Chapter 56
I remained in Island Farm Camp for two more years after the war ended, knowing that my turn for repatriation would eventually come.
But now when I thought of home, I thought of Cora’s house, Jane putting the kettle on and white-haired Dio getting his suit out for me to wear so that I could feel normal again.
‘Let’s get married,’ I said to Cora one evening, and Cora said, ‘Yes, let’s,’ just like that.
Despite our engagement, I thought it might be impossible considering all the rules I’d lived under for the last seven years.
But Cora was more confident and she applied to the Home Office for permission for me to live in Britain permanently, and it was granted.
In Island Farm Camp XI, on the morning of 31 January 1948, I was in my room looking in my shaving mirror and straightening my tie. I wetted my comb and ran it through my hair, then took a deep breath and turned to Kurt. ‘How do I look?’
Kurt grinned. ‘Exactly as a proud bridegroom should look. Lucky you,’ he added enviously, punching my arm, ‘you’ll have Cora to warm you in bed tonight.’
‘Yes.’ I grinned, imagining it.
‘How does it feel to be marrying a former enemy?’ Kurt asked slyly.
I turned the question around in my head, and shrugged.
‘I was never her enemy, nor she mine,’ I replied, because I knew it to be the truth.
I had thought a good deal about the deaths of my mother and sister, and of Cora’s brother, and I believed that they above all would approve of our love. ‘Right. I’m ready. Let’s go.’
‘Wait a minute, we’ve got something for you.’ Kurt beckoned towards the door and suddenly the room was full of pals and they passed a homemade wedding card from hand to hand.
‘Signed by von Rundstedt himself,’ Kurt said cheerfully, handing it to me with a flourish.
It was addressed to Mr and Mrs Frank Muller, 5 Island Farm Avenue, Bridgend.
The message inside read:
On the day of your wedding our very best wishes for a long life full of happiness and good companionship.
31 January 1948
Signed: Kurt Smuts
Adam von Trott
Gunter Schneider
Gustav Sandig
Wolfgang Tirpitz
General-Feldmarschall Gerd von Rundstedt
I was very pleased. Tonight, as her husband, I would show Cora the card from the camp, wishing us a long life full of happiness and good companionship, signed by my friends.
When we reached the parish church, a little group of well-wishers had gathered by the lychgate. Kurt and I shyly nodded our greetings and went inside, into the cool and holy dark.
I saw Jane, Gladdie, Megan, Idwal, Temperance and Enid sitting in the congregation, flowers in their lapels, turning to us and smiling.
Moments later Cora came down the aisle on her father’s arm. She was carrying a bouquet of purple hyacinths and her expression was serious.
As she stood next to me I breathed in the scent of her bouquet. ‘Cora,’ I said, worried that she was having doubts.
When she looked up at me at last, her face cleared.
Her grey eyes met mine and she smiled joyfully, as if she’d been scared to look.
I smiled too and I couldn’t stop smiling.
Back then, when we’d first met, Cora had given me hope for the future.
Now I was giving her hope for the future and it felt right to make my home with her here in my new Heimat. My homeland.
Elisavet closed the notebook and looked up at Cora. ‘The story finishes here.’
‘You’ve brought him back to me,’ Cora said, smiling through tears. ‘It’s been a lovely time for me. Thank you. I’ve enjoyed our evenings together.’
‘And me, too.’ Elisavet stretched and then she finished her wine. ‘Love makes things possible,’ she said, her gaze lingering for a moment on Cora, on the candle, on the clay. ‘Good night.’