aunt lives in the Ukraine. We can look after her until someone comes to fetch her.’
The man thought about it for a moment, then shrugged again as if he couldn’t care less. ‘If you want,’ he said. ‘That’s one less pain in the neck for us to worry about.’ Then he leaned over the dead pastor and checked for a pulse. ‘Write this down,’ he said to the second man a moment later. ‘Date of death: 27th September 1930. Detained for spreading anti-Soviet propaganda and crimes against the people. Shot on the run.’
When he was finished, he frowned at Anna. She didn’t dare move a muscle.
‘You can pack a few things for the child. The traitor’s other belongings are confiscated with immediate effect. The authorities will send someone to deal with this tomorrow.’
‘And what about . . .?’ Shaking, Anna pointed to Friedrich’s lifeless body.
‘He’s coming with us.’
She nodded. She would have liked to have organised a proper Christian burial for Friedrich, but didn’t dare contradict the man. She had put herself in enough danger already, just by standing up for Rita. Speaking out in favour of a traitor was too risky.
‘Thank you, Comrade.’ Anna forced a smile.
Ri
ta tried to escape from Anna’s arms when the men heaved the body of her dead father onto the back of the truck, but Anna held on to her with all her might. ‘Don’t look, darling,’ she whispered in her ear. ‘Don’t look.’
But she herself was unable to turn her eyes away, even once the men had driven off. Stunned, she watched them disappear from view, knowing that the image of Friedrich’s lifeless body flung carelessly into the back of the truck would haunt her nightmares for a long time to come.
‘Let’s go, sweetheart,’ she said softly to Rita.
The little girl’s trusting face gazed up at her. ‘Where are we going?’
‘Home.’ Anna smiled at her encouragingly. ‘You’ll be staying with us for a while.’
Rita nodded and slipped her cold little hand into Anna’s as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
‘Anna, darling, is everything all right?’ Wilhelm burst through the back door looking worried. ‘I’ve only just heard.’
‘I’m fine.’ It was a comfort to lean her head against his chest and feel his reassuring presence.
‘I’m so sorry I wasn’t there . . .’
She shook her head vigorously. ‘There was nothing you could have done.’
Wilhelm lowered his eyes. There was no answer to that.
They were powerless, at the mercy of the authorities for better or worse. Ever since Germany had fought against Russia in the Great War, Russian Germans had been viewed with suspicion. They had been regarded as enemies in their own land for most of the time, although they had never done any harm. All they wanted was to live in peace.
‘You should never have put yourself in so much danger,’ Wilhelm said, distracting Anna from her morbid thoughts.
She clenched her teeth. ‘I couldn’t just leave Rita to fend for herself.’
‘I know,’ he said, stroking her cheek. The rough skin of his fingers gently rasped her skin and she felt herself soften at his touch. She took hold of his hand and squeezed it tight. It was calloused and strong – the hand of a farmer.
And yet he’d never wanted to be anything but an engineer. Ever since he was a boy he’d dreamed of developing agricultural machines for the company his father owned, but fate had decided otherwise. The company and lands owned by the once wealthy and influential Scholz family were long gone – seized in the throes of the Russian Revolution, which had marked the beginning of the rule of the people.
