Chapter Twenty-Four #3
‘Your son, Michael, is a fine boy.’ Did she understand the nuance of the word ‘fine’?
Why had he said ‘Michael’ like that? He mentally kicked himself.
She knows the name of her own son! Fool!
He selected a plate from the drainer. Lifting it caused the others to clatter noisily.
Her eyes darted to them and only returned to her washing up when they finally settled.
Feeling all fingers and thumbs, he carefully dried the plate as he studied her. How could he broach such a personal subject that even her husband could not?
He cleared his throat, deciding to lay his cards on the table. I knew a . . . I know a . . . I once met a . . .
‘Elsa!’ he blurted out.
She paused and looked up at him, confused.
‘Her name was Elsa.’
‘Who?’
‘A German woman I can’t stop thinking about.’
She returned her attention to the sink, but the dirty dishes remained half submerged and untouched this time.
‘I met her during the war.’
‘You liked her?’
‘Very much.’
‘She liked you?’
‘I think so.’
‘Very much?’
‘Yes, I think very much.’
She began washing the dishes again, but this time slower, more gently, with circular motions that were hypnotic to watch.
‘You miss her?’
‘Very much.’
‘Then why are you not together?’
‘Because it wasn’t possible. And I didn’t know it could be possible — until now. Is it?’
‘Is it, what?’
‘Possible?’
‘I am here.’
‘I can see that.’ Her simple reply did not answer the question, probably because, he realized, he hadn’t even asked it. ‘Are you happy in England?’
She gave him a smile that did not quite reach her eyes. ‘Yes.’
‘Is it possible to live happily in England — being who you are?’ He was being clumsy with his words, but how do you point out the obvious without implying she was clothed in the stigma of guilt?
‘You mean because I am German?’
He flushed, embarrassed at his tactlessness. His discomfort did not go unnoticed.
‘I am not ashamed that I am German. If you want a future with this woman—’
‘Elsa.’
‘—Elsa, then you should never make her feel ashamed either.’
He shook his head vehemently. ‘I wouldn’t.’ I did once, before I got to know her.
She did not look convinced. ‘If you do not accept it then how can you expect others to?’
He watched her carefully. ‘How do others treat you?’
‘It doesn’t matter now.’
‘It does to me. Elsa may not be alive, or if we meet again, we may find we no longer love each other — but if the love is there I would like us to be married. If it is going to be difficult to live in England then I want to warn her. And if it is too hard, then maybe it is best if I do not search for her at all.’
Helene lifted her gaze to stare out of the kitchen window. The back garden was in bloom, the grass needed cutting and a child’s football lay abandoned in the tall blades.
‘You want to know what it is really like?’
He nodded, unsure if he really did. If she was desperately unhappy, would that stop his need to search for Elsa?
‘You will not tell Ben how I feel?’
He nodded, reassured that Ben did not want to know.
‘Being married to an occupying soldier in Germany had certain privileges.’ She turned and leaned her back against the sink. She tilted her head at him. ‘Privileges can make every soldier look handsome.’
‘You didn’t love Ben?’
‘I didn’t say that, but there were other women who saw a better life for themselves in another country and targeted the British and American soldiers because of it.
They were young men away from home and fell in love as easily as the young women who found them “handsome”.
’ She looked down at her hand and gently turned the modest wedding ring on her finger.
‘When Ben proposed, I thought we would have the same privileges in England. I thought England was the land of aristocrats and lush, grassy fields, better than the rubble and chaos of Berlin.’ She shoved her hands into the pockets of her apron.
‘I don’t think any of us thought of what leaving our country really meant. ’
‘Us?’
‘The other women on the ship who followed their husbands to England. I was not the only German woman on board.’ She lifted her gaze. ‘How naive we were.’
‘You came over on a ship?’
‘A ship and then a train once we had our immigration papers. When I arrived, there was a shortage of houses. Ben left the army six months after our arrival. His new job did not pay well. I had not expected England to still have food rationing. Although I was right about the fields being lush and green, England was not what I imagined. His parents offered him a home and work, so we came to Cornwall. Many of my friends found themselves in crowded cities with only a room and a kitchen. They found living in a city very lonely. Compared to them, I was lucky.’
‘Did things improve?’ He could hear the desperation in his voice. Her success would give him hope.
‘Ben’s parents were kind to me, but I had just had a baby and at times like that you need your own mother.
However, Ben’s parents were, and still are, very good to me.
’ She sighed. ‘But many were not. In the early days some people were horrible to my face, but many more showed it in their glances.
It was very hard at first. Loneliness can kill a person.
‘I did what I could to not stand out. I tried to not look German. I studied the other women in the village and dressed my hair like them. I cook only British food. I stopped thinking in German and only speak English to my child. Even this baby—’ she touched her belly — ‘hears my English voice. But I cannot hide my accent and people notice it quickly. I still miss my family and no matter how I try to fit in, it does not stop the homesickness. It has been several years and even now I long to taste and smell the dishes of my youth.’
‘Does Ben know how you feel?’
‘No. And you must never tell him. I love him and now—’ she smoothed the small bump in her tummy — ‘I have my children.’
‘I’m so sorry.’
‘Don’t be. Things have improved in the last couple of years.
It is a small village, where people cannot avoid one another.
I began to volunteer for things and, eventually, they wanted to know more about me.
And when you get to know someone it is more difficult to hate them.
I feel more accepted and my confidence has grown.
I have made friends, and my ability to speak English, I am told, has improved.
I have not spoken my native language for several years.
However, I know my accent will always single me out.
It will take a generation before the wounds are healed, but I believe in my heart that my children will not face the same hostility as I did . . . and at times, still do.’
‘It sounds as if you regret coming here.’
She shook her head vehemently. ‘No. That is wrong. If I had to do it all again to be with Ben, then I would. It was harder than I imagined. It was more painful than I expected, but I was naive, in love, and looking for financial stability. Marrying Ben was what I wanted and I don’t regret it.
I just wish it had been easier in the beginning.
I wish my family were with me. I wish the war never happened.
But I do not wish, nor will I ever wish, I did not marry Ben.
I was lucky — I married because I loved him.
Those who found it the hardest did not marry for love, they married for a better life that did not really exist.’
She had been honest, revealing emotions and thoughts that up until now he doubted she had dared to share with anyone. Yet it still felt as if something was missing.
‘I asked you earlier if you were happy in England. Was that the truth?’
She stroked her hands down the front of her apron, curving around her unborn child as only a mother could.
‘I sometimes fear that Ben would be happier with an English wife. He has faced hostility too. Not as much now, but he has put up with a lot. In the early days I was moody, tearful and sullen, but I was fighting my own war that I dared not share with him. How do you share how painful it feels to be ignored at the shop counter when your own husband has had his friends die in the war? I want to be a wife he is proud of, Sam, not one he feels he has to warn his guests about.’
In that moment, Sam realized she had heard them at the gate.
How many times had she listened with bated breath to her husband’s hushed voice giving the ultimatum to his visitor?
If you can’t accept my German wife, then we should say goodbye.
To feel compelled to ask such a question hinted at what he had faced without her.
Hitler had left a stain on every German, no matter if they had been a Nazi supporter or not.
It was a stain others saw when they looked at her and heard her accent.
Would it be possible to ever wash that stain away?
And Helene feared Ben would leave her because of it.
He wanted to chase her fears away, and who better to do it than a former soldier?
‘I have no doubt that Ben loves you very much. I don’t think he would be as happy as he is now if he wasn’t with you.
When we met he was so proud to tell me he was married with a child and one on the way.
And his warning was only his way of protecting you. There was no shame in his tone.’
A shy smile blossomed on her face, lighting up her eyes in a way he had not seen before. Doubt had a lot to answer for, he thought as they turned to the sink in unison to continue washing the dishes. It had the ability to blight any moment that should be filled with joy.
‘Will you still search for Elsa?’
In silence, Sam dried the plate in his hand.
‘Sam?’
‘Yes, I will start searching for her again. I have to find out if she is all right. I thought this need to know would fade, but with every year it has grown.’
They heard Ben returning.