Page 37 of The Girl with a Secret
“To risk my life for a cause such asthis?” he’d cut across her, his voice gentle. “To defeat Hitler and the great evil he is visiting upon the world? I want that opportunity, Rosa.” He’d turned to look at her seriously. “If it comes to war, and it will, you’ll have to do something, as well. Not fight, naturally, but serve in some way. A young, able-bodied woman? They might have you hoeing rows of potatoes, or welding planes together. Something, I’m sure.”
“I haven’t thought about it,” Rosa had admitted. “But I want to do my duty.” Especially if it got her out of the sweltering kitchen of the teashop.
Now, however, as they sat and waited for the Prime Minister to speak, the imminent reality of war felt all too terrifyingly possible. Germany had invaded Poland, without any warning or declaration, two days ago, less than a week after Great Britain had made a pact to defend that country, should it be invaded. Yesterday, Great Britain had presented a formal ultimatum to Germany, and at the same time, the National Conscription Act had been passed, to conscript for military servicemen between the ages of nineteen and forty-one. Now, it was past eleven o’clock in the morning, and Chamberlain was set to speak at any moment.
Did anyone think Germany actually would have withdrawn? Rosa wondered. She had heard on the wireless that martial law had already been declared in France as the country mobilized for war, and her heart ached for Hannah, as well as Rachel. Were her friends worried they might be next? Only Sophie seemed safe. The United States was clinging to its neutrality, with Roosevelt’s only statement after Germany had invaded Poland that the Germans must desist in bombing civilians.
“Oh, those church bells,” Rosa’s mother exclaimed, for in addition to the sound of the Bow Bells on the wireless, the bells of St Peter’s Church in Belsize Square had been ringing withmournful insistence for the last few minutes. She rose from her seat in one abrupt movement, agitatedly patting her neatly coiffed hair as she paced the room.
“They’ll stop in a few moments, Elsa,” Rosa’s father told her quietly. “Come sit by me.” He’d been gentler with her mother since the whole altercation with the emerald. But it hadn’t stopped Elsa from refusing to speak to her daughter for two entire weeks. Some things, Rosa, had thought, never changed.
Another thing that hadn’t changed was her father, at least not as much as she’d wanted him to. Despite what he’d told her that day by the pawn shop, he had yet to accompany her to any English lessons, so while Rosa’s English was coming on in leaps and bounds, her father’s remained worryingly limited. The prospect of taking the medical exams seemed as far away as ever.
The wireless suddenly crackled to life, and the sound of Bow Bells was replaced by the buzz of static, and then the voice of a BBC announcer. “This is London. You will now hear a statement by the Prime Minister.”
Rosa’s mother hurried to retake her seat, while Rosa and her father leaned forward, straining to listen. Zlata Rosenbaum looked fearfully at her husband, and he reached out to hold her hand.
“Shalom,” he said softly. Peace. It seemed a strange thing to wish for when they were right on the cusp of war, yet perhaps the Rosenbaums’ peace, Rosa thought, had a greater source. In any case, it seemed to calm Zlata; she nodded, swallowing back her tears, as she clung to his hand.
After several, interminable seconds, the grave, reedy voice of Neville Chamberlain came on the wireless.
“I am speaking to you from the Cabinet Room of 10 Downing Street. This morning the British ambassador in Berlin handed the German government a final note stating that unless we heard from them by eleven o’clock that they were prepared at once towithdraw their troops from Poland, a state of war would exist between us. I have to tell you now that no such undertaking has been received, and that consequently, this country is at war with Germany.”
Several seconds of silence followed that somber statement, and the Herzelfelds and Rosenbaums exchanged wordless looks; there was a dazed look in everyone’s eyes, an uncertain sort of blankness. Were they expecting bombs to come raining down the moment war had been declared? Rosa wondered. She glanced out the window; despite thunderstorms the day before, the morning was warm and bright. It did not feel like a day for war.
Chamberlain continued: “You can imagine what a bitter blow it is to me that all my long struggle to win peace has failed. Yet I cannot believe there is anything more, or anything different, that I could have done and that would have been more successful.”
Rosa turned back to the window as the Prime Minister’s mournful words droned on, expressing his regret.War… it had finally, truly come to war. There would be soldiers marching off, and fighting, and dying. There would be fighter planes overhead, and bombs being dropped, explosions and fire. There would be the high, piercing drone of the air-raid siren, which they’d already heard, several times, in practice. There would be fear and uncertainty, and suffering and pain.
Rosa closed her eyes as the Prime Minister finished his speech: “May God bless you all and may He defend the right, for it is evil things we will be fighting against—brute force, bad faith, injustice, oppression, and persecution, and against them I am certain the right will prevail.”
Another few seconds passed, and no one spoke. Rosa wondered what on earth there could be to say. Then, the BBC Home Service’s announcer came back on, his elegant voice so jarringly unruffled. “That is the end of the PrimeMinister’s announcement. Please stand by for important government announcements, which, as the Prime Minister has said, will follow almost immediately. That is the end of the announcement.”
The wireless went to faint static before the sound of the Bow Bells came back on.
Rosa’s mother turned to her father in alarm. “What announcements?” she asked in German. “Fritz, what do they mean?”
“How we must prepare for war, I imagine,” her father replied steadily.
Once again, Rosa found herself glancing out the window, but there was nothing but blue sky.
“Oh, thosebells!” her mother cried, as the sound of the bells continued on the wireless, tinnily ringing out.
“They will tell us soon,” Moritz Rosenbaum stated with calm dignity. “We must wait.”
Sure enough, after a full minute of ringing bells, another BBC Home Service announcer came on, his voice as smooth as ever.
“This is London. The government has given instructions for the following important announcements. Closing of places of entertainment. All cinemas, theaters, and other places of entertainment are to be closed immediately, until further notice. In the light of experience, it may be possible to allow the reopening of such places in some areas. They are being closed, because if they were hit by a bomb, large numbers would be killed or injured.”
Zlata gave a little gasp at this, and Rosa’s mother shook her head. Rosa could hardly take it in herself.
The announcer continued, “Sports gatherings, and all gatherings for the purposes of entertainment and amusement, whether outdoor or indoor, which involve large numberscongregating together, are prohibited until further notice. This refers especially to gatherings for purposes of entertainment.”
So, there would be no fun anymore, Rosa thought sadly. She didn’t mind too much, as she’d only been to the cinema once since she’d arrived, and she hadn’t been to any other large gathering, but it still felt sobering, to think of how much would be banned… and why.
“But people are earnestly requested,” the announcer continued, “not to crowd together, in any circumstance. Churches and other places of public worship will not be closed.”
Moritz breathed a shaky sigh of relief as he clutched Zlata’s hand. Rosa knew they went to the synagogue in Belsize Park every Saturday; her family had yet to darken its doors.
