Chapter 28
A fter breakfast with the family, Lizzie offered to help Sophie in the bookshop, so they walked into the city together. The air was fresh and crisp, the sun sheltering behind clouds, as if torn between lingering in winter mode and ushering in spring.
‘How has business been?’ Lizzie asked over a cup of tea Sophie made them in the little staff room after a flurry of customers left and the shop fell quiet.
‘As you can see this morning, we get customers coming in to browse, but purchases are few and far between.’
‘It must be difficult to make ends meet,’ Lizzie said, feeling for her cousin, who was pouring all her energy into the struggling business.
Sophie clasped her hands around her teacup, and her pretty face took on a gloomy expression. ‘It is. Thank goodness we have Papa’s income to live on. The shop barely covers its costs.’
Lizzie was curious. ‘Why don’t you close it? At least until the war is over. It’s understandable people find it hard to justify buying books when they struggle to feed their children.’
‘You’re right, of course,’ Sophie said, her eyes misting up. ‘My parents say the same thing, even though they are always supportive, and Maman helps when she can.’
Lizzie rested her cup on the counter and patted Sophie’s hand. ‘It’s because of your dear friend, Judith, isn’t it? You feel you’ll be letting her down if you don’t keep the shop going for her family.’
Sophie clasped Lizzie’s hand like a lifeline and bowed her head.
‘I can’t bring myself to abandon the dream that we’ll keep the shop going and, when this madness ends, they will return and resume a normal life in France.
The madness will end, won’t it, Lizzie?’ Sophie whispered her cousin’s real name and tears sprang from her eyes.
Lizzie held Sophie in a tight embrace, and they hugged like when they were little girls and all they had to worry about was what they would do to entertain themselves that afternoon if it rained.
‘We are living through the worst of times, but we will come through it. We must all stay strong. I think what you’re doing is admirable, but don’t let it destroy you.
If you can’t sustain the business financially, no one would think badly of you, certainly not Judith and the family you’ve tried so hard to help. I feel sure of that.’
The tears dripped down Sophie’s cheeks. Lizzie hadn’t seen her so distraught. ‘Is there something more that you haven’t told me? You can trust me, Soph. I promise that whatever you tell me will stay between us. A trouble shared is a trouble halved and all that … What is it?’
By now, Sophie had fully surrendered to her tears, and she was sniffing and gasping as she sobbed. Lizzie just held her, and they rocked together without speaking, both grieving for the carefree lives they had lost.
Gradually, Sophie’s sobs subsided, and she straightened herself and pulled away, rubbing her red-rimmed eyes. Lizzie produced a handkerchief from her pocket, and Sophie blew her nose and managed a watery smile.
‘There, that’s better,’ Lizzie consoled her. ‘Sometimes, a good cry is what the soul needs. Why don’t we sit down, and you can tell me what’s on your mind? I might be able to help.’
Sophie sank onto the sofa, and Lizzie joined her, cup in hand.
Sophie sniffed. ‘I don’t know where to begin, so much has happened.’
‘Begin at the beginning. We’ll hear the door if a customer comes in, won’t we?’
Sophie said that they would, and the words spilled out in a torrent as she told Lizzie how the Cohen family had arranged to leave France as the Nazi threat tightened its grip on the Jewish population throughout Europe.
‘Early in 1939, Jews were still managing to reach British Mandatory Palestine, and Judith and her family applied for immigration certificates, but then the British started severely restricting Jewish immigration and denied them entry.’
‘What happened after that?’ prompted Lizzie before she drained her tea and placed the cup on the small table.
‘Judith didn’t want to go. She couldn’t bear to leave St. Malo, as it was the only home she’d known.
Her parents were devastated when their application was refused because they had come to terms with leaving everything behind and starting a new life in Eretz Israel, the Land of Israel.
The terrible stories from Germany, and the growing antisemitism in France, convinced them they had to leave.
They planned to sell the shop and get out as soon as possible. ’
‘How sad,’ Lizzie said, choking up. ‘So, are they safely in America?’
‘That’s just it. We have heard nothing from them. I pray for them every night.’ Sophie’s eyes teared up again. ‘They left last year. What if they were caught and sent to a concentration camp? You’ve heard the rumours?’
Lizzie had heard more than rumours—she had read chilling intelligence reports about mass killings of Jews, and the genocide in Eastern Europe was escalating rapidly.
There was no point frightening Sophie even more, and she couldn’t reveal what she knew anyway, so she said, ‘There’s no mail allowed in. You wouldn’t really expect to hear from them, would you?’
Sophie wiped her eyes and hiccupped. ‘The Cohens said they would try to get a letter to us via the American embassy, using a different name.’
‘Don’t give up hope. It doesn’t mean they didn’t reach America,’ Lizzie said.
‘I know, but poor Judith is distraught …’ Sophie’s words trailed off.
A startling thought occurred to Lizzie. ‘How do you know?’
Sophie raised her finger to her lips and looked around as if they might be overheard.
Lizzie moved closer and whispered. ‘Where is Judith?’
‘She’s at the farmhouse with Fabian. Sorry I didn’t tell you. We’ve been keeping it a secret for so long, you see.’
‘Do your parents know?’
Sophie nodded. ‘Fabian and Judith fell in love before the war broke out, and that’s one reason she refused to leave with her family, even though Fabian encouraged her to get to safety.’
‘It’s all making sense,’ Lizzie said, her mind whirring. The strange noise at the farmhouse and the nagging feeling Sophie was keeping something from her. ‘So, you’ve been protecting your friend all this time. That must be difficult.’
Sophie nodded. ‘We live in perpetual fear they will discover the truth, and then who knows what they’ll do if they find out we bought the bookshop to help the Cohens?
They monitor the remaining Jewish population closely, and since Judith’s family left, there have been increasing restrictions and deportations.
Fabian warned us we must get her off the register, and he was right. ’
‘I can only imagine how scary that must be,’ Lizzie said.
She knew all too well what it was like to live under a false identity and be in danger of discovery at any moment.
At least she had a reasonable chance of returning to her life in London.
This terrible reality was Judith’s permanent existence in occupied France.
‘Now you understand why our families are intertwined and I fight so hard to keep the bookshop.’
‘You can trust me,’ Lizzie said. ‘I will do whatever is in my power to help.’
‘You are an angel,’ Sophie said. ‘I can’t tell you how much it’s meant to me to have you here. You remind me of all the good things I miss.’
Lizzie asked, ‘How does Fabian keep Judith’s presence in St. Lunaire a secret?’
‘He knows people who do that kind of thing,’ Sophie whispered. ‘They made new identity papers for Judith, so she is registered as a non-Jew. She has a ration book and everything. We call her Fleur Robert.’
Sophie rose and boiled more water, then handed Lizzie a cup of weak coffee and sat back down on the sofa to resume her tragic tale.
‘The antisemitism was terrible at school. Judith was my best friend even then, and I could never understand how some kids could be so cruel. Once, I got into an actual physical fight standing up for her and came home with a black eye. They called me a Jew-lover, as if it were an insult. Then, after the invasion when the Boche introduced the anti-Jewish orders, the prejudice morphed into pure evil, and my parents agreed we had to do something.’
Lizzie was certain she would have gone to battle for Hannah Stein if they were school friends, and the thought of Judith and Hannah being persecuted because they were Jewish made her blood boil.
Sophie said, ‘Judith told me that her name literally means woman of Judea. And Cohen was the name of the Ancient Israelite priests who served in the Jewish Temple in Jerusalem before the Romans destroyed it. Even at school, her name put a target on her back, poor girl.’
Lizzie’s chest welled with emotion at the injustice, but she fought to keep her composure. Hearing Judith’s story and seeing her cousin in such distress was heart-wrenching.
A ring of the doorbell made Sophie jump to her feet. ‘Thank goodness for the bell. I’d better see who it is.’
Lizzie ran her hands over the skirt of her crumpled dress and followed Sophie out to the shop, her thoughts still full of Judith and Fabian at the farmhouse.
She raised her head and saw Heinrich Alder stroll into the shop, his blond hair glinting in the sun. He wore no coat today, and the red, white and black Swastika armband dominated the left sleeve of his uniform.
Sophie recovered first. ‘Good morning, Herr Adler. What may I help you with today? We have some new editions in stock if you would care to take a look.’
‘Good morning, mademoiselle,’ he said. ‘How very kind. I will perhaps return at another time to peruse the new collection, but today I am here on official business.’
Lizzie also greeted Heinrich, fear prickling over her skin at the mention of official business. With every passing day in St. Malo, she had more secrets to hide.
‘I hoped to find you here,’ he continued, turning his full attention to Lizzie. ‘I would like you to accompany me on a drive to inspect our coastal defences. It occurred to me it would be most helpful in your surveying work.’
Lizzie stared at Heinrich, not quite believing his audacity. She felt like a mouse snagged in a trap with no way out.
‘My driver is just outside, Rose.’