Meeting Daniel, falling in love with him, she felt like a girl again, like the entire world had changed from sepia to bright technicolour once more. The war and all the horror and loss and destruction were not irrelevant – it impacted everyone – but in many ways, the war had given her her life back. She had Liesl and Erich, she had moved back to Ballycreggan, she married her soulmate…all because of Hitler. She hated him, of course, but if he hadn’t done what he did, then she would probably still be a lonely spinster, living half a life.
‘I feel like their mother – I genuinely love them, I worry for them, I fear for their futures. The trust, their innocence, breaks my heart sometimes, and if it’s all right with the others, I will talk to them about the future, and I think I actually am the best person to do it.’
Chapter 14
‘May I use the bathroom?’ Ariella asked.
She had gone back to the sacristy once the sun set, but Father Dominic had intercepted her at the door and led her to the parochial house. She stood in his office now for the first time. It was a large house with a lot of people coming and going, and she could feel the tension in the air. Her being there was dangerous, not just for her and the priest but for everyone in the building. But the church was probably more so. Father Dominic wanted to help her, but it was so risky.
‘Er…yes. Yes, of course. Let me check that the landing is clear first.’ He went out, and she heard him exchange a few words with someone. Then he returned.
‘Quickly, second door on the right. Stay in there until I knock three times on the door to let you know it’s clear again.’
She nodded and scurried past him, rushing to the lavatory. She finished, washed her hands and gazed at her reflection in a cracked mirror over the sink. She looked so different. For a moment, she’d forgotten that her hair was cut. The wave arranged by Frau Braun was gone, and her curls hung loose, though her hair was cut just below her ears. She wished she had some pins or something. She splashed some cold water on her face and dried with a clean but frayed and greying towel hanging on a nail. Then she waited until she heard his knock before emerging into the corridor once more.
He held his office door open, and she rushed inside to the sanctuary. He turned the key, locking them both in, and pulled out a spindle chair for her to sit on. The large room was sparse, just a desk and two chairs, a cupboard and a dresser full of what she assumed was liturgical paraphernalia. On one wall were shelves containing hundreds of books, mostly with dark spines, and in the corner was an old armchair covered in a dark-green cloth.
‘Right, I’ve spoken to some people, but getting you out at this stage is as I suspected – impossible. I would say to just stay in hiding in the sacristy, but between Frau Groenig and Stella Kübler, it’s too dangerous. She was seen again this afternoon, by the way, while you were out. One of the other priests spotted her.’ Father Dominic spoke quickly and quietly.
This last piece of information solidified her decision.
‘She may have been watching the forger’s place, or maybe Frau Groenig spotted something was amiss and alerted someone who put her on the case. It doesn’t matter anyway. The point is they are looking for you.’
Compassion and kindness spread across his careworn face. ‘I wish I could do more, but you can’t stay here – it’s too dangerous. And, well, if they found you, they might find others, and I can’t risk that. But I don’t want to abandon you. So I was thinking. There is a tiny room, not much more than a broom cupboard really, up in the gallery, behind the organ. Nobody goes there, and I’ve used it from time to time. Maybe we could put you there until I think of something else?’
He ran his hands through his grey hair, and she felt a wave of affection for him. He was trying his best, but it wasn’t fair – he had enough to worry about. She knew he wouldn’t let her go, but that was exactly what she was going to do. If Stella Kübler found her, she would surely lead the authorities to Father Dominic and whoever else he was hiding as well. She couldn’t have his death on her conscience. She’d have to go it alone. As she’d walked all day, she’d formulated a plan, and while it wasn’t ideal by any standard, she was going to have to give it a go. In the meantime, she would pretend she was going to stay.
‘Thank you, and hopefully it won’t be for long. It’s almost over. We just have to hold on.’ She smiled.
‘Oh, it’s over all right. Paris was liberated last week. The Allied armies are meeting the Germans head on and winning, though progress is slow. They have the might of the USA behind them now. The panzers are down south – they weren’t expecting the Normandy attack – and the maquisards are doing a great job of disrupting the Germans getting troops up through France. The Russians are powering through what’s left of German defences on the Eastern Front, but they are still deadly dangerous.’
She had a moment’s doubt. This man was offering her a lifeline. Maybe she should take it and hope for the best… But she couldn’t put him in that much danger. She thought of Liesl and Erich and the feeling of them running into her arms. She longed to hide in that cupboard, but it wouldn’t be right.
Her eyes burning with intensity, she spoke. ‘Thank you, Father Dominic. I really appreciate what you are doing for me. My children are Liesl and Erich Bannon. They are living with my husband’s cousin, a lady called Elizabeth Klein, in a village called Ballycreggan in County Down, Northern Ireland. If anything happens to me, can you try to get a message to them, tell them that I love them so very much and that I tried my hardest to get back to them? Tell them I wish long and happy lives for them and that their papa and I will be watching over them every day of their lives with love. And please thank Elizabeth for me. There are no words to convey my gratitude and love for her and all she has done.’
He took a sheet of paper from his desk. ‘Write to them. I’ll see they get it,’ he said. ‘If I survive.’
‘Thank you.’ The gesture meant so much.
Ariella moved her chair towards the desk and took the sheet of paper and pen he offered. She wrote her note quickly, sealing the envelope he gave her, writing her children’s names on the outside. She handed it to the priest, who placed it inside a book on his shelf.
‘Can I write one more?’ she asked.
‘Of course, but we must be quick.’ He handed her a second sheet.
She wrote once more, folding the letter and handing it to him. He placed it in the same book.
‘I’ll see they get them, but I hope I won’t need to.’ He went to the door, but before opening it, he turned to her. ‘All right, go over to the church, make sure nobody sees you and go up the stairs to the gallery. To the right of the organ pipes is a small door. It is unlocked, but I’ll have to lock you in for safety. I’ll come over in a while, in time for Benediction, so it won’t look odd.’
‘Thank you, Father Dominic, for everything.’ She stood.
‘Hold on.’ He dug in his black jacket pocket, producing a worn headscarf. ‘Use this to cover your hair as the red hair might give you away. Also these.’ He took a pair of horn-rimmed spectacles from his other pocket. ‘Put them on as well. It’s not a great disguise, but it’s better than nothing.’
Ariella did as he instructed and looked down at the dress she’d been wearing since she left the Brauns’. It was bright and would be memorable. She pointed to the dark-green fabric covering on the armchair. ‘Could I borrow that?’
‘The chair?’ he asked, confused.
‘No.’ She smiled. ‘Just the cover. This dress is easily recognisable. I can wrap that fabric to make it look like a dress, and I’ll be less identifiable. I’ll give it back.’
‘Of course, take it.’ He crossed the room in three long strides and pulled the fabric off to reveal a particularly horrible brown cabbage-rose pattern on the chair, the arms frayed to almost threadbare.
Ariella winced. ‘I can see why you covered it.’ She laughed although she felt bad about taking the covering.
‘Hmm,’ he said, glad of a moment’s levity to eas
e the tension. ‘I’ll try to find something else. No doubt one of the ladies of the parish will find something.’ He shrugged and gave a chuckle, a lovely gurgling sound from deep in his chest, and it reminded her of her father-in-law’s laugh. How she missed him.
She wrapped the material into a skirt over her dress, tucking it in at the waist, and put the blazer on over it. With the headscarf covering her hair, the heavy glasses and the more dowdy colours, she did look different. She just hoped it was enough.
‘Well, I’d better go,’ she said, trying not to betray the terror she felt at leaving the protection of his office.
‘One moment.’ He opened the door and checked the corridor and staircase. ‘All right, it’s clear.’ He held the door open for her. ‘Good luck, Ariella. I’ll check on you after Benediction.’
‘Thanks.’
She passed him and ran out the way she had come in.
Chapter 15
The plan was that the children would gather in the refectory after prayers. The long, low building was where most things happened – homework, eating, playing – so it felt like the right place. It had been constructed from scratch by the men of the farm in the early months of 1940, and while it did the job, it was very utilitarian looking. Elizabeth couldn’t wait to get started on the refurbishment to soften it all up and make it more welcoming. Daniel had been the supervisor of the original project, as he was with all construction since, and even he agreed it was less than ideal.
The only really lovely place on the whole farm was the synagogue. The community were justifiably proud of their place of worship. It wasn’t as ornate or beautifully decorated as the ones they had worshipped in at home, but there was a simplistic beauty to it. Elizabeth enjoyed being there. It felt restful and serene, and in the endless hustle and bustle of the farm, it was an oasis of calm.
Despite the functional nature of everything, the entire farm was a miracle really, she thought as she walked up from the village. They grew or produced almost all their own food, reused everything and were frugal with everything so as not to be any more of a burden on their benefactors than need be.
Daniel had offered to drive her, but she’d sent Liesl and Erich up earlier with him in the car for prayers and opted to walk. She wanted the time before the meeting to clear her head and try to find the right words.
As Daniel predicted, the committee were happy for her to address the children on the possible future they faced. Rabbi Frank had thanked her sincerely for offering and blessed her courage and love for those little ones in their care. He said he was sure she would find the right words. Right then, she wished she shared his confidence.
As she approached the farm, it struck her how quiet it was. Usually it was a hive of activity – people working, children playing, food being cooked, laundry being done – but everyone was at prayer. It was the only time the place was quiet.
She sat outside the synagogue, enjoying the late summer sunshine and going over her speech in her head. She had no notes. These were the children she explained things to all day every day in school, and she would use the words she always used, the tone they were familiar with.
She said a quick prayer to her parents, and to Rudi. She wasn’t religious in the sense of belonging to any church. She was raised Catholic but had not been involved in the church in any way for decades. Daniel, Liesl and Erich were Jews, but she didn’t feel a strong pull in that direction either. However, she did believe that this wasn’t all there was. She felt a strong sense of spirituality, that those who went before were not gone, that there was some master plan. If not, well, then the last six years, or indeed the Great War before that, were just answering some egomaniac’s need for power, and she couldn’t countenance that.
She composed her prayer and said the words in her head as she waited outside. She could hear the murmur of voices inside.
Mammy and Daddy and Rudi, I need you all now. I have to do perhaps one of the most difficult things of my life, so please be by my side as I try to find a way to reassure these little children. I don’t feel like I have the right words. I know there are no right words, but help them to understand that we’ll look after them no matter what. Thank you.
She inhaled and exhaled slowly and deliberately, the breaths bringing calm.
She heard the doors of the synagogue open, and she crossed to meet Daniel, who stood there as children and adults alike poured out. Three white feathers floated before her on the light summer breeze. She smiled. Her daddy used to say that whenever you saw a white feather, it was the souls of the dead reminding you that they were watching over you. The chicken coop was nearby, so a sceptic might dismiss such a fanciful notion, but that evening she chose to believe her parents and Rudi were with her.
‘How are you?’ Daniel murmured as she stood beside him.
‘Fine, I think.’ She exhaled raggedly.
The children were doing as Levi instructed and stacking chairs and then gathering in the refectory. There was a bit of moaning, as they wanted to go outside and play in the late evening warmth, but Levi and Ruth shepherded them inside. Elizabeth noticed Ben, the boy from Dublin who took up so much of her darling Liesl’s daydreams, help Liesl and Viola with their chairs. Several other young Irish Jewish volunteers had joined the community and were in varying degrees helpful around the house and farm. They all meant well, and the European Jews were unfailingly welcoming and friendly, but Daniel confided that some of them were as useful as a chocolate teapot.
There were lots of people always coming and going. Daniel, Ruth, Levi and Rabbi Frank were the only adults who had been there since the beginning. Ruth and Levi had eventually got married, much to everyone’s relief. Both could be taciturn and difficult, but undoubtedly they made each other happy. Nobody ever mentioned Talia Zimmerman.
‘Right, I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,’ Elizabeth replied, giving his hand a quick squeeze. Rabbi Frank had had to make many concessions to a less orthodox way of life since coming to the farm, but public displays of affection would still be very much frowned upon.
The rabbi approached and invited Elizabeth into the farmhouse. The refectory was to the left as she entered, and behind it was a large industrial kitchen with a large serving hatch out into the dining hall. All of the children sat on the benches, with a few of the older ones, like Liesl and Viola and Viola’s sister Anika, sitting on the tables along the walls. Erich sat with Simon, his best friend, a boy from Bavaria. She smiled as Abraham Schultz, a heartbreakingly handsome nine-year-old gave her a wave.
Ruth helped the really little ones up onto the bench. The babies, as they were called, were aged between eighteen months and three when they arrived and had been cared for mainly by Ruth and some of the Irish volunteers. But as time passed, they too came to school, and so now Elizabeth knew every child on the farm.
Rabbi Frank stood at the top of the room, and everyone fell silent. ‘Now, boys and girls.’ His tone was kind. ‘Mrs Lieber has joined us tonight because we all need to tell you about something exciting that is going to happen here over the coming months.’ He saw the smiles on their little faces and quickly said, ‘We all know how Mrs Lieber is wonderful at explaining things, so I’ve asked her to talk to you this evening.’
Ruth and the other adults went in the kitchen and began making hot chocolate and taking some freshly baked buns out of the oven, another of Elizabeth’s suggestions. Let them feel the refurbishment of their home was a cause for celebration. The aroma of baking and warm chocolate was working its magic already.
They all nodded in enthusiastic agreement. So many children had stories of teachers in the past who used sticks and shouting to get them to behave. But everyone wanted to please Mrs Lieber, and if anyone misbehaved, all it took was one look from her and the child rethought their actions.
All eyes were on her, and she clenched and unclenched her fists, a gesture she’d carried through from childhood and used when she was worried.
She moved into the centre of the room, thou
gh there had been a chair set up for her at the top. She sat on the table, beckoning them to come closer. That is what she’d done each Friday afternoon in school for story time, and even though the older children didn’t have to participate and could do their homework if they wished, she often smiled to find them just as enraptured with her tales as the little ones.
‘So today I need to tell you something.’ She smiled. ‘As you all know, the war is almost over and Germany will be defeated. So that is wonderful news, isn’t it? Hitler and the Nazis will have to surrender, and things can start getting back to how they were.’
They all nodded; it was great news. Their trusting eyes pulled at her heart.
‘But some of you might be worrying about what is going to happen next, or thinking maybe that because you came here by train that you will be put back on trains.’ She knew by their faces that was exactly their fear.
‘Well, the first thing I must tell you is that is definitely not going to happen. When the end of the war is announced, hopefully soon, we must expect that it will take a very long time for things to get sorted out. Lots of people – soldiers, children, everyone really – have been moved all over the place, and a lot of the roads and train lines have been damaged, so getting people back to where they once lived will be very hard. And it will take a long time.’
She paused. ‘Do you all understand that? Why it is going to take a long time?’
Several children nodded, and she went on. ‘So what we want is for each of you to understand that this is your home. This farm, and all of us, are your home for as long as you want it or need it. Nobody is going to send you anywhere alone.’ She looked around, making eye contact with each of them in turn. ‘Do you have any questions?’
The Emerald Horizon (The Star and the Shamrock Book 2) Page 10
