by Ella Zeiss
He sat up and studied her face with interest.
‘She still has an aunt there and says she’s saved enough money to afford the move. Her aunt owns a house and they can stay there for a while until they find something of their own.’
‘And what about you? Do you want to go back too?’
Anna clasped and unclasped her hands. She didn’t know how to express all the contrary feelings she was experiencing. In the end, she said sadly, ‘I would really like to be able to go back and for everything to be the same as before, but that’s not possible. Our house is gone. Everything there that ever meant anything to us belongs to other people now. There is no place for us. We would have to start all over again.’
‘If you want to go anyway, if it would make you happy, we can try,’ he said earnestly.
She looked at him tenderly and could still see in his face the shadow of the guilt he had carried with him all these years. ‘This is our home now, the children are happy here, we have work and friends and a roof over our heads.’ The only thing that spoke in favour of a move was to get away from Eugen, although his influence seemed to be dwindling anyway, and there was no guarantee that the same thing wouldn’t happen somewhere else. Rumours were rife, news of traitors and agitators being arrested, found guilty and sentenced. The madness was rampant – some regions were worse than others but you weren’t really safe anywhere. She hadn’t forgotten how they had lost their home all that time ago on some flimsy excuse.
She shrugged. ‘I think I might be too old for new beginnings,’ she said with a rueful smile. ‘All I want is to belong somewhere, put down roots and build a future for the children.’
Wilhelm nodded and put his arm round her. ‘We’re doing that already, my darling. That’s exactly what we are doing.’
Chapter 17
January 1939, Aghstafa, Soviet Azerbaijan
Looking out of the train window, Harri recognised immediately the familiar figure of his father standing waiting for them on the station platform. Beside him, Emma started waving like mad as soon as she spotted him too. Their mother beamed with joy.
They had really done it. In just a few minutes their family would be reunited! Only now did Harri realise how much he had missed his father, how heavily the burden of responsibility in caring for his mother and sister had weighed upon his shoulders. How glad he was that he could share the burden with his father from now on.
The train screeched to a halt and Harri heaved open the heavy carriage door. A blast of fresh air hit him – it felt cool and much milder than he had expected.
Harri climbed down the narrow steps to the ground and turned back to grab the first suitcase his mother handed to him. He set it down and was about to reach out for the second one when his father joined him.
He squeezed Harri’s shoulder in appreciation. ‘I’ll get it,’ he said, and took the heavy piece of luggage. There was one more suitcase and then Emma flung her arms around Vater’s neck, squealing for joy. He swung her around, set her down carefully and held out his arms to embrace his whole family.
For a long while they simply stood there with their arms wrapped tightly round one another while people around them got on and off the train. It was only when the train whistle sounded that they broke up the happy reunion.
‘Come on, I’ve borrowed a horse and cart so we don’t have to walk all the way.’ He led them away from the tracks to where a small brown mare was hitched to a wooden cart.
‘Where are we going?’ Emma asked inquisitively after she had settled down on one of the cases on the floor of the cart. Mutter joined her there, while Harri was allowed to sit up next to the driver.
‘To Marxovka,’ Vater explained. ‘It’s a pretty village and most of the people there are our fellow countrymen. I really did buy the house I wrote to you about. I know you’re going to like it.’
While they were driving along, Harri looked at the countryside with interest. On both sides, to right and left, one huge, empty field followed another. ‘What do people grow here?’ he asked with curiosity.
‘Cotton,’ his father said. ‘In about two months it’ll be time to sow the fields and then I’ll be really busy.’
‘Why?’ Harri asked, looking at his father in confusion. ‘I thought you work in the warehouse?’
‘I do,’ his father smiled, ‘so I’m the one who allocates the seeds. I have to make sure that none are lost and that there are enough to go round.’
‘Have you talked to the school yet?’ Harri’s mother asked. Harri knew that she was hoping to work as a teacher again. He hoped so too. His mother seemed far too delicate to work in the fields.
‘Yes, I have.’ Vater paused. ‘Everything has been arranged for the children. They can start there right after the holidays – it’s only half an hour’s walk from our house – but they don’t seem to need any more teachers at the moment.’
‘Then I’ll just find something else,’ Mutter said, determined not to be discouraged.
‘I talked to our director, the head of our sovkhoz. He really is an impressive character – a hero of the civil war. He received all sorts of medals for special services and bravery including the Krasnoje Znamja – the second highest honour there is! He’s one of the very few people still allowed to carry their own gun. He even showed it to me once. It has his name engraved on it.’
Mutter gasped. ‘Isn’t it too dangerous? If he finds out you ran away, won’t he turn you in at once?’
‘I’m not exactly planning to advertise the fact, but apart from that, he’s a pretty good judge of character. I don’t get the impression that he’s someone who is easily influenced by others. We get on very well.’
‘I hope you’re right.’ Mutter didn’t sound too pleased. ‘You must never mention that to anyone ever, no matter what happens, is that clear?’ she said, turning to the children.
‘Of course we won’t,’ they said in unison. No one needed to spell out the danger they would face if new accusations were raised against them. Harri would never forget the moment he discovered that Onkel Otto had been shot, or the men from the GUGB searching their house, trying to find their father to seal his fate.
‘Anyway, I told Director Muradov about you,’ Vater continued, ‘and he thinks you might be able to find a position in quality control, dealing with cotton.’
‘But I don’t know anything about that.’
‘I know, but it isn’t all that difficult. He could provide you with some books and you’d learn the rest from the other workers there, if you’re willing to listen to them.’
‘I’ll do my best.’ Mutter smiled. ‘I always was interested in chemistry and biology.’ She stretched out her arm and pressed his hand. ‘I’m so glad we’re all together again.’
‘Me too.’ He laughed and shook the reins.
The next few days passed like lightning. Everyone did their part to spruce up the house. The stable had to be repaired so that the cow Vater had bought at the market was protected from the wind and rain. Harri went at it hammer and tongs, drawing sketches and making precise calculations of all the measurements before he even picked up a hammer or saw. He loved the combination of careful planning and craftsmanship and was pleased every time his estimates proved to be exact when it came to the practical part of the job. After two days, he proudly showed the finished repairs to his father and was rewarded with a look of admiration.
‘You’ll make a good engineer one day,’ Vater said, and patted him hard on the back. ‘Come on, let’s go and fetch the cow from the neighbours.’
Harri followed him next door, grinning from ear to ear.
‘When it’s spring, I’ll get us some chickens.’
‘And how about some rabbits?’ Harri asked hopefully as he stood in front of the neighbour’s hutches, which were teeming with little beasts in a whole range of colours.
‘We’ll see,’ Vater laughed, ‘but only if you build their hutches for them.’ Delighted, Harri nodded and immediately started planning the first
sketch in his mind.
The cow mooed loudly when she was led back into her own shed. Mutter and Emma watched from the window, from which a wonderful smell of baking drifted outside.
Harri looked around at his family and his new home with a sense of contentment. At last life was back to how it was supposed to be.
May 1939, Settlement Sor-El, Soviet Republic of Komi
‘I’m really not sure you should be going, Erich.’ Anna studied her son’s face with concern. He had been a little under the weather recently, complaining of being tired, looking pale and coughing a lot. Normally these symptoms wouldn’t worry her too much. Colds were an unpleasant part of life. She was more worried than usual, however, because he was planning to leave to visit Rita the following day and spend the summer there. Who would look after him if it turned out to be something worse than a harmless infection?
‘You can’t be serious, Mama!’ He glared at her angrily. ‘I’ve been looking forward to this for months and now you want to stop me because of a silly cough?’
‘No, of course not.’ She smiled to reassure him. ‘But I would feel happier if you went to see a doctor today, just to be on the safe side.’
Erich hesitated. She knew exactly what he was thinking. He was worried the doctor might find something wrong that would mean he had to stay at home. Maybe his condition wasn’t quite as harmless as he would have her believe after all.
‘Either you go to the doctor or I won’t let you travel.’
‘Papa?’ Looking for help, Erich turned to Wilhelm, who was drinking his morning cup of tea before going to work. Erich, Yvo and Anna were already off school and work because the summer holidays had started two days earlier.
Wilhelm looked earnestly back and forth between his wife and his son. ‘You go and see the doctor and if he can’t find anything seriously wrong with you, then of course you can leave tomorrow.’
Anna shot her husband a dissatisfied look. She was not happy with the idea of letting the boy out of her sight for almost three months, especially when he wasn’t quite well.
‘He’s not a child any more, darling,’ Wilhelm said with a shrug.
He’s only seventeen, she wanted to say, but held her tongue. Wilhelm was right. Erich wasn’t a child any more, even if she still found it difficult to regard him as an adult. Slowly but surely she was going to have to get used to the idea, no matter how hard she found it to do so. His apprenticeship would be finished in less than eighteen months, and he was still as determined as ever to move to where Rita was as soon as it was over. He was nearly a grown man; she couldn’t expect him to stay with her forever.
‘All right,’ she nodded reluctantly.
‘Why can’t I go too?’ Yvo piped up, sounding disgruntled. ‘I want to see Rita as well. Or even better, why can’t she come here to see us?’
‘Neither her aunt nor I want Rita to travel such a long distance on her own, and you can’t go, darling, because Rita’s aunt doesn’t have enough room to put you up as well. We also thought you wanted to stay and train for your gymnastics competition.’
Yvo sniffed. ‘It’s not that important.’
Wilhelm smiled. ‘You’re bound to see it differently when you’re standing on the winner’s podium with a medal round your neck.’
Yvo did her best to hide a smile of satisfaction at this thought, but she couldn’t. ‘Even so,’ she admitted grudgingly, ‘I still want to go somewhere different too.’
‘We could go away for a few days if you like,’ Wilhelm said out of the blue.
‘Really? Where to?’ Anna looked at her husband enquiringly.
‘Last week our mill was assigned several tickets for holiday trips and I managed to bag three of them. We’re going to the sea for a week!’ He looked at his family, beaming with joy.
It was quiet for a moment and then Yvo flung her arms around his neck, yelling with glee, ‘Is it really true?’
‘Yes!’
‘To a proper hotel?’ Anna asked, amazed.
‘With everything you can imagine. It’ll be too cold to swim, of course, but we’ll see the sea!’
Anna smiled. She could no longer remember the luxury of not having to cook or clean. The thought of being able to smell the sea again was almost intoxicating. Of course the cold Barents Sea was nothing like the wonderfully warm Black Sea, but it would be their first break from everyday life in almost ten years and she intended to enjoy every minute.
‘When do we leave?’
‘On the 11th of June, so there’s still plenty of time left to plan everything in detail.’
Erich coughed quietly, which brought Anna back down to earth with a bump. She checked the clock. ‘The medical centre opens soon. You should probably go now, Erich.’
‘All right,’ he groaned, and stood up.
Three hours later, while Anna and Yvo were busy yanking out the unruly weeds in the vegetable patch, Erich returned. ‘Everything is fine,’ he called with a reassuring wave. ‘The doctor didn’t see anything to worry about. He says a dry cough with no phlegm is nothing serious and thinks I should start feeling better soon.’ He grinned. ‘The Ukrainian sun in the beautiful south will do me the world of good.’
‘I hope so,’ Anna muttered as she watched him go into the house to get changed. He was so pale and with such dark rings around his eyes. Maybe he really did need more sun and some time to relax and slow down. She often thought his apprenticeship, together with all the homework and the long journey to and from school every day, was asking a lot of him. Still, if he wanted a safe and secure future there was no choice. At least he enjoyed his studies and it was a far better option than spending a lifetime toiling in the forest or on the fields regardless of the weather. A qualification was a good investment in the future.
She stood up and brushed the soil off her knees. No matter what the doctor said or how harmless he thought Eric’s cough might be, she was definitely going to give him a jar of sage honey. She wasn’t going to let it get serious or chronic.
August 1939, Aghstafa, Soviet Azerbaijan
‘Harri, don’t forget to clean out the rabbit hutches,’ his mother called, the very minute he sat down with his book in the shade of the apple tree.
Harri sighed. How annoying. He was beginning to regret wanting to keep all these small animals. Only once, he didn’t pay attention and accidentally put one of the males in with the three females he was planning to breed with and now he had more baby rabbits than he could cater for. Just that one time and now it felt as if he were spending the whole summer cleaning out hutches and looking after their darned inhabitants. He didn’t like to admit it, but he was really looking forward to the moment they would be big enough to slaughter. As much as he liked them all, there were far too many of them.
He heard Mutter telling Emma to take Vater his lunch. She was making a fuss because she was outside playing with a friend. Today was Sunday and normally a day off, but because the main harvest was due all the workers involved had been called in, including his father. They were lucky that Mutter hadn’t been asked as well. Her main duties would begin as soon as the cotton crop was picked and then she would be working non-stop for several weeks too.
Emma was still protesting, so Harri decided to seize the opportunity.
‘I can go, Mutter!’ he shouted, and ran into the kitchen. A walk to the nearby village was much more enticing than his current chore.
Mutter looked at him, bemused, and he did his best to keep a straight face.
‘All right,’ she said.
Harri sighed in relief.
‘But you still have to see to the rabbits when you get back.’
‘Yes, yes, yes,’ he grumbled, taking the basket she handed him. He set off at a leisurely pace; the longer he took, the more time he would have to himself.
The distance shrank just the same. The sun shining down on him was really hot, the sky blue as blue and there was a whole ’nother week before they went back to school. A year ago he would never have believ
ed that he could ever be this happy again.
Eventually the fields came to an end and the low buildings of the sovkhoz, the state farm, came into sight. Harri gave the guard at the gates a friendly wave. This wasn’t the first time he’d visited his father and everyone knew him. Two weeks ago he had helped with the cotton harvest for the first time along with most of his classmates from school.
Without thinking where he was going, his feet led him towards the large warehouse where his father spent most of his working day. Harri was surprised to see an army truck parked in front of the entrance.
He had a bad feeling about it at once. He’d seen motorised vehicles like this one before. The men from the secret police had arrived in one when they’d come looking for his father.
Harri looked around quickly. There was no one to be seen. With a beating heart, he crept closer and squeezed through the half-open door, then hid in the shadows behind some shelving.
Four men were standing in the middle of the warehouse. One of them was his father, one was Director Muradov, the head of the state farm whom Harri knew from previous visits. Harri had never seen the other two men before but there was no mistaking their GUGB uniforms. They must only just have arrived because they were busy checking Vater’s identity.
‘This is Comrade Pfeiffer,’ he heard Muradov state clearly. ‘Are you going to tell me what you want from him?’
Harri had never heard someone speak so confidently, bluntly even, to agents of the secret police before. His father was right: Director Muradov must be a very special person. He had never really thought about what it was like during the war but he could see why this man had won so many medals. There was probably nothing that could scare Muradov.
‘We have received indications suggesting that Samuel Pfeiffer is a national traitor.’ The GUGB man wasn’t going to be intimidated either.
‘And what kind of indications are we talking about here?’ Muradov enquired calmly.
The other man cleared his throat crossly. ‘We are not at liberty to divulge any such information. Our orders are to capture the suspect and hold him until such time as the commission can address the issue of his guilt.’
