Letter from a Stranger (34 page)

“I agree with you,” Justine responded.

“And how do you feel about it?” he asked, his curiosity echoing in his voice.

“Obviously I was startled when I discovered that Gran was not only Jewish but German-born with a German father. I had always believed Gran was English. She looks it, sounds it, and is very English in her ways, her manners.”

“Well, she is half English because of Stella, her mother, and I’m sure she absorbed a lot from her, and the aunt in London. I know from Anita that she and her mother were very close, joined at the hip. Then again, they spent a lot of time in England before the war, according to Anita. Later Gabri was married to an Englishman, Peter Hardwicke, your grandfather, and she lived there for a number of years before going to America.”

“Yes, that’s true, and I guess that’s the only part
you
know, isn’t it, Michael?”

“It is. After Gabri saved Anita’s life, they were separated, were living in different countries until the end of the war. And that’s about the extent of it. Do you know, I’m not even sure how they found each other again. It was in London, though, that I’m aware of, Justine.”

“I’m sure my mother doesn’t know one thing about Gran’s early life. Otherwise I think she would have been much kinder to her, nicer. Perhaps the estrangement might never have happened.”

“Perhaps. But look, Gabriele has always been very tight-lipped about her life before she went to New York in the late fifties.”

“I just wish she had told me and Rich when we were children. My father didn’t know, I’m convinced of that.”

“How could she tell you, Justine? Gabriele obviously couldn’t confide in anyone. If she said she was Jewish, had grown up in Nazi Germany, the questions would have come flying at her thick and fast. It’s quite apparent people would have wanted to know about her life, what happened to her as a young woman.”

“I suppose so, and she is very striking, was truly a beauty when she was a much younger woman. Charming, very elegant. People were drawn to her. They
would
have wanted to know more.”

“Gabriele can’t dredge up those years. That’s the reason she has never talked. And never will. I understand that, Justine. She can’t bear to relive what happened to her,” Michael said. “It’s too painful.”

Justine murmured, “I’ve been on an emotional roller coaster all day, Michael.”

“I’m sure you have. I hope Gabri will let me read it. What do you think?”

“I did mention that to her, and she said I could tell you about the book. After all, you’ve been like a grandson to her all of these years, given her love, shown compassion and understanding. You’ve been extremely close to her. Of course she’ll want you to read it.”

“Yes, we’ve been close and she’s given
me
a lot of love in return. I would like to know about those mysterious years in her life. I think that’s only natural.”

“Something else came up, Michael. Joanne called earlier today. I’m afraid Daisy has come down with an ear infection.”

“They’re not coming!” Michael exclaimed, cutting her off.

“That’s right. She can’t travel. Not for two weeks.”

*   *   *

After she and Michael hung up, Justine decided to go downstairs and have supper. Although she was not very hungry, she knew if she didn’t appear soon Ayce would come looking for her.

It was Suna who greeted her when she went into the kitchen. “Good evening, Miss Justine,” she said. “Ayce on terrace.”

Justine nodded, murmured her thanks, and went outside. She spotted Ayce setting a small table in readiness for her dinner. “Thank you,” she said as she came to a stop next to the pretty young Turkish woman, smiling at her. “What a great idea you had. It’ll be nice to eat outside.”

Ayce smiled back. “I bring chopped salad?”

“Yes, please, Ayce, I’d like to eat now.” Justine sat down at the table and picked up the glass of iced tea Ayce had just poured, took a sip. Ayce hurried off.

It was a lovely night, the sky a deep pavonian blue, with stars gradually coming out, and a hint of moon floating above Central Istanbul. Justine found herself relaxing, and her mind focused on Michael.

Thirty-eight

After supper on the terrace, Justine returned to her bedroom. Now that she had spoken to Michael, and had a short respite from the book, she wanted to start reading it again, needing to know more about her grandmother’s past.

Within seconds she had settled herself in the chair, picked up the book, and turned the pages until she came to the part where she had left off.

When I returned to the Schloss after my walk, Princess Arabella was waiting for me in the great room. Do you feel better now? she asked me. I nodded. I needed to calm myself, I explained. I sat down in the chair opposite her. And waited for her to speak. I could see she looked serious. She said, Let us go to my study, Gabriele. We must make the phone call to your aunt in London. Let us do it now. She must be told. I nodded. Stood up. Followed her out of the room. Her study was across the hall. She went straight to the desk. Beckoned for me to follow. I did. Indicating the chair where I should sit, she picked up the receiver. Handed it to me. I knew my aunt’s number by heart. I dialed her in London. Waited. Eventually it rang through. She answered it. I said, It’s me, Auntie Beryl. Gabriele. Oh hello, darling, how are you? she asked in her warm but brusk voice. I was suddenly unable to speak. My throat closed. I gulped. Then I managed to say, Mummy has disappeared, Auntie Beryl. And Papa and Erika. They were taken by the Gestapo.

Auntie Beryl cried, No! No! Oh no, not my darling Stella, not Dirk and Erika. It’s true, I said. Where are you? she cried in alarm. Are you safe? I am with Arabella von Wittingen. Here she is, Auntie Beryl. I could hear my aunt weeping, and endeavoring to control herself at the other end of the phone. I stood up.

After greeting my aunt, whom she knew, Arabella sat down, sympathized with her, gave her the details which I had passed on earlier. She told my aunt I could stay with them. I would be safe in the country. She also said that Princess Irina Troubetzkoy could get me an exit visa. That they were going to get me to England. Somehow. To her.

My aunt must have told her she would send money, as much as they needed, because Arabella said, “No, Beryl, we don’t need lots of money from you. We don’t need any. Thank you. My husband is happy to do this for Gabriele. We will stay in touch. As soon as we have the exit visa for Gabri we will let you know. We’ll phone when we have more news of Stella. Then she was listening to my aunt. Soon she beckoned me.

I went to the phone. My aunt said, Take care of yourself, Gabri. I am here waiting for you. And listen to the princess. She has your interests at heart, as if you are her own flesh and blood. I will, I promised. I hung up.

Princess Irina came into the study. She was smiling. I spoke to C. Is he going to help us with Gabri? Arabella asked. Of course, Irina replied, I feel as if a weight has been lifted. Now I am all ready to start working on your project.

I looked from one to the other. Arabella said, Come along, Gabriele. We are going to the attics. To rummage. In the trunks. For clothes. My new project. I followed the two princesses as we mounted the stairs.

At one moment I heard Irina say, We’re in for a long siege, Belle. I’m afraid C sounds very grave. He thinks the Nazi riots a week ago are only the beginning. He says Hitler has plans to engulf the Western democracies in war. A war like we’ve never seen. C is dismayed. So are many of the generals. They are angry. They want Hitler out.

Arabella nodded. I’m not surprised. There may well be a revolt. I agree we have to get rid of Hitler. One must always strike at the head of the beast, Arabella added. It’s the only way to kill it. The man is diabolical. And totally mad.

There were many large trunks in the attics. Arabella showed me one, directed Irina to another. Take everything out, examine it, and decide if it’s worth remaking. The seamstress I have works wonders. I did as she said, examined every piece of clothing. And listened. They spoke freely in front of me. They trusted me.

Princess Irina said, I asked C if he could get Gabri a new passport. But he doesn’t know if he can. Maybe false papers. But he prefers to use the legitimate passport. It worries me, though. Why, Arabella asked without lifting her head. It has J for Jew stamped on it. A new Nazi law was passed in October. Oh God, Arabella said in a low voice. What will they think of next? She sounded suddenly despondent.

Irina said, One of my Polish friends told me the other day that Goebbels has a new name for us young international aristocrats from foreign countries. He calls us
international garbage.
Irina laughed. Arabella didn’t. She said in an icy voice, And Doctor Goebbels is Nazi filth. She continued to rummage in the trunk.

Suddenly Arabella spoke again. I couldn’t believe my eyes at the British embassy last week, she said. Somebody there must be crazy. They invited the worst trash, including a few so-called lady guests who looked as if they worked at Madame Kitty’s brothel.

This comment made Irina laugh again. But she remained silent. Arabella spoke in a brighter voice as she straightened, and closed the lid of the trunk. She said, Adam von Trott is coming to dinner on Saturday, and Reinhard and Renata von Tiegal. Would you like me to invite C? Irina stood staring at her. I’m not sure. He would enjoy it perhaps, she answered. All of our friends think the way he does. He is not socializing much these days. He has his hands full.

I understand, Arabella said. Kurt has great affection for him. Kurt and C are of the same ilk. By birth, upbringing, tradition, and conviction they are the antithesis of Hitler, all that he stands for.

Irina closed the lid of her trunk. I kept my head in mine. I wanted to listen to them. The Russian princess murmured, Many of the naval officers who work for him think the same way. In fact there isn’t one ministry that doesn’t have men who hate the Nazis, condemn what they are doing. All these hateful acts infuriate them. Anyway, I will ask him, Belle.

Arabella told us to sort the clothes into separate piles of dresses, coats, jackets, and suits. She told us that Prince Kurt predicted a long siege. Shortages soon. Food and clothes would be scarce. It would be a long and terrible war, she added.

Later I went to my room. I wanted to be alone. I was not in the room I usually had. Instead Arabella had put me in the one which my mother had always considered hers. I liked it. And it seemed to welcome me. I felt my mother’s presence everywhere.

Prince Kurt did not arrive until Saturday. He brought the children with him. Christian was twelve. Diana was nine. They were happy to see me. I enjoyed being their companion. There was only one rule we had to obey. We must speak English at all times. Even when Gretchen, their governess, was present. Princess Arabella insisted on this. It was no hardship. She wanted them to be fluent in her native language. She said I was a good influence because I spoke perfect English.

Later that afternoon Arabella took me to the library to see the prince. He was kind, spoke gently to me. His news was bad. I sat with Arabella. Listening to him. I was shaking in every limb. He told us, I made many inquiries. There is no information at the moment. I am so sorry, Gabriele. So very sorry.

I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t stop shaking. My heart was crushed. I had lost them. I knew that. Whatever would I do without Mummy? And Papa and my little sister? And how would they manage without me? I always made them laugh when they were sad. I gave them all my love. I helped my mother. I looked after Erika. We had been one unit. Now I was one person. Alone.

Arabella witnessed my distress. She took me in her arms and held me close. I wept for a long time. She comforted me. And so did the prince. I asked if my family would be released after the war? He said, Of course they will, Gabri. That day will come. And it will be a day of rejoicing.

Later when I was back in my room I held on to that thought. I lay down on the bed, where my mother had slept, and I felt her presence once more. She was there with me. Hovering over me like a guardian angel. I could smell the scent of roses. Her favorite perfume. And if I closed my eyes I could hear her voice. Her lovely silky English voice. I wept for my family until I fell asleep.

That evening friends of the von Wittingens came to dinner. I saw them in the distance. Once I had eaten with the children and Gretchen I went back to my room. I was at ease there. I felt closer to my mother within those four walls. And safer.

Tomorrow Anita was coming to stay. This pleased me. I couldn’t wait for Markus to arrive with her. I soon fell asleep. I was exhausted. I must have slept for about an hour, maybe longer. Suddenly I woke up at the sound of voices in my room. I lay still, terrified. Listening. Had the Gestapo come to take me away to the camps? Within seconds I realized I was alone. Yet I still heard the voices. I turned on the lamp. My room was empty. The voices were coming from the fireplace. From the room underneath mine, downstairs. The parlor. I got out of bed and went to kneel in the empty fireplace. I heard Irina say, But even if Hitler is assassinated there is still the government to deal with. That is true, a man’s voice responded. I recognized it. It was Reinhard von Tiegal speaking. He continued, I’m not planning to commit tyrannicide, I’m only speculating about it.

Another man’s voice entered the conversation. I knew it was Sigmund Westheim. He said, Any plot to kill Hitler would have to be comprehensive. Power would have to be seized instantly. Chosen men would have to run the government, they would have to be ready to take over the minute he was dead. Take full control.

Kurt said, There are many committed anti-Nazis amongst us. Maybe one of them can formulate a plan to get rid of that madman in the Reich Chancellery. I understand from certain sources that there have been a lot of crazy outbursts lately. He’s obviously totally mad. I tremble when I think of the atrocities he’ll commit next, if he isn’t stopped. I blame Hitler for that unconscionable brutality against the Jews.
Kristallnacht
was entirely his doing.