The Star and the Shamrock

by Jean Grainger

  ‘I don’t, I’m afraid. I’ve never even been to Southern Ireland.’

  ‘How come? It’s only a hundred miles south?’ Ruth seemed surprised.

  ‘Well, my parents weren’t much for travel, and I moved to England to train as a teacher when I was just seventeen. I met my husband there, and we married, and I never returned.’

  ‘And someone said your husband was Jewish?’

  ‘Yes, Rudi Klein. He was originally German – well, his family were, I think, going way back – but his great-grandfather came over to Britain sometime in the last century. Rudi was a lot more Liverpudlian than German.’ She smiled at the memory of his Scouse accent. ‘He was killed in the First War.’ Elizabeth dried the beautiful silver platters carefully, placing them on the shelf Ruth indicated.

  ‘And you never remarried?’ Ruth certainly was inquisitive, but Elizabeth didn’t mind; everyone knew her story anyway.

  ‘No, I never did.’ She tried to shift the focus from herself. ‘How about you? Are you married?’

  Ruth looked to be in her late twenties, or thirty at the most. She was dark featured, and while she wasn’t heavy, she would be as she aged. ‘Solid’ was how Margaret would have described her, and she had big hazel eyes and thick almost-black hair tied back in a heavy plait down her back. She was attractive in a way, Elizabeth thought, but there was a sharpness to her that was hard to describe. She seemed a little on edge, belligerent or something.

  ‘No, not yet, but I’m hoping to be.’ Ruth paused as if weighing what she was going to say next. She looked like she was about to say something else when Talia stuck her head around the door of the makeshift scullery.

  ‘Need any help?’ she asked, smiling. ‘Ah, you’re almost finished. Sorry. I should have come sooner.’ And she was gone.

  ‘Typical,’ Ruth muttered. From body language alone, it was clear there was no love lost between the two women.

  ‘Talia is doing a wonderful job with the children in school,’ Elizabeth said to lighten the mood.

  ‘I’m sure she is. Though I suspect the bus driver is more of an attraction for her than the kids.’

  Elizabeth was taken aback at the other woman’s tone. Talia had more or less said she and Daniel were more than just friends a few times, but Ruth did not seem to be happy about it.

  ‘But Talia and Daniel are close, aren’t they?’ She couldn’t stop herself.

  ‘Well, if by that you mean she’s always hanging around him and trying to make it look like they are together, then yes. Just because they’re both from Vienna… I mean, they didn’t even know each other before coming here. Daniel has no interest in her, despite her less-than-subtle efforts,’ she said as she wiped the sink. Elizabeth felt a slight relief.

  Ruth looked to Elizabeth for a second. ‘You’ve no idea, do you?’

  ‘About what?’ Elizabeth asked, confused.

  ‘Daniel.’

  ‘What about him?’

  ‘He doesn’t like Talia, not like that. He likes you. It’s obvious – anyone with eyes can see the way he looks at you.’

  Elizabeth blushed but was spared answering by Erich’s arrival. ‘There you are! I was looking everywhere,’ he said.

  She saw that his eyes were suspiciously bright. She put down the cloth, and immediately, he ran into her arms.

  ‘I thought you were gone, and one of the boys said that you’d leave us here because we were Jews and you’re not…’ He was sobbing now, a combination of anxiety and relief.

  She crouched so she was eye level with him. Her hands gently cupped his head, and their eyes locked. She didn’t care that Ruth was still there.

  ‘Listen to me, Erich Bannon. You are my son until one or both of your parents arrive. Only then will I be willing to let you go, my darling boy. You must believe this, no matter what anyone says. You and Liesl are my and Ariella’s and Peter’s children. And until you can live with your mutti and papa, you stay with me and I will never, ever leave you.’ She looked into his eyes and whispered, ‘Do you trust me?’

  As she searched his distraught little face, he nodded slowly.

  ‘So there is nothing to worry about. I won’t ever leave you. Never. No matter what.’

  ‘And what if Hitler’s men come and take me and Liesl away?’ Erich asked, not for the first time.

  ‘Didn’t you hear Mr Churchill last summer? If the Nazis try to come here, we will fight them on the beaches, in the fields, on the streets. We will never surrender.’ Her eyes blazed with passion and love.

  ‘None of us – not me, not you and Liesl, not Ruth here, or Daniel or Rabbi Frank, or any of the boys and girls in the school or their families – none of us would let that happen, so we’ll stick together, and he will not win, Erich.’

  ‘But people didn’t want to give in in Germany, and they had to because the Nazis are too powerful…’ Erich was still unsure.

  ‘The good people in Germany didn’t know what he was going to do – it took them by surprise. By the time they knew what he really was, it was too late to stand up to him. But we know what his plan is over here, and we’ll be ready for him if he does try to come. Isn’t that right, Ruth?’

  Ruth looked startled to be included, but she took her cue from Elizabeth. ‘Absolutely, Erich, and you know what? Here in Ireland, we’ve been fighting the English for years and years, and we’re really good at it, so we’ll be more than a match for a silly little man with a silly little moustache.’ She giggled, and Erich gave a ghost of a smile.

  ‘Now, we’d better get home, I think.’ Elizabeth gave Ruth back the apron. ‘It was lovely to meet you, Ruth.’

  Daniel was waiting to drive her home, and once again, he held the door open for her. Ruth’s revelation loomed large in her mind. Was the other woman right? Did Daniel have feelings for her? Terrified this new information would be somehow evident on her face, she chose to sit in the back seat with Erich and Liesl. Within a few moments, both children fell asleep leaning against her. She held their warm bodies close, kissing their heads. In the silence, she mulled over what Ruth had said again.

  They had driven a mile or two before Daniel spoke, his eyes on hers from the rear-view mirror. ‘You love them,’ he said, his voice a low rumble.

  ‘I do,’ she whispered.

  ‘They love you too.’

  Once at her home, he carried the sleeping Erich up to his bed and Elizabeth helped Liesl. He was just about to leave, as both children were settled, when she made a split-second decision. ‘Would you like a drink?’

  He turned and smiled.

  ‘There’s some whiskey in the cupboard. It’s been there years, but I don’t think it goes off?’

  ‘I believe it improves with age. Yes, I would like some, please.’

  He sat on the big sofa in the sitting room, which no longer had one trace of brown on the walls or doors, and she handed him a crystal tumbler with a generous measure of Irish whiskey. She had poured a sherry for herself. She considered sitting on the armchair beside the fire but impulsively sat beside him instead.

  ‘I enjoyed it tonight. I think that pair of scallywags upstairs did too.’

  He turned so his body was facing hers. ‘It was nice to have you there. We’re an odd bunch, I suppose, but we are managing, and the children stop everything becoming too…rührselig… You know what is this?’ His brow furrowed as he tried to think of the English word.

  She shook her head.

  ‘Like sad and crying and always seeing the bad future?’

  ‘Maudlin?’ she suggested.

  ‘Yes, maybe this. Maudlin. We have to stay cheerful for them, and so it is better, I think. Every day, the news is not good, so keeping knowledge of what’s happening in Europe to a minimum is best, I think. It is very bad, but I am just grateful that I got out and that I came here…’ He paused, his face inscrutable. ‘I am glad I met you, Elizabeth.’

  She held his gaze. His dark eyes reflected pools of emotion she had never seen before. Ruth’s revelation gave h
er the confidence she needed. ‘I’m glad I met you too, Daniel,’ she whispered.

  He leaned closer, their faces only inches apart, but as he did, they both heard footsteps on the stairs. She jumped up and went into the hallway.

  ‘I’m thirsty, Elizabeth.’ Erich was standing there, his hair on end.

  She led him to the kitchen and gave him a glass of milk. When she returned to the sitting room, Erich beside her, Daniel was standing with his coat on.

  ‘I’d better get back…’ he began uncertainly.

  ‘Of course. See you tomorrow, Daniel.’ She smiled. ‘And thank you for the lift.’

  ‘Danke schön, Daniel,’ Erich said sleepily.

  ‘Bitte, kleiner Freund.’ Daniel ruffled his hair and was gone.

  Chapter 15

  The following Monday, Elizabeth burned the toast and was about to go out the door to school with her cardigan on inside out. Liesl pointed it out, and Elizabeth acted furtive and guilty. She couldn’t sleep the previous night. What would have happened if Erich hadn’t appeared looking for a drink? They would have kissed undoubtedly, but would it have been a friendly kiss or a passionate one?

  They walked up the street to school together, Erich talking happily about a football tournament all the boys were planning once they got their holidays.

  ‘Do you think we’ll be allowed to use the school pitch even though the school is closed?’ he asked.

  She barely heard him.

  ‘Elizabeth! You’re not paying attention.’ He giggled. He did a wicked impersonation of her in the classroom.

  She smiled. ‘I’m sorry, Erich. I was just thinking about lessons. You wanted to know about using the school field? I think it would be fine, but you better check with the master.’

  The boy seemed happy with that suggestion.

  One of the local boys caught up with them, and he and Erich ran on.

  ‘Did Daniel go straight home yesterday?’ Liesl asked.

  Elizabeth shot her a look. That child was too perceptive by half sometimes.

  ‘No, he…he came in for a drink,’ Elizabeth admitted, and hoped she sounded nonchalant.

  ‘He likes you,’ Liesl said.

  ‘And I like him. He’s a very nice man.’ Elizabeth sounded prim even to her own ears.

  ‘No, I mean I think he really likes you, like he loves you, actually.’ Liesl kept her gaze straight ahead.

  ‘Well…I…I think he’s very nice, as I said and…’ Elizabeth was flustered. How did everyone but her know this?

  ‘Talia is always saying how Daniel likes her, but I don’t think so. Talia says a lot of things that are hard to believe,’ Liesl said ominously.

  ‘You don’t like Talia, do you?’ Elizabeth asked, glad to change the subject.

  ‘It’s not that. It’s just she’s always going on like she and Daniel are together, and she says some nasty things about the others too, like Ruth and Levi especially. Ruth is really nice and really kind to the children, and Levi is a bit quiet and can be a little bit grumpy, but he fixed Viola’s bike last week and it took ages. And he works so hard on the farm so they have enough food. And they are really nice. The Irish Jews are trying to help, but she can be a bit – I don’t know – catty or something.’

  Elizabeth was surprised. She liked Talia. The young woman was always upbeat and cheerful, and the class loved her art lessons. She knew Ruth felt the same about her as Liesl; perhaps Ruth was influencing the child.

  The newspaper boy passed, offering her paper to her rather than cycling the length of the street to her house. She took it with a disapproving glance. That Joey Foster was a lazy boy and constantly trying to pawn his newspapers off on others to deliver. She’d had words with him last week when she discovered Liesl carrying all the papers for their whole end of the street and instructed the children to refuse if he asked them again.

  She let herself in and made a cup of tea before the school day started. Part of her wanted to see Daniel when he dropped off the Jewish children, but a larger part was shy. She would invite him to dinner, but not in front of everyone. Perhaps this afternoon he might pop in when he came to collect.

  She opened the paper. The war was raging and showing no signs of turning against the Nazis. Everything was scarce, but the spirit of ‘keep calm and carry on’ was valiantly trying to defeat any doom and gloom. It was deemed unpatriotic to dwell on the negative, and people instead were focusing on Roosevelt’s insistence to the American government that they would need to step up their efforts to defeat Hitler. Charles Lindbergh and the America First Committee were fighting him. Lindbergh had just addressed a rally of 30,000 in Los Angeles, lashing out at what he saw as a very pro-war government, but the American president’s fireside chats seemed to be swinging the American public towards participation in the war on a bigger scale. They really needed American boots on the ground.

  Apart from that bit of cheer, the rest of the news was depressing. The Germans had reached the Spanish border, so the capitulation of France was complete and Hitler was swanning about like the cat who’d got the cream. She couldn’t bear to even look at him. She folded the paper in bad temper and threw it in the bin. She did not need that to start her day. It was hard enough to keep the children positive without that news swirling about in her head. She vowed to stop reading the paper first thing in the morning.

  One of the Polish children had received a letter a few weeks ago, smuggled out of Warsaw, and had showed it to the children in her class, explaining that all Jews in Poland now had to wear a yellow Star of David. It was terrifying, as they were now marked men and women. Had Elizabeth intercepted the letter first, she would have asked the child not to share it, as its contents had the entire class petrified for their families back in Europe. Erich wondered over dinner if his mother was having to wear a star, and Liesl explained that it was Poland and not Germany. But Elizabeth knew it was probably only a matter of time.

  She’d spoken to Rabbi Frank, and they agreed to avoid discussion of the war as much as possible with the children. It would not do them any good. So the child with the letter was allowed to vent her fears and anxiety about her family, but Elizabeth then implored her not to bring it up again or to go on about it too much because it would just frighten everyone further. The girl, a friend of Liesl’s, agreed and never raised the matter again.

  The children filed in and took their places. There was no sign of Daniel, and Elizabeth tried not to feel disappointed.

  Later that morning, Elizabeth was in mid-flow explaining long division when the master knocked on her classroom door. She looked up in surprise. He hardly ever came to her classroom during the teaching day, as they both had classes of more than thirty pupils and to leave them could spell disaster.

  ‘I’m sorry to interrupt, Mrs Klein, but I wonder if I could have a quick word?’

  Something was wrong. His whole demeanour was different.

  She set a particularly difficult sum for the children to do, and instructed them to do their best with it while she went outside to speak to the master.

  ‘Mr Morris?’ She was worried.

  ‘I’m sorry, Elizabeth, but the police are here. They want to speak to you.’

  Liesl and Erich were in the classroom, so it couldn’t be them.

  ‘What about?’ she asked.

  ‘They’re in my office. It’s best to let them explain, I think.’ He walked quickly ahead of her, negating any possibility of conversation.

  In the tiny organised office were two uniformed policemen and a man she assumed was a plain-clothes officer.

  He spoke first. ‘Mrs Klein, my name is Detective Inspector Gaughran, and these are my colleagues, Officer Barnes and Officer Topper. I’d like to ask you some questions if I may?’

  She recognised his accent as Belfast; he had the hard vowels of the city. He was tall and thin, was dressed in a grey suit and a beige trench coat and wore a pencil moustache. His thinning hair was combed back from his high brow. He had intelligent hazel eyes and
a calm demeanour, but something about him unnerved her.

  The master left her in the room, and the detective gestured that she should take a seat.

  ‘Of course, what’s this about?’ she asked.

  The detective didn’t answer but pulled a roll of paper from a large buff envelope. He unrolled the paper, which was around two feet wide by a foot long, on the desk in front of her.

  Elizabeth peered at it, instantly recognising it as from a roll of drawing paper one of the children’s fathers had managed to procure from the offices of the Belfast Telegraph. He brought it in, knowing the school was short of paper. Elizabeth had taken it gratefully, asking no questions.

  On the paper was a map of some description, but at various points, numbers were written in pencil. It was like an architectural drawing or something. The rest of the drawing showed a coastline with a variety of inexplicable symbols at seemingly random points.

  ‘Have you ever seen this before, Mrs Klein?’ the detective asked.

  Elizabeth had no idea what she was looking at. ‘No. Well, the paper looks like the art paper we use in class, but the drawing, never. What is it?’

  Gaughran gazed intently at her, as if determining her guilt or innocence. ‘It’s a map.’ He was clearly only telling her the bare minimum. ‘And you are a hundred percent positive you’ve never seen it before?’

  ‘No. I said I hadn’t.’ She was getting impatient now, and she didn’t like the accusation in his tone.

  ‘But you do recognise the paper?’

  ‘Well, yes, it’s newsprint. We use it for artwork. I have a roll of it in my classroom.’

  ‘And did you give this paper to anyone?’

  ‘Well, the children obviously,’ she responded, her voice sharpening. He surely wasn’t suggesting one of the children did this?

  ‘And do you ever give them blank paper to take home?’

  ‘No. They use it in school only, and they get to take their artwork home at the end of term.’

  ‘And you’ve only given this to children, no adults?’

  She racked her brain. Had Talia taken some, or Daniel? They would be the only adults in the classroom apart from herself and Mr Morris.