Page 51 of The Girl with a Secret
Her father just shook his head.
He grew tired soon after that, and so Rosa and her mother came away, her mother trying not to weep in her distress, the dour-faced constable trotting behind them. The happy, productive woman who had thrived at Rushen, Rosa thought sadly, had reverted to the wife she’d once been—emotional, desperate, obsessed with her husband. Rosa hoped it would only be temporary, and her mother would find her strength and spirit again.
“Oh Rosa, I can’t bear to see him like that!” her mother cried once they were back at the boarding house. “It’s as if the most vital part of him has drained away. He was always such a handsome, charismatic man. No one could take their eyes off him, and especially not the women. Well…” She sighed. “You know that already.”
“He’s injured and suffering,” Rosa reminded her gently. “He’ll get that vitality back in time, I’m sure.” Althoughhopefully not with the other women. Again, she wondered what her father had meant, that this changed everything.
“He has no need to feel guilty,” her mother stated abruptly, with a challenging look. “You shouldn’t make him feel guilty, Rosa.”
“I…” Shehadmade him feel guilty, Rosa knew. She couldn’t deny it. “He shouldn’t have made a deal with the devil,Mutti,” she said after a moment. “It’s affected us all, terribly. You know that.”
“Making a deal with the devil doesn’t make you the devil himself,” her mother returned hotly. “And what do you think would have happened, if he hadn’t? Where do you think we’d be now?”
“Back in London, at the very least,” Rosa replied evenly. “Able to hold our heads up high.”
“Or your father in a camp, us all in camp, or evendead!” her mother shot back. “Do you think your father didn’t know what was at stake? It’s easy to have principles when nothing is actually at risk.”
Rosa opened her mouth to fire back a similar retort, and then closed it. How could she possibly argue against her father, when she knew she was no better? Her shoulders sagged as she shook her head. “You’re right,Mutti,” she whispered. “It is easier. And I’m no better than Father.”
“Oh, Rosa.” Her mother’s face softened, suffusing with sympathy. “Are you talking of Ernst? You were a child. A child in love. How could your head not have been turned, when you were approached by a man so handsome and charming?”
“But he wasn’t,” Rosa whispered. “Not truly.”
“Does that even matter?” her mother returned, with a small, wry smile. “He was to you.”
It occurred to Rosa then that for all she’d disdained her mother for her desperate obsession with her husband, sheherself had not been much better, falling for a man like Ernst, ignoring so many things about him because she’d felt so happy, so desired. Was there no end to her self-deceit, she wondered, as well as her hypocrisy? The realization filled her with shame and exasperation. She’d been trying to distance herself from her parents for years, only to learn just how like both of them she was.
“Yes,” she agreed after a moment, “He was, to me. But… he was a Nazi.”
Her mother raised her eyebrows. “And? They don’t have horned tails and forked tongues, you know.” Her lips twitched. “Well, not all of them, anyway.”
Rosa shook her head, denial a matter of instinct. Thinking such a thing was akin to the Nazis telling children Jews had horns on their head, hidden under their hair. And yet… “It was wrong,” she stated. “To have those parties. To enjoy them. To… to fall inlovewith Ernst.”
“Did you enjoy them?” her mother asked practically. “The attention, yes, but the events themselves? Those men in our house, stomping around in their boots, being free with our things? You always seemed to me as if you dreaded them.” She paused. “Idreaded them, but I was more cowardly than you. I claimed headaches instead of facing up to your father.”
“That’s why you didn’t always act as hostess?” Rosa exclaimed in surprise, and her mother shrugged.
“And I didn’t like being made of a fool of, watching your father flirt with whatever floozies those men brought in.” A sigh escaped her, long and low and weary. “But I loved him, and love him still.” She straightened, giving her daughter a direct look. “In any case, what’s the point of raking all this up now, Rosa? It’s in the past. Your father did what he did, and at the time he felt it was right. We made our own choices, for better or for worse. But we must think to the future now, and whatever it might hold forus here. There is nothing gained in constantly looking back with regret.”
With a jolt, Rosa realized how right her mother was. When she’d boarded theSt Louis, she’d thought she’d been facing the future. She’d told Sophie as much; she’d told everyone. She’d even convinced herself. Yet, all this time, she’d been looking back, with guilt and shame. It had trapped her more than any fences of barbed wire ever could.
“You’re right,Mutti,” she said, and leaned over to kiss her mother’s cheek. “We must look to the future.”
The next day, Rosa volunteered to help teach in the kindergarten that was being organized, now that some of the internees’ children were joining them, at long last, at Rushen, after having been separated for so long.
They set up a small school in Collinson’s Café, which had been used for social activities and crafting. Rosa was tasked with teaching the younger ones English, and she found, somewhat to her surprise, just how much she enjoyed taking them through their letters, words, and simple phrases.
It reminded her of the whimsical conversational classes at the Jewish Day Center, with Peter.Would you like one lump or two? She could picture him smiling as he mimed pouring the teapot, and it caused an ache deep within her. She missed him more than she wanted to, because whenever she thought of him, it made her realize how futile any hope of a future for them was. She didn’t even know if he thought of her romantically, but if he ever learned about Ernst, she feared he would reject her completely.
In any case, she hadn’t had any reply to the light letter she’d sent him, although she’d heard from Sophie, as well as Hannah and Rachel. Sophie was still working at the Jewish Center inWashington, and living at a boarding house. She’d also written about how she’d gone on a date with a young American navy man, Sam, confessing she was quite besotted with him. Rosa thrilled to think of her friend experiencing a bit of romance in her life. She recalled back on theSt Louishow Sophie had bashfully admitted she’d never been kissed. Well, perhaps she had been now.
Rosa had also had letters from Hannah and Rachel, written before the fall of France, and taking ages to get to Rushen.
Rachel had written that she and Franz were in Haarlem, managing—just—to keep body and soul together.There is a woman here who is so kind and helpful. She has given us food, and more besides. I am so thankful for people who think of us.It almost seemed, Rosa reflected, as if there was more Rachel wanted to say but couldn’t. She supposed they all had their secrets, especially in these dark and troubling times.
I don’t want to be afraid, Hannah had written,but I might as well tell you that I am. I want to do something, fight this evil, but I don’t know how. Where even to begin? It’s all around me, and yet it feels impossible. I envy you, Rosa, for at least you are living in a country that is fighting! You can do your part, whatever that turns out to be.
Yes, she was in a country that was at war, Rosa thought, but she was still behind barbed wire. How could she do her part? And yet, she realized that, like Hannah, she wanted to. That, too, Rosa thought, was all part of looking toward the future.
