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“Please do not be offended,” I began hesitantly, “when I say we must leave soon.”
My hosts exchanged glances but said nothing.
“Your hospitality has been unsurpassable,” I continued, “and, I assure you, I could happily spend the remainder of the war here as your guests for I, and I know this to be true of the children too, have come to regard you as family.”
I crossed and took the hands of Izabella and Wojciech, struggling to find words difficult enough in my own language, and almost impossible to express in what little Polish I had learned.
“Izabella, you have been as a mother to me these past months. And you, Wojciech, like a father. To all three of us. But our real mother, mine and Nicolae’s, and the parents of Elone, may still yet be alive. As I have explained previously, they were bound for a resettlement camp somewhere beyond Krakow. That much I know. Please understand we cannot rest until we have ascertained their fate, for better or worse.”
Izabella took my hand with both hers, offering reassurance. “We understand, Anca. Of course you must seek your family, though in all honesty we must warn you to expect the worse, for only then can you avoid bitter disappointment.”
Tears welled in her eyes as she spoke. “We will be sorry to see you leave, for your presence here has brought us much joy, Anca. But we will not stand in your way.”
I was relieved to hear this, for I anticipated they would object.
“We have not mentioned this before, Anca, but now perhaps the time is right. We had a son, once, Wojciech and I. Krzystof, his name.” She struggled to express her thoughts and I listened patiently.
“He was killed in battle in the early months of occupation, some years ago now, even as his wife Mila lay enceinte with what would have been our grandchild.” My host struggled with the words. “She too was a Jew, Anca, like your friend Elone. She... That is...”
Izabella was overcome with emotion and I sat at her side without hesitation, to offer comfort and succour. As I warmly hugged her, Wojciech took up her story.
“After Krzystof death, Anca, his wife Mila, then living in Krakow, was moved into a ghetto, a Jewish ghetto, in the city. All the Jews were moved there, you understand, regardless of nationality or social standing. By their religion they were branded, judged and sentenced.” He paused, and I realised he was struggling to control his own emotions.
One arm still around Izabella, I reached a hand to his, urging him to continue. “What happened to her, Wojciech?”
“We do not know even if she is still alive, Anca. We heard that the ghetto had been liquidated, and that those who survived had been sent on to labour camps, just like your mother and Elone’s parents. Mila was sent to a place called Treblinka, in the north-east of our country. We know at least that she arrived there, for we received a message confirming her admission. That was more than a year ago, since when we have heard nothing. No news of her, or our grandchild.”
“But Wojciech,” I said, “if she arrived at the labour camp then surely she must be safe and well? Surely you anticipate meeting her again once the war is over?”
At this suggestion Izabella clutched me to her and began to cry again. Wojciech turned from my mystified gaze, unwilling to meet my eyes, and I knew there was more.
I demanded, “Wojciech? What is it? Is there something you are not telling me?”
It seemed an eternity before he answered. “Anca, you are so young. There are some things perhaps best left unsaid, unsuited to a child’s ears.”
“I am twelve years old, Wojciech. Almost a teenager. Please, do not treat me as you would Nicolae or Elone.”
Wojciech considered my request. “It is just rumour, Anca, not fact. In any war, my child, truth is the first casualty. I cannot tell you things I do not know to be true.”
“Please, if there is something I ought to know, if it might have a bearing on my mother’s fate, then you must tell me.”
Wojciech shook his head. “I will not fill your head with gossip, child.” He paused, deep in thought, then, “Anca, we understand that you must go. We will not stand in your way, for you are of independent mind and we know our protests would be futile. But please, leave the two children with us. Let us care for them for you while you go in search of your mother.”
I was shaking my head before even he had completed the sentence, not willing even to consider the option.
“No, Wojciech, I cannot do that. Your offer is greatly appreciated, but Nicolae is my brother and we will not be parted. I promised Mama, and Papa before that, I would care for him and so I must, no matter what. And Elone...”
I implored with them with my eyes not to contest what I was about to say.
“Elone is as a sister to me now, though I have known her only a few months. It is incumbent on me to care for her as my own. Please, Wojciech, please, Izabella, try to understand I cannot relinquish my duty to them. Please do not try to stop us leaving, all three of us.”
Izabella, her voice wrought with emotion, said, “That we will not do, Anca. We understand your plight, for as Wojciech explained, we were faced with a similar dilemma. If our years were fewer and our bodies more able then no doubt we would have gone to Krakow to try bring Mila back with us. But we were ignorant then. How could we possibly know the tragic way events would unfold?”
I nodded my understanding.
“Now we do our bit, as you have witnessed, Anca. It is as much as we can do. I am sure you realise we risk our very lives to receive partisans and wounded soldiers here. That is our own small contribution to this fight against tyranny.”
She squeezed my hand reassuringly. “Yours will take a different form, Anca, for I know you are as dedicated to that cause as we are. But that in the first instance the search for your respective families must be paramount.”
She paused, selecting her next words carefully. “No, Anca, we will not try to stop you leaving, not you or the children, if that is your will. You are brave beyond your years, my child. Of course you must take Nicolae with you, and if you are to look after your brother properly then you will need the able assistance of Elone, for she is a blessed child, as you must realise. You are better off with her than without, of that I am convinced.”
She turned to Wojciech and whispered in quiet and rapid Polish such that I could not understand, before turning back to me.
“Anca, if you must leave, then please let us assist your journey in this way. Wojciech has a brother, Henryk, resident still in Krakow. He is a good man, Anca, and may be able to assist you, if only to point you in the right direction as you go about your mission. If you go to him he will help you, of that I am confident.”
I nodded my appreciation. “Thank you. Both of you. Krakow is indeed our destination, for I know the train at Bucharest was bound that far. Is it distant, this town, Krakow?”
Wojciech said quietly, “A long way, Anca, but we will see you get there safely. Henryk will make you welcome for a few days while you establish the true nature of your task. Then... Then, Anca, hopefully you will realise the futility of your endeavour and return to us here in the forest until the war is over, after which perhaps we will all be reunited with our surviving families.”