My Name is Eva An absolutely gripping and emotional historical novel - Suzanne Goldring Page 0,31
at our centre told me he and his wife are only getting four pieces of bread a day each.’
Brian shook his head slowly, then said, ‘All of that’s important, yes, but what we also need now is humanity and dignity. In fact, relief and rehabilitation. It’s the most gigantic problem ever seen. Can you believe there’s currently something like eleven million people in this country who didn’t ask to be here? All those poor beggars who survived those ghastly camps and the factories that ran on slave labour.’
‘I had absolutely no idea it was so many.’
‘Poor devils can’t go home without our help. Many have lost their whole family, while others are desperately trying to trace their relatives. Some of them will never get back home, some will choose to emigrate and get away to start a new life. All we can do is feed them, help them get healthy, if that’s ever going to be possible, and sort out their paperwork.’
‘It sounds like it needs a lot of administration and interpretation, as well as supplies and medicine. I can do that. I came to Germany wanting to do my bit and this could be my chance to really help at last.’
‘Good girl! But it won’t be an easy job. These people have suffered terribly. But at least they’ve survived this far and with the right kind of help they may be able to go on to rebuild their lives. But it’s only the displaced people we’re helping, not the Germans themselves.’ He put down his plate with a thump, making the little cake fork jump and clatter. ‘They got themselves into this mess, they don’t deserve our sympathy or our food.’
For a second Eva remembered the ragged children, the women with scarves knotted over their heads, the men in tattered army uniforms. She told herself to stifle her compassion for them and said, ‘Will there be a uniform?’
He laughed. ‘Not particularly. Come as you are. Anyone asks why you’re still in ATS kit, blame it on me.’ Then he gave her his card and told her to phone him once she’d reported sick.
Eva never forgot that interview, nor the disturbing encounter that occurred just as she was leaving the hotel. After agreeing details with Joliffe and thanking him for his hospitality, she walked through the mirrored reception area, smiling properly for the first time in weeks and congratulating herself on using her accumulated cigarette ration to pay one of the regular drivers for the use of the car.
It was going to happen, she would escape Bad Nenndorf. She would call in sick in the morning and adopt a phantom pregnancy, as suggested, to spirit her away from that ghastly place. She was nearly at the entrance with its large glazed doors when she heard a brittle but familiar voice, which sent a piercing chill into her heart: ‘Kuscheck! What the hell are you doing here?’
She turned. To her horror, Colonel Robinson was coming down the sweeping staircase, ahead of the group of men she’d spotted earlier. He strode towards her, heels clicking on the polished stone floor. ‘Well, well, well… What have you been up to? Having a little private assignation, eh?’
‘No, sir. Just tea. I mean coffee. And cake.’
‘Just so long as you’re not talking about our operation.’ His eyes narrowed and he jerked his chin. ‘Insubordination is punishable, you know.’
‘I was just leaving, sir.’
‘Mind how you drive then. Wouldn’t want you having an unfortunate accident now, would we?’ He tapped his swagger stick several times on the palm of his left hand. ‘There are penalties for that too, you know.’
24
Eva, 10 November 1945
Morning Sickness
It wasn’t hard to fake nausea when every day of witnessing the interrogations brought a new wave of revulsion. Eva closed her eyes, covered her mouth with her hand and pretended to retch in plain sight. She created pallor with a lighter face powder and hollow eyes with smudged eyebrow pencil.
After three or four days in which she only picked at dry, bland foods at mealtimes and sipped plain water, Jimmy cornered her: ‘You feeling all right? You’re looking a bit peaky, if you don’t mind me saying.’
She looked around the canteen, checking no one was listening. ‘I took your advice about the hotel. I hope to be leaving very soon.’ She rested her hand on his arm. ‘Whatever you hear next, just don’t believe a word of it.’