29th October 1938
Before Rubin had even closed their front door, Sara appeared in the hallway, her tired eyes expectant, hands wringing the dishcloth. ‘Did you see her? Fraulein Young? Did you ask?’
‘Yes, my love.’ He was relieved to be able to give his wife something positive to hang on to at last, though whether it would bear any fruit …
He’d gone to the Chronicle office early that morning, his courage fuelled by desperation, pride relegated to somewhere deep in his boots as he faced Georgie.
‘I need to talk to you, if I may,’ he’d said quickly, and she reacted instantly to his already lined face, racked with fresh anxiety.
‘Of course,’ she’d said, ushering him to sit down.
He clutched at the hot tea she placed in front of him. Even before he’d uttered a word, he was oozing regret. ‘I’m so sorry to come to you, Fraulein Young,’ he began, head bowed.
‘Georgie, please.’
‘Sara wanted me to come and you’re the only person we can think of. If there was anyone else, I wouldn’t be troubling you.’
‘Rubin, you don’t need to apologise. Just tell me.’
So he had. About Elias, the debacle of the previous evening, and the others who – like Elias – had been labelled ‘undesirables’, unable to give back to the Reich. Taken away, forcibly, to Lord knows where. He couldn’t stop the worry bleeding from him – the supposedly solid, dependable Rubin – almost in tears, thick fingernails scoring into his teacup.
‘There was another raid in the neighbourhood last night,’ he told Georgie. ‘It was just lucky I was in, and between Leon and I we did actually manage to get Elias up into the attic this time, seconds before they came knocking. I thought my heart would give out, though.’
Filthy black boots had invaded Rubin’s home, his family’s refuge, forcing him to fend off gruff questions about the household while praying Elias was able to keep still and silent on the bare boards above their heads, explaining away his own breathlessness as a heart problem, when it was simply pure fear.
‘I think we said enough to put them off the scent, but not forever,’ Rubin went on. ‘So far we’ve been lucky, but I feel it’s bound to run out. And soon. I hate to put you in this position, but …’
‘Of course, I’ll help in any way I can,’ Georgie cut in. ‘Do you need money?’
He shook his head. ‘Thank you, but no – we have some saved. What we need is help, influence,’ he said. His eyes were those of a man desperate not to plead – and yet he would. Pride had no place anymore. ‘If there’s any way you can ask someone for a visa for Elias, and the children perhaps?’
Sara took in a large breath, the scaffold of her collarbone ever more obvious across her thinning chest. ‘So can Georgie help us?’
‘She’ll try,’ Rubin sighed. ‘I know she’ll do her best, but like everyone else, she can’t promise anything. She has a contact to call, but we will have to keep trying other avenues. Our friends in the …’ his voice naturally lowered ‘… well, you know. People we know.’
Sara pushed her head back, closed her eyes with a sliver of relief. It might, for a time, quieten Elias’s distress, his increased agitation at being the fox to the Nazi hunt. In the meantime, they had no other choice but to carry on hoping.