Heidi nodded.
‘But there’s blood on your face.’
‘It’s not blood. It’s a birthmark.’ Heidi felt her face. Her fingers came away red and damp. There was blood, but not very much.
The woman examined her in the fierce yellow pulses of light. ‘Just scratches, I think,’ she said. ‘Where is your mother?’
‘I have no mother,’ said Heidi clearly. ‘No father either. I’m alone.’
The woman was silent for a moment. ‘Then you must stay with us for now,’ she said. Her voice was definite, but sort of flat, as though she’d used up all emotion. ‘We have to get through to the Americans. Away from the Russian soldiers. You understand?’
‘The Russians killed Helga,’ said the boy. They were the first words he’d spoken. His voice was high and fierce.
‘Who is Helga?’ whispered Heidi.
‘My elder sister. They hurt Mutti as well.’
The woman beside her began to tremble. She slid down the wall that sheltered them. ‘We’ll rest a minute,’ she whispered. ‘Then we’ll go on. There is food in the bag if you need it, child.’
She closed her eyes.
‘Is she alright?’ whispered Heidi to the boy.
The boy nodded. ‘She just needs to rest,’ he said. ‘She carried Helga till she died.’
His voice was almost matter of fact. He could have been talking about carrying the shopping, unless you looked at his eyes and the white fists of his hands.
‘What’s your name?’ he asked at last.
‘Heidi,’ said Heidi.
‘My name is Johannes Wilhem Schmidt,’ said the boy. ‘And my mother is Frau Erna Schmidt and my father is—’
‘Is Herr Schmidt,’ said Heidi.
‘His name is Johannes too, like me,’ said the boy.
‘Where is he?’
The boy hesitated. ‘I don’t know. But he’ll find us again. Mutti says he will.’
‘I’m sure he will find you,’ whispered Heidi.
‘You can rest if you like,’ said Johannes carefully, as another tank squealed by. ‘I’ll look after you.’
She almost smiled. He was so small. And so earnest.
‘Thank you,’ she said.
‘I’ll look after both of you,’ said Johannes.
Heidi nodded. ‘I know you will,’ she said. ‘And I’ll look after you.’
chapter eighteen
The End of the Story
The rain spluttered on the roof, and oozed through the yellow mud along the road. The black and white cow opposite took a mournful mouthful of wet grass and munched it sadly. The world was wet and grey and just the same.
‘What happened then?’ asked Mark finally.
Anna shoved her hands back into her pockets. ‘Nothing. That’s the end of the story.’
‘But it can’t be the end! Please Anna!’ Tracey’s small, cold fingers touched her hand.
Anna hesitated.
‘Where did she go then? What happened to the Schmidts? Did they escape the Russians? Did they find somewhere safe?’ urged Mark.
‘Frau Schmidt and Johannes were sent to a refugee camp.’ Anna’s voice was still hesitant. ‘They got through to the part of Berlin the Americans controlled.’
‘And Heidi?’ urged Mark.
‘She went too. Frau Schmidt told the people at the camp that Heidi was her daughter—the one who died. They had to get new papers in the camp, and that’s what Heidi’s said: Helga Schmidt. She was Helga now.’
‘And then?’
‘And then they came out to Australia.’ Anna’s voice was stronger again.
Mark blinked. ‘Australia? You mean here!’
Anna nodded.
‘But…but that’s impossible!’
‘No, it wasn’t! Lots of refugees came here after World War Two. Herr Schmidt found his family in the refugee camp, so they all came out here together. And Herr Schmidt accepted Heidi as his daughter. People had so little then. Just their family. Herr Schmidt said Heidi was “eine Gabe von Gott”. A gift from God.’
‘I didn’t know you spoke German,’ said Mark.
Anna rubbed her cold, red nose. ‘A few words,’ she said ‘Grandma taught me. She spoke a…a little German.’
Ben frowned. ‘But she can’t have come to Australia. We’d have heard if Hitler’s daughter came here.’
‘Dope. She’s not real. Remember?’ said Mark. But his voice was uncertain.
‘And anyway, no one knew she was Hitler’s daughter, did they, Anna?’ put in Tracey eagerly.
Anna shook her head.
‘Go on,’ said Mark slowly.
‘She went to school in Australia. It took her longer to get through school than for others, because she’d missed so much, and she had to learn English too. Then she went to university. She became a doctor, a pediatrician. That’s a doctor for kids,’ she added for Little Tracey.
‘Did she get married?’ asked Tracey.
Anna nodded. ‘She married another doctor, and she had children.’
‘Hitler’s grandchildren!’ exclaimed Mark.
‘No. Heidi’s children,’ said Anna stubbornly.
‘What did her kids do?’ asked Ben. ‘Hey, imagine if one of Hitler’s grandkids became Prime Minister. We’d all have to fight him—pow, pow, pow!’
‘One became a furniture maker and the other one…’ Anna hesitated. ‘I don’t know.’
‘But it’s your story!’ insisted Mark. ‘You have to know!’
‘A teacher,’ said Little Tracey firmly. ‘The other one became a teacher.’
Anna half smiled. ‘Okay. A teacher.’
‘Cool. Imagine being taught by Hitler’s grandkid,’ remarked Ben. ‘They’d make you go, Sieg heil! Sieg heil! Sieg heil! every morning and you’d have to goosestep into class. I bet he’d have one of those silly moustaches too. Hey, there’s the bus! I thought maybe Mrs Latter had been caught by the floods or something and we’d have to miss school.’
The bus pulled up slowly at the verge. Little Tracey ran on first, as she always did. Ben followed more slowly behind. Mark lingered in the bus shelter.
‘Anna?’
‘Mmm?’ Anna picked up her bag.
‘Did…did Heidi ever tell anyone? About who her father was?’
Anna avoided his eyes. ‘How could she tell anyone? She’d have been hated, just like her father was hated.’
‘But it wasn’t her fault.’
Anna shrugged. ‘Who’d have believed that? Besides she wanted a new life…a real life, like everyone else, with a family and friends to laugh with.’
Anna stepped out of the shelter. Mark held her arm, so she had to turn back. ‘You mean she…she just kept quiet? She never told anybody at all?’
Anna nodded. She jerked her arm away, and stepped through the sticky mud and over the gutter, into the cold metallic dampness of the bus.
Mark followed her. He glanced at Little Tracey, in her usual seat behind the driver. She seemed more subdued than usual. Was she, too, thinking of Hitler’s daughter, unable to get her from her mind?
Mark sat in the seat behind Anna, as he always did. She was looking out the window, at the wet, sad cows blinking at the bus, the too-green grass limp in their mouths. Her lips were tight and her eyes gleamed silver at the edges.
‘Anna?’
‘What?’ Anna didn’t turn around.
‘I’m sorry.’ Mark didn’t know why he was apologising. But it seemed right.
Anna shrugged. Her jacket rustled against the bus seat. Mark tried again.
‘Of course I see why she couldn’t tell anyone. No one would understand, not really.’ He tried to put it into words. ‘She’d be afraid they’d just see Hitler, not her.’
Anna turned round and met his eyes. She nodded. ‘She’d just be Hitler’s daughter. All her life.’
‘I just thought…’ stumbled Mark, ‘that maybe… maybe sometimes she couldn’t keep it to herself. That she’d have to tell someone, just once.’
> Anna glanced out the window, at the grey sky and greyer rain. Then she looked back at Mark.
‘She told her granddaughter,’ she said softly. ‘Just once, like you said. One day when it was raining like today. It was just before she died. She told her all about Fräulein Gelber and Frau Leib and the Schmidts. But it was just a story. That’s what she told her granddaughter. Only a story. Just pretend, that’s all.’
‘Just pretend,’ echoed Mark.
Anna nodded. She turned back, and looked out the window again. The wet cows watched them pass in the small, grey bus with orange mud splashed about its wheels, carrying its passengers to school.
About the Author
JACKIE FRENCH’s writing career spans ten years. During this time she has written over 80 books for kids and adults, some of which have been translated into other languages, and won various awards for her writing. Jackie also appears on ‘Burke’s Backyard’ in many disguises, and writes columns on gardening and the environment in newspapers and magazines.
Jackie’s love of history began as a child and has been the inspiration for the series of books that began with Somewhere Around the Corner, followed by Daughter of the Regiment, Soldier on the Hill, Lady Dance, The White Ship, How the Finnegan’s Saved the Ship and Valley of Gold. Jackie feels that the past was not only a fascinating adventure, but also holds the clues to understanding our own time.
Hitler’s Daughter has received wide critical acclaim and in 2000 won the Children’s Book Council Book of the Year for Younger Readers.
‘It is a mark of French’s genius that she can weave deep moral issues into an engrossing, fast-moving story.’
Stephen Matthews, Canberra Times
To find out more about Jackie French and her books register for her monthly newsletter at www.harpercollins.com.au/jackiefrench.
Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins author.
Other Books by Jackie French
Fiction
The Roo that Won the Melbourne Cup • Rain Stones Walking the Boundaries • The Boy Who Had Wings Somewhere Around the Corner
Annie’s Pouch • Alien Games • The Secret Beach Mermaids • Mind’s Eye • A Wombat Named Bosco Summerland • Beyond the Boundaries The Warrior – the Story of a Wombat
The Book of Unicorns • Dancing with Ben Hall Soldier on the Hill • Daughter of the Regiment Stories to Eat with a Banana • Tajore Arkle
Hitler’s Daughter • In the Blood • Missing You, Love Sara Stories to Eat with a Watermelon • Lady Dance Stories to Eat with a Blood Plum How the Finnegans Saved the Ship
Dark Wind Blowing • A Story to Eat with a Mandarin Ride the Wild Wind • Blood Moon • The White Ship Phredde and the Leopard-skin Librarian
Non-fiction
How the Aliens from Alpha Centauri Invaded My Maths Class and Turned Me Into a Writer…
How to Guzzle Your Garden • Book of Challenges Stamp, Stomp,Whomp (and other interesting ways to get rid of pests)
Seasons of Content • The Best of Jackie French Earthly Delights
The Fascinating History of Your Lunch
The Secret Life of Santa Claus
Visit Jackie’s website
www.jackiefrench.com
Copyright
Angus&Robertson
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers, Australia
First published in Australia in 1999
This edition published in 2010
by HarperCollinsPublishers Pty Limited
ABN 36 009 913 517
A member of the HarperCollins Publishers (Australia) Pty Limited Group
www.harpercollins.com.au
Copyright © Jackie French 1999
The right of Jackie French to be identified as the moral rights author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright Amendment (Moral Rights) Act 2000 (Cth).
This book is copyright.
Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of private study, research, criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright Act, no part may be reproduced by any process without written permission.
Inquiries should be addressed to the publishers.
HarperCollinsPublishers
25 Ryde Road, Pymble, Sydney, NSW 2073, Australia
31 View Road, Glenfield, Auckland 10, New Zealand
77-85 Fulham Palace Road, London W6 8JB, United Kingdom
Hazelton Lanes, 55 Avenue Road, Suite 2900, Toronto, Ontario M5R 3L2
and 1995 Markham Road, Scarborough, Ontario M1B 5M8, Canada
10 East 53rd Street, New York NY 10022, USA
National Library of Australia Cataloguing-in-Publication data:
French, Jackie.
Hitler’s daughter.
ISBN: 0 207 19801 2 (pbk.)
ISBN: 978-0-730-49194-1 (ePub)
I. Title.
A823.3
About the Publisher
Australia
HarperCollins Publishers (Australia) Pty. Ltd.
25 Ryde Road (PO Box 321)
Pymble, NSW 2073, Australia
http://www.harpercollinsebooks.com.au
Canada
HarperCollins Canada
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http://www.harpercollinsebooks.ca
New Zealand
HarperCollinsPublishers (New Zealand) Limited
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http://www.harpercollinsebooks.co.nz
United Kingdom
HarperCollins Publishers Ltd.
77-85 Fulham Palace Road
London, W6 8JB, UK
http://www.harpercollinsebooks.co.uk
United States
HarperCollins Publishers Inc.
10 East 53rd Street
New York, NY 10022
http://www.harpercollinsebooks.com
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