My Name is Eva An absolutely gripping and emotional historical novel - Suzanne Goldring Page 0,44
where there was no glazing in the windows, no blankets, and the walls and floors were slick with the chill of ice.
She had already decided she could not tolerate the work much longer, sitting at a desk, translating as the prisoners whispered their hoarse confessions, scribbling their incoherent words as Stephen ranted. But she had not known at first that she would one day try to make amends on their behalf as well as Hugh’s. All she knew then was that she wanted the brutality to stop. She had tried talking to the others, even tried speaking to Stephen, as he was the colonel in charge, but all they ever said, almost with one voice, was, ‘If they have any useful information, we have to get it out of them.’
I should have realised sooner, she reflected. I was so naive. I could see how deprived they all were. Their clothes were filthy, they were bruised and beaten, with sores on their legs from those damn leg-irons. I should have known what was happening. None of the conventions of prisoner treatment were being observed and the abuse led to deaths. Why I took so long to understand, I don’t know, but when I recognised Kurt that day, I knew I had to help. I’d seen him arrive, healthy, wearing a clean shirt, and within weeks, he was barely alive.
And that’s when I made my promise. I leant forward at my desk, listening out for the steps that would warn me of his return, and said, ‘I promise, I will do whatever I can to stop this.’
But I didn’t do anything then. I took the cowardly way out and left. The Colonel tried to intimidate me when I bumped into him after my interview at the Kaiserhof Hotel and later when he dismissed me, but I never stopped him. I know I was able to do some good after I left, when I went to Wildflecken, but I never stopped the ill treatment in that godforsaken centre. It went on for another couple of years, by which time there had been more deaths and a trial. Yet the man who was responsible for all that horror still believes he was right; he believed then and believes now that he acted for the good of his country. Look at him, sitting there so pompous and self-satisfied, looking forward to a good lunch, a couple of glasses of wine and port with his Stilton. He doesn’t deserve it.
As usual, he had walked to the house from the station along empty lanes in bright wintry sun, meeting no one. ‘Don’t you ever feel nervous, living here all alone?’ he had said on arrival, his thin, dry lips giving her a brush on her cheek in what had become his customary greeting and farewell. ‘I didn’t see a single soul on my way here.’ He patted her shoulder as well, underlining a growing feeling of intimacy, and it occurred to her that he might be thinking of making a proposal of marriage, now that he had a clearer idea of her worth. The very idea made her shudder.
‘Oh, I feel quite safe in this house,’ she said, walking past him to the dining room, where she placed the glasses on the table set for lunch with white napkins and the silver she had inherited from her parents. During the week she ate in the kitchen with what she thought of as the ‘cook’s cutlery’, often having an end of cheese and a heel of bread for her lunch. But today was Sunday, the day when Stephen came to ogle her wealth. Sunday was a day to display her riches and possessions, so she made a point of showing him the best that Kingsley could offer. The more she showed him, the more he wanted.
Of course she had always expected him to relish the chance to size up her value, but what she hadn’t anticipated was his impatience; he couldn’t resist helping himself to a little of her wealth immediately. She had thought he might wish to handle her investments or perhaps even propose marriage, but it came as a surprise to her to find that he couldn’t resist taking a little something now and then. Was he really so hard up? Was he pawning or selling the souvenirs he spirited away? Or was it his way of thumbing his nose at her? Yes, that was more likely. And the more she tried to understand why he