by Ella Zeiss
Anna took her sewing basket out of the cupboard and swiftly detached the ceramic head from its padded shoulders with a few careful snips of her scissors.
‘What are you doing?’ Rita stared at her foster-mother and her eyes filled with tears. ‘Why did you break her?’
Looking worried, Yvo stopped playing with the necklace.
Anna smiled comfortingly. ‘It’s all right. I’ll make her better in just a minute.’ Then she lowered her voice in a conspiratorial tone. ‘This is our little secret.’
‘What is?’
‘You’ll find out in a minute. Promise you won’t tell anyone what I did?’
‘Not even Erich?’ Rita’s eyes widened and Anna did her best to hide her amused smile.
‘Not even Erich,’ she said. If Rita was allowed to tell one person then she might do so again. ‘Now then, do you promise?’
The little girl nodded seriously.
‘Then watch this.’ Deftly Anna plucked some of the fluffy stuffing out of the body of the doll and placed the silver cutlery inside instead. She tugged and adjusted the insides of the doll, shaking it again and again until she was sure that the spoons and forks wouldn’t rattle. When at last she was satisfied, she replaced the head and carefully sewed it back onto the neck.
‘So what do you say?’ Smiling, she showed her work to Rita.
The child picked up the doll with two hands, turning it upside down and then shaking it hard. ‘She’s as good as new,’ she said in the end. ‘A bit heavier than before, but not much. Should I put her back in the corner?’
Anna nodded. She watched the girl, who hadn’t questioned the meaning behind the actions. Although they preferred not to believe it, the children often understood far more than the grown-ups thought they did.
Anna turned round sharply when she heard the front door rattle. She took the pendant away from Yvo, ignoring her daughter’s wail of protest, and put it back in the casket with the rest of the jewellery.
‘Mama?’ Erich’s voice called from the kitchen and she sighed with relief. When did she become so jumpy? Quickly she returned the casket to its hiding place before hurrying to see her son, who had just got back from school.
‘Mama, I met the postman!’ He was waving a letter. ‘I think it’s from Rita’s aunt.’
Out of the corner of her eye, Anna saw Rita suddenly freeze, as she impatiently tore open the envelope.
Beaming, Erich hurried over to her. ‘Rita, your aunt has written at last. I bet she’ll be able to come and get you very soon.’
‘But . . .’ Rita looked at him in misery and her eyes filled with tears again. ‘But then I’ll have to leave.’
‘Oh.’ Surprised, Erich stopped in his tracks. He obviously hadn’t thought about this before. He tried to cheer the girl up. ‘But don’t you want to be with your family? Your auntie is bound to be lovely.’
‘Maybe,’ she said, sniffing bravely.
‘I’m sure she is,’ he said, patting her arm to comfort her. ‘You’ll see. I bet it’s wonderful there and you can come and visit us as often as you like. Isn’t that right, Mama?’ For the first time he sounded slightly unsure. ‘Rita’s going to visit us a lot, isn’t she?’
‘As often as possible,’ Anna said diplomatically. She didn’t want to disappoint the children, but it would be wrong to give them too much hope of lots of reunions.
Erich was satisfied though. ‘You see?’
‘Why do I have to go away at all? Don’t you like me any more?’ Rita came forward and looked up at Anna sadly.
‘Oh, sweetheart,’ Anna said, pulling the child into her arms and hugging her. ‘Of course we like you, but you can’t stay here forever. Your aunt loves you very much and is looking forward to having you, and I think you’ll be safer with her than with us.’ Anna knew she didn’t have to explain what she was referring to.
Rita nodded reluctantly. ‘So when do I have to leave?’
‘Your aunt says that she will be here in two weeks’ time to pick you up.’
‘I can’t even remember what she looks like.’
Anna stroked her head gently. ‘Don’t worry, we’ll recognise her, but you remember Gerta and Hannes, don’t you?’
Rita’s face brightened up at the mention of her two cousins. ‘Yes, they came when Mama died. They’re nice.’
‘There you are, you see,’ Erich said encouragingly. He seemed genuinely relieved that his little foster-sister had cheered up a bit.
‘So what do you say then, Rita? How about making you a new dress for when your auntie comes? I’ve got some material left over that would really suit you.’ Anna smiled as Rita’s eyes started to sparkle with excitement. Her suggestion had done the trick and chased away the last few clouds on the little girl’s face. ‘I’ll get it right away.’
Still smiling, she went into her bedroom. It was such a comfort to know how easy it was to make children happy most of the time.
The moment Wilhelm came home that night, Anna knew something was wrong. She had seldom seen her husband this angry. She hurried the children outside to play and handed him a large cup of strong black tea with a generous helping of sugar. She knew how he liked his tea best.
This time Wilhelm put the cup down on the table without even noticing it, and just stared around the neat and tidy kitchen, his hands bunched into fists, as if he were looking for something to thump.
Half worried, half amused, Anna watched her husband for a moment, then went over and touched his shoulder softly. ‘Go on then, tell me.’ She could feel him start to relax under her touch and the corner of his mouth twitched.
‘Is it that obvious?’
‘What happened?’
He looked at her closely for a long moment, as if wondering what to say, and then without a word crossed over to the open kitchen window and closed it carefully before checking the door. ‘I had a visit from a commissioner today.’
Anna’s heart missed a beat. ‘What did he want?’
‘It seems as if our new neighbours’ – he almost spat out the last word – ‘have applied to found a kolkhoz.’
Anna nodded – that made sense. Someone with nothing to their name would profit from a collective farm. ‘And what does this have to do with you?’
‘I was invited to join them!’ He had to force the words out.
Anna turned white. This was as good as being dispossessed. They would have to sign over all their property and land to the kolkhoz and would be left with nothing other than the wages they earned for their work.
‘What did you say?’
He looked at her darkly. ‘Well, what could I say? What sort of answer is there to such an insulting question?’
Anna dug her nails into the cloth of her apron. Her insides were turning to ice. ‘You didn’t say that, did you?’
‘Of course not.’ He looked at her again and seemed to realise just how much he was scaring her. ‘Of course not,’ he repeated more gently and put a comforting arm round her shoulders. ‘I promised you I’d be careful. I haven’t done anything reckless yet. I wasn’t even going to tell you about it. I don’t want you worrying about things when you don’t have to.’
She nodded bravely. ‘And what did the commissioner say?’
‘I explained that our village doesn’t need a collective farm at this point, as the independent farms make a good return and the new arrivals can rely on us for support as things are. He seemed fairly reasonable. We even shared a joke or two and before he left, I gave him a small sack of potatoes for his wife.’
‘Do you think they’ll form a kolkhoz anyway?’
Wilhelm shrugged uncertainly. ‘It’s always possible. It’s not just the new villagers – some of the small farms and fieldworkers have said they’d be in favour of them.’ He snorted bitterly. ‘That’s just about anyone and everyone who doesn’t own a scrap and wants to profit from other people’s property. Well, that won’t work with me! We paid for our land with hard-earned cash and as far as I know, there isn’t a law that can force us to g
ive it up.’
Anna unwound her cramped fingers. Wilhelm was right – he had done absolutely nothing wrong. Everything was just fine. But she couldn’t stop the nervous shiver that ran down her body all of a sudden.
Chapter 3
The sound of banging on the door tore Anna out of her sleep. She sat up in fright, her heart beating wildly, and grabbed hold of Wilhelm’s arm in the dark.
A fist battered again on the door.
The frightened voices of the children came through from the next room. ‘Mama?’ Yvo started to cry.
Anna’s eyes widened in horror as she stared at her husband, her mind unwilling to grasp what this disturbance in the middle of the night could mean, must mean.
Wilhelm leapt out of bed and pulled on his trousers. ‘Calm the children. I’ll go and see what this is all about.’
Anna nodded and ran through to the children’s bedroom. ‘Hush now, everything’s fine,’ she told them in whispers, although she knew it wasn’t true.
She hugged the girls tightly as Wilhelm opened the front door. Erich stood next to her looking pale and controlled, and she pulled him into her arms too. ‘Everything’s all right,’ she repeated, desperately straining her ears to hear what was going on at the door.
‘Wilhelm Scholz, your refusal to hand over your property and your labour to the collective farm makes you a kulak and a Trotskyist. Your actions contradict our socialist sentiments. Thus, by decision of the Central Commissariat, your entire property hereby falls to the kolkhoz. You and your family will be relocated to Luza in the Republic of Komi, where you can make an honest contribution for the good of the Soviet Union.’
Komi in the Far North. Anna’s heart froze and she felt herself start to panic. This couldn’t be happening. It simply couldn’t be true.
‘You can’t do that!’ Wilhelm answered, outraged, and Anna prayed that he wouldn’t do anything rash.
‘You and your family have half an hour to pack,’ was the only answer he received.
Half an hour! And they would have to leave behind everything they cared about and valued. As soon as she realised this, she leapt to her feet. She was not going to give in to fear and despair.
‘Erich, Rita, get dressed!’ She grabbed Yvo, who protested, and whisked off her nightclothes as fast as she could.
‘Move!’ she urged the two older children, who were too scared to do a thing. ‘Get your warmest things.’
The North. Just before winter. With three young children.
The sentences reverberated round and round inside her head.
‘Put your hat on, Erich!’ she ordered her son.
‘But it’s too warm . . .’
‘Put it on!’ she snapped, and a hurt look spread across his face. He wasn’t used to being scolded by her but there was no time for discussion.
Thankfully she had packed the suitcases with their most important belongings days ago, when Wilhelm had told her about his meeting with the commissioner. She had kept telling herself that it was just a precautionary measure – had even smiled at her anxiety, refusing to believe they would ever need them. That very anxiety had now proved to be wise foresight.
Anna hurried into the bedroom to get dressed herself. Just like her children, she made sure she put on as many layers of clothing as possible in the hope that it would be enough to stay warm in the harsh winter ahead.
She blocked out all thoughts about how meagre their chances of survival were. The Far North – the country’s worst nightmare – had caught up with them now. Young Yvo, brave Erich and sweet Rita – how would they ever make it?
Wilhelm came out of the pantry with a rucksack full of supplies.
‘Water – we must take water,’ Anna muttered, handing him his large canteen bottle. He took it without looking at her and hurried outside to fill it up in the well.
One bottle of water and a rucksack of supplies for a whole family on a journey to an unknown destination that would probably last for weeks. Anna swallowed, and felt the panic about to rise again, but fought it with all her might. She couldn’t afford any weakness on her part.
‘Ready?’ a coarse voice shouted from outside.
Frantically Anna looked around the room. What else? What else could they possibly take? Her eyes fell on the sewing machine. Without thinking what she was doing, she grabbed it and put it in a bag. It was worth a try. If they took it away, there was nothing she could do, but she wasn’t just going to leave it behind. She dashed back into the bedroom and threw a few items of laundry on top, so it wouldn’t be noticed so easily.
Men marched impatiently into the house, the badges of the OGPU on their jackets – the dreaded secret police.
‘Out!’ one of them shouted at Erich, who was standing forlornly in the kitchen, bravely holding the two sobbing little girls by the hand.
Wilhelm stepped towards them, carrying two suitcases and the rucksack on his back.
Wistfully Anna looked around for the last time, saying goodbye to her home and trying to capture forever in her heart the image of the three children standing there. In only a few days’ time, Rita’s aunt would have been here to take her in. Just a few more days and the child would have been safe.
But maybe there was still hope. She would rather not leave Rita with these men, but the girl would be safer in an orphanage until her aunt arrived than going with them, and there would be one less mouth to feed.
Taking Rita firmly by the hand, she went over to the men. ‘We’re ready,’ she said, ‘but this girl isn’t ours. This is Rita Hamann – she’s not related to us. Her aunt is coming to pick her up.’
Rita stared at Anna with huge eyes, red from crying.
‘She doesn’t belong to us,’ Anna said again in a firm voice when the men showed no sign of reaction. ‘Please,’ she said, and pushed the girl gently forward.
The member of the secret police looked at her with narrow eyes. ‘You seem awfully worried about the fate of this girl, Comrade Scholz, but we know your tricks. You’ll use any means to save your offspring from their deserved fate.’
‘This is Rita Hamann,’ Anna said desperately. ‘Her father . . . died . . . a few weeks ago.’ She just managed to stop herself from saying that he had been shot dead. She looked at the men’s faces more closely, but none of them had been there on that terrible day.
‘There’s no time for this,’ the leader decided gruffly. ‘Your train departs in a few hours.’ Then he seemed to make a connection. ‘Hamann, you say?’ he murmured thoughtfully. ‘I know all about that case. Her father was a traitor to the people and got shot on the run, and now the girl’s associating with kulaks – you’re all the same. But don’t you worry, she’ll be put on the glorious path of socialism in Luza all right.’
‘Please, she’s just a little child,’ Anna implored, staring at the men surrounding her. At least some of them had the decency to lower their eyes.
‘Enough of this – get on the truck!’ The leader grabbed her arm roughly and yanked her out of the house.
‘Let her go!’ Wilhelm thundered behind her.
‘Is there a problem, Comrade?’ The man stared at him challengingly. Anna could tell that it would only take one false move, one wrong word, and the situation would escalate.
‘Willi, don’t,’ she whispered fiercely, and was relieved to see the tension leave her husband’s shoulders.
‘No, no problem,’ he mumbled in defeat.
‘Right. Get in then.’
Wilhelm helped Anna climb up onto the truck and then passed the children to her one by one, before he heaved up their luggage and finally climbed up himself. The tailgate was closed and they headed off on the clanking truck.
Anna put her arms around the children and hugged them tight while they cuddled up to her trustingly. Their small warm bodies gave her strength. She knew that for their sakes she would be able to survive anything, cope with everything that was to come.
She couldn’t take her eyes off her home. As it slowly disappeared, she sen
t a feverish prayer to heaven. ‘Dear God, please stand by us and guard over us. Please protect us and the children.’ She murmured so quietly that the GPU man couldn’t hear her.
Her eyes stayed glued to the horizon long after their house had disappeared, as she said goodbye to what had probably been the happiest time of her life.
‘Mama, where are we going?’ Erich’s timorous voice put an end to her thoughts in this direction.
The girls had been rocked to sleep by the low rumble of the truck, but her son was doggedly fighting off his tiredness. His face was clouded with fear. She could tell that she wouldn’t be able to fob him off with a half-baked explanation.
She leaned forward and pressed a kiss on his forehead. ‘We’re going away, Erich. Very far away.’
‘And when are we going to come back?’
‘Never,’ she said, biting her lip to stop the tears from welling up inside her. It was so painful to say it, to hear the finality of those words.
They hadn’t merely been banned for five or ten years like common criminals. Their crime – the fact that they were still well-off compared to so many others – meant they would be punished forever.
‘Never?’ Tears glittered in her son’s blue eyes.
‘No.’ She smiled at him lovingly and stroked his fringe of blond hair out of his eyes. ‘But we’ll build ourselves a new home somewhere else. So long as we’re all together, nothing can happen to us. Don’t worry, sweetheart. Try and get some sleep.’
Erich nodded earnestly. Her little man. He was so young and already so sensible. She patted his shoulder reassuringly and obediently he closed his eyes.
Only then did Anna dare raise her eyes and look at her husband, who was slumped down opposite her looking pale and gaunt. In his gaze she saw the same determination and despair that she felt, but his was also filled with infinite remorse.
‘I am so sorry,’ he whispered quietly, and reached out to touch her knee with an unsteady hand.
Anna gently shook her head. ‘It’s not your fault,’ she murmured.
She didn’t want him to torment himself with accusations, didn’t want him to feel responsible for something that had been decided by the heads of the central committee, and she hoped that she wouldn’t end up blaming him in the end. It wasn’t his fault, but it was his decision that had brought them to where they were now, his refusal to give away what had now been taken by force. If he had agreed to being dispossessed, they would have been safe still at least, allowed to live in their old home, but now . . .
