Forty-Seven
Forty-Seven
T oday is the day. I don’t know what time.
I suppose it doesn’t matter. If only I could block it from my mind, think of something else.
I told Mutti I was feverish and didn’t want to go to school.
She doesn’t care whether I go or not. School has little meaning anymore, and Mutti is so absorbed in herself that nothing really touches her these days.
The midday light is strong, and patches of sunlight splash color onto the rug by my bed.
I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling.
But it isn’t possible to think of anything else.
Today, the love of my life is getting married, only not to me.
My hand strays to my belly. I leave it there, resting on the soft curve of it.
Under my fingers, the faintest of flutters.
Butterfly wings. I quickly turn onto my side and they’re gone.
Slowly, I roll back, gingerly placing my fingertips once more on the low part of my belly.
My heart stops. There it is again. A tiny pulse beneath my skin.
Like some ghastly insect has gotten trapped in there and is tap, tap, tapping to find a way out.
Something Walter left behind.
I’m frozen, hand on stomach, a buzz in my ears. Hundreds, or is it thousands, of kilometers away, Walter is about to get married, and I am carrying his baby in my belly.
I can’t deny my swelling breasts and the soft rounding of my body anymore. I must be four and a half months gone.
With trembling fingers, I take Walter’s letter from where it is folded and hidden inside the pages of my journal. The paper has softened and thinned with so much handling. I stare again at the post office address at the bottom of the letter. He says to write in an emergency.
I doubt if this is the type of emergency he envisioned.
I picture him on this day. Twenty years old, at the start of everything.
Excited? Nervous? Sad his family members aren’t there?
Will he spare a thought for me? And then there is Anna.
This faceless girl I know nothing about, who will begin a future with this most perfect of humans.
She will be wearing a beautiful dress. Her hair curled and styled.
Radiant and happy beyond words. Her belly flat and empty.
But for how long? And when she feels this fluttering of new life, she will be excited, and he will be there for her.
I pulse with hate. And fear.
I haul myself out of bed and dress slowly. I have no enthusiasm. I’m bone-achingly weary. I dress carefully. The skirt a little looser in style than one I’d have chosen before. The pleats cover my thickening belly.
What on earth am I going to do?
“W HY DIDN ’ T YOU come to school today?”
Erna is at the front door. Her cheeks are pinched, her lips pressed closed. Her usual smile is absent.
“I’m not feeling great, that’s all.”
“You didn’t tell anyone, but it’s okay, I covered for you.”
“They don’t care whether I’m there or not.”
“Probably not. But anyway... can I come in, Hett, or do we have to talk on the doorstep?”
I pull the door open wide and we climb the stairs to my room.
As soon as the door shuts, I burst into tears. Floods and floods of self-pity.
“What is it? Hetty, whatever is wrong?”
Erna’s arms are around me, and she hugs me tight. I’m crying so hard, I can’t say anything, I just shake my head.
“Please, whatever is the matter?” Erna pleads.
“It’s—”
But how can I possibly tell her? The shame, the horror, of the Jewish fetus in my belly. The absolute proof that I have committed a crime worse than murder. That I’ve sullied the purity of my blood.
“Shh, shh. Come on, whatever it is, it can’t be this bad.” She tries to laugh, guides me to the window seat. Strokes my hair.
Slowly, my body stops heaving and the tears dry. I’m so exhausted I can hardly form words.
“He got married today,” I tell her.
“Oh, Hett...”
“And I need to get rid of Tomas. He’s supposed to be coming again on Sunday... I can’t face him. But I’m scared, Erna, scared if I reject him, he’ll tell people he once saw me kissing Walter. I never told you, but he has this hold over me...”
“Is that why you’ve been walking out with him?
Because you’re afraid he’ll expose you? Oh, Hetty, he won’t talk.
He wouldn’t dare. Besides, Walter’s out of the country and it’d be his word against yours.
” Erna half laughs. “Come on, it’s really not that bad.
Which of you would they pay more attention to?
Look, I know you’re upset about Walter, but it’s done now, and you have to move on.
You’ve lost Karl, too, and with Tomas breathing down your neck. .. it’s just all too much.”
She straightens.
“That’s it!” she says firmly. “That’s how we get rid of Tomas, for a while at least. And once he joins the Heer, well, then he’ll be properly off your back.”
“How?” I wipe my eyes and blow my nose. My head throbs.
“You leave Tomas to me. I’ll tell him you’re still grieving for Karl and he needs to give you space for a few weeks—no, months. To leave you alone and not bother you. That will let him down gently. How does that sound?”
I nod slowly. It would give me space and time to think of how I can deal with this mess.
Perhaps it will just go away. It happens, doesn’t it?
Miscarriage. You hear about them all the time.
Perhaps that will happen to me and then everything will be okay.
Much better that I don’t see Tomas, because the way he looks at me, he’s sure to notice soon enough.
And he, of all people, will be able to work out who the father is.
“Thank you, Erna. You’re a true friend.”
“It’s nothing.” She squeezes my hand. “I just want to see you smiling again, dearest Hetty.”
A FTER E RNA HAS gone, I settle back in my window seat with my journal. The soft cushions mold in familiarity to my back and around my legs. Kuschi jumps up and curls himself against me, thumping his tail on the cushions. I stroke his silky coat a few times, then begin to write.
I know you are married now, but I shan’t ever stop thinking about you, dearest Walter.
It would be impossible because you are part of my very being.
I cannot see that this will ever change, however much time passes by.
Today has been torture. I don’t need to say why.
But now that it’s done, I feel some kind of weird, inevitable calm.
As though as your new life starts, mine is somehow over.
I hope you are happy though, I really do, and I’m glad beyond anything you’re safe.
That’s why I’ve made up my mind. I am not going to tell you.
I’m keeping what’s happened a secret, because it will be better for YOU that way.
And that’s what matters to me the most. My love for you is completely unselfish.
As for me, I shall pray every day that this problem will solve itself.
Because if it doesn’t, I know that I am doomed.
I cannot even bear to think... Perhaps that night Tomas got carried away, perhaps it would have been better if he’d gone through with it.
Then this would have been easier to explain.
But it’s too late now. Much too late. Nobody can help me.
So please, God, if you are there, make this easy for me. Make this thing go away.