Chapter Thirty-Six Aletta
Chapter Thirty-Six
Aletta
Aletta held tightly to her mother’s hand as they stood on the Malmo docks two days later. She was still numb, and she balled her other hand into a fist when she thought about Chloe. Chloe, who would be holding my other hand if we were all here together.
They’d all been so close to surviving, and the only thing that had saved Aletta from giving up at Ravensbrück were the papers in her pocket and the promise she’d made to Chloe, even though Aletta knew how much Chloe had struggled as the keeper of those words.
Aletta glanced at the other women around her.
There were so many, and she remembered the last time she’d stood on a platform not unlike the docks where they were now, waiting to be processed.
She could understand why some women screamed when the nurses here reached for them, why so many were fearful of what was to come, that nothing was more terrifying than being told of the delousing chambers in the next tent.
They’d all been told lies before about what happened to fellow inmates, and until they saw the first women emerge out on the other side, unscathed, she doubted anyone would trust what was happening, would truly begin to believe their nightmare was over.
There was a woman beside her carrying a tiny, yawning infant in a box, and Aletta smiled at her, sensing her relief. But it also broke her heart, because if Chloe had been there, they would have smiled down at the little baby together, imagining the life she might have now that she’d been rescued.
‘I just want to go home,’ Aletta murmured, not even realising that she’d said the words aloud until her mother leaned into her and replied.
‘So do I. Just remember that we’re closer to going home now than we’ve ever been.’
She nodded. They were safer in Sweden than they would be anywhere else, she supposed, but still. She wanted to leave all of this behind and take her mother home. To try to rebuild what they had left of their lives. To forget the ordeal they’d suffered.
‘Come this way,’ a nurse said, and like many of the women they’d come across, this nurse had tears in her eyes as she helped them. Another had fainted when she’d seen the first skeletal women step off the boat, and at least two had run away, not able to cope with what they saw.
They shuffled forward, thanking the volunteers who came up with little cookies and other baked goods, nibbling at them slowly as their stomachs groaned in pain. Aletta wasn’t sure what hurt more – being so violently hungry or feeling food regularly landing in her stomach after so long being empty.
‘Come this way for delousing,’ the woman said. ‘Once you pass through here, all your clothes will be burned to get rid of the lice, and new clothes and provisions will be waiting for you in the church and the town hall.’
‘It’s all right, no one is going to hurt you,’ said another. ‘We’re going to look after you. There is nothing to fear here.’
Their words were kind, but still Aletta tightened her arm around her stomach, not wanting to change out of the only clothes she had, even though they were little more than rags.
The Red Cross workers wouldn’t understand that talk of burning was enough to make most of the prisoners instinctively run away, that the last time they’d been told to take off their clothes and part with their belongings, they’d been left with almost nothing.
It took everything she had not to turn on her heel, and if she hadn’t been the caretaker of Chloe’s papers, maybe she would have.
‘Excuse me,’ she said, beckoning to one of the volunteers.
The woman came over. ‘I have something important that I need to give to the authorities,’ Aletta said. ‘Important documents.’
‘There’ll be time to—’
‘I don’t want them to get damaged in the delousing chamber.’
The woman looked confused, and Aletta wondered if she would even be able to comprehend the number of women who’d been murdered, or how important the list truly was.
No matter how kind they were or how passionately they wanted to help, she doubted that anyone who hadn’t seen the camps first-hand could ever understand.
‘These records are all we have left from many of the women at our camp,’ Aletta’s mother said beside her, her voice quiet but steady. ‘It is of great importance that these are preserved.’
The woman nodded, her eyes widening as she listened, as if she was trying to understand. ‘Then let me find someone who can help you,’ she finally said.
‘A man named Mr Folke Bernadotte wanted these papers passed to the highest level of authority,’ Aletta added, thinking of the kindly gentleman from the tent camp. She had no clue whether his name held weight here or not, but she was certainly going to try.
The woman’s eyes widened even more, and Aletta knew she’d made the right decision in mentioning him. ‘You met Count Bernadotte?’
Count? He hadn’t used a title when he’d introduced himself, but she didn’t doubt the sincerity of the woman standing before her.
‘He personally aided us just two days ago,’ her mother said. ‘You speak as if he’s well known to you?’
The woman swallowed, looking between them. ‘You truly don’t know, do you?’
Aletta frowned. ‘Know what?’
‘The Count is the reason you’re standing here. He negotiated for your release and organised the white buses.’ The woman’s smile was warm when she reached for Aletta’s hand. ‘Why don’t you come with me, and I’ll find somewhere safe to place these papers of yours while you’re treated.’
Aletta’s instinct was to trust this woman, and when she glanced at her mother and received her little nod of approval, she decided to give them to her.
Aletta took the papers from her inside pocket, her fingers trembling as she held the documents out.
They were smudged with blood and looked so battered she was surprised the pages were still holding together, that the words were even legible.
‘I promise I’ll keep them safe,’ the woman said. ‘You follow your way into the tent, and I’ll wait for you on the other side. Then we can take it to the authorities together. Someone in processing will be able to help us.’
Aletta nodded, resisting the urge to reach over and snatch the papers back.
‘May I look?’
The woman’s softly spoken words took her by surprise, but Aletta nodded, watching as she unfolded the papers. Her eyes tracked over the first page, and then the next, and the next, until tears filled her eyes as she read a recipe with the name Anna printed at the bottom.
‘Your friend . . .’
Aletta shook her head. ‘We lost her. But this is her legacy.’
She watched the woman fold the list again and placed it with the other papers safely in her breast pocket.
‘I understand.’ She gently touched Aletta’s shoulder, her smile kind.
‘Once we have these in the right hands, we’re going to take you to the hall and find you a bed and some nice new clothes.
Someone will take you to a hot bath when you’re ready, and there will be food for you whenever you need it. You’re safe here, truly you are.’
They stood for a moment, the woman’s kind smile never wavering, before Aletta’s mother took her hand and tugged her forward. And Aletta had the most overwhelming feeling as they entered the tent and stood behind a screen to remove their clothes.
That it was almost time to go home. That after so long, when home had seemed like somewhere she’d never see again, it was almost time.
Her father was gone. Chloe was gone. But the horrors of war, of the Nazi camp and its endless cruelty, were finally over.
The people she’d loved and lost would never be forgotten. The friends she’d made, the children she’d taught, they would live in her heart forever, and those she’d lost would surely haunt her dreams.
Once Chloe’s papers were securely with the Swedish authorities, it would be over.
Aletta stood up straight then, looking at the women ahead of her and behind her, feeling an inner strength that she’d long since forgotten she possessed. And that was when she saw her.
The girl with the big blue eyes. The little girl she’d worried about since the very beginning of the war.
Aletta held up a hand, laughing when the girl, now a teenager, smiled back at her and waved.
Else had survived. She’d made it.
In a world that held very little hope and so much heartache, the fact that the little girl from her past was standing there, safe, felt like the biggest miracle of all.