The next night, when Paulo had taken Christophe to bed and had said he would lie down himself for a while, Ella sat in the quiet of the still house, clutching Nanny’s diary. Nanny’s solicitor had handed it to her after she’d taken the death certificate to him. He’d known how important it was to her, and told her he would see to any other of Nanny’s requests in the next few days. Oh, Nanny, I cannot believe that you have gone.
Ella couldn’t ever remember seeing the diary before: an old and tattered notebook with a piece of ribbon keeping its green, leather cover around its aged, brown, dog-eared pages. Where it had been when she was a child, Ella didn’t know. Or perhaps it was something she had never noticed.
Sighing deeply, she wondered if the diary contained any answers to what Nanny had unwittingly told her, in her confused moments when she thought she was talking to Mona. But then none of that gave the whole picture.
Opening the notebook, Ella saw something she had longed to know. On the first page, she read:
This diary is my account of what happened to me while in the employ of Pan Wronski of Pedzichow 20, Krakow.
At last, an address. But what to do with it? Dare I write to it? No, something told Ella that wouldn’t help. After all, her father knew exactly where she was, or at least he believed her to be in his apartment in London, so if he had wanted to write to her, he could have done. He never did.
I must visit. But how? Paulo isn’t strong enough to go with me. If only I had someone to help me . . . Flors! Yes, Flors would help, Ella felt sure of that. She would go tomorrow to the address she had for Flors. It would be so lovely to see her, even if she could not do anything to help; just to be hugged by her, and to catch up on old times and introduce her to Paulo, and Christophe . . . Oh, it will be amazing. I can’t wait!
Turning another leaf, Ella found that the diary began in November 1899. Her eyes scanned words that only increased her sorrow:
I bought this book today to help relieve me of my pain. By writing down what has happened in the house of Pan Wronski – and to me at his hands – I hope I will find some release.
I am on a train with my beloved charge, Marjella, daughter of Pan Wronski and Kasienka, his beautiful late-wife.
Ella read on for a while and learned nothing new, only a more detailed account of the rape of her dear nanny. It agonized her to read the shocking revelation that her father and his friend had taunted Nanny about being a woman of forty-one and still a virgin:
I had just turned forty-one and was of single state, as my fiancé had been killed in an accident. As I never wanted to look at another man, my mother found a position with a family of three children. When they had all grown, I moved to the Wronski household, in preparation for their expected child . . .
What followed was an account of how Ella’s mother had died from a haemorrhage. Ella’s face flooded with tears.
When she closed the book, she was wiser only about the address of her father; everything else was simply a confirmation of what she already knew. Ella still felt confused as to why Nanny had been distressed about her own mother, when she implied that her mother sent her away; it seemed that her parents and her sister, Mona, were already deceased by the time all of this happened. Poor Nanny, how difficult it must have been for you, with all your memories fused and distorted in your mind.
With this thought, peace came to Ella. Nanny deserved her eternal rest. It was selfish to want her back.
At the back of the diary there was a business card for Banks and Partridge, Solicitors. Ella made up her mind that she would visit them once more. Maybe they had further information they could give her about the money her mother had left her, now that Nanny had passed on.
A few days later, leaving Paulo and Christophe in the car, Ella walked across the road to the address that she now had for Flora. When she found that Flora no longer lived in Stepney, a neighbour told Ella where she had moved to and that a woman called Rowena had moved with her.
Ella felt ridiculously light-hearted, considering her worries, which had been compounded this morning, where Christophe was concerned. Try as she might, she hadn’t been able to get her child to eat the light oats she’d prepared for him, nor would he suckle at her breast. But then she had to let in the truth – it wasn’t so much that he wouldn’t, but he didn’t seem able to.
Shaking this silly notion from her head, Ella walked faster, convincing herself that Christophe maybe had the beginnings of a summer cold and was just off his food.
Anticipation zinged through her as she rapped the shiny brass knocker.
Maybe she’d rapped it too hard, as she heard what sounded like an African woman’s accent. ‘Lordie, is there a need to knock me door down? I’m coming as fast as me legs will carry me.’
When the door opened, a profusion of colour stood before Ella. The woman who answered it had her huge body wrapped in a daffodil-yellow robe with white daisies printed all over it, and a red silk cummerbund around her waist. Her head was swaddled in the same silk, in a turban that made her appear six feet tall.
‘I’m sorry to disturb you, but I believe that my friend, Flora, lives here.’
‘Yous a friend of Flora’s? What’s your name then, girl?’
‘I’m Ella. Flora and I were Voluntary Aid workers together.’
‘Lordie! Come on in, girl. I’m Rowena. And this here is Flora’s house, but she’s not living here – I am. But I do have something for you. A letter. I have instructions that if ever you called, I was to give it to you, along with Flora’s new address.’
‘Oh? Does she live near here?’
‘No, Missy, she lives in France, with her husband and Freddy, her baby. They’ve been gone a few months.’
‘France? Oh, I . . . I needed her help. I – I mean, well, I . . .’
‘Now don’t you be all embarrassed, I know the way of it. We lose touch with those we love, and keep meaning to contact them, then one day we are forced to. Now, tell me what it is you need help with.’
Ella explained how she needed to go to Poland, but couldn’t leave her husband and child. ‘And – and, on top of that, my nanny died.’
Blurting this out brought the tears that Ella had fought against all morning.
‘There, there, honey child. There’s a lot for you to cry about, but at the moment it sounds like you need to be strong. I’ll help you, girl. Yous a friend of Flora’s, so that makes you mine, too. Is that your car across the road?’ At Ella’s nod, Rowena told her to bring her family inside. ‘They can stay with me while you visit this solicitor and make the other arrangements for your departed nanny.’
‘Oh no, I couldn’t impose on you.’
‘It will be a pleasure. I’ve been a lonely woman since me friend Pru died and Flora left.’
‘Pru was Flors’s aunt, wasn’t she? And what of Flors’s child – a little girl? You only mentioned a baby.’
Listening to the troubles that had beset Flors after she returned from nursing in Dieppe, leaving Ella behind in the field hospital, Ella felt a veil of deep sadness envelop her.
‘Now, don’t you be feeling sorry for Flora; she’s a strong girl and has found happiness. Her letters tell of how settled they all are, and how they are learning to live with their sorrow – and their past. They are having an exciting time building up a vineyard, and will be producing their first bottles of wine very soon.’
‘That’s good to know. No doubt Flora’s letter to me will give me more details. And yes, if I can, I would like to accept your offer of help. I – I can pay you a little.’
‘No, I won’t take no payment for kindness – you’re a friend of my dear Flora.’
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend.’
‘No offence taken. Now bring your family in and introduce me.’
Entering the house again, Ella took in her surroundings. The furniture was conventional and of the sort that she imagined Flors would choose: not expensive, more functional and in muted colours. Every chair had been brought alive with colour, though, the unmistakable touch of Rowena. There was no dominating hue, but a rainbow of cushions and beautiful fabrics draped over the backs and arms of the furniture and covering the table. It created an atmosphere of happiness, if it was possible for a room to give off such an air.
Rowena greeted Paulo in such a manner that Ella feared he would fall over, but the strong hug held him upright. ‘A brave soldier, you are, and I thank you. We all should go on our knees to thank you. And to these girls. Now, sit yourself down and make yourself comfortable . . . Ah, a beautiful babby.’
When Rowena took Christophe, her face clouded. She looked over in a questioning way towards Ella. Ella shook her head and hoped this would stop Rowena voicing what she knew the woman had detected, and what Ella feared – that there was something wrong with her son.
As Rowena cradled him to her, Christophe’s free arm hung down and his head rolled back. At that moment Ella let in what she had feared: that Christophe had floppy baby syndrome, something for which there was no known cure, but which a child could grow out of. So little was known about the condition; some children gradually grew stronger, while others . . . Oh God, I cannot bear to think that – please don’t let that happen.
Rowena didn’t remark on Christophe’s health, but instead proceeded to help Paulo to relax. ‘Now then, young man, I would love you and Christophe to stay with me while Ella attends to her business. I make a delicious tea, and me rum buns are second to none, made with me own home-made rum. I would give you a tipple, if it wasn’t so early in the day. But I will pack you some to take with you. If that doesn’t make your pain go away, then nothing will. You are very welcome here.’ Her laughter filled the room and it was impossible not to join in with her.
The office of Banks and Partridge, Solicitors was in a Victorian building on King’s Cross Road, the road where she and Nanny had done most of their banking and shopping, being within walking distance from their home, and it was still close to Ella’s new home. The building gave off an air of having been there for centuries, with its dark-green paint and unkempt exterior. There were many places where the cladding had come away from the outside walls and had not been repaired.
Inside, it was stuffy and furnished with big, old, polished furniture. The chairs in the waiting room were of brown leather and had seen better days. Always, when visiting here, Ella felt intimidated, and that was so today.
John Partridge looked over his glasses. His long face, with its drooping jowls, had an almost sinister aura and sent a shiver through Ella.
‘As solicitors to Miss Machalski, it is our duty to discharge her wishes, upon her death. Unfortunately, the amount of money she wanted to leave to you, Miss Wronski, has greatly diminished with the need to pay the expensive fees for her care – something she always thought you would undertake.’
‘I – I couldn’t. I – I . . .’ Taking a deep breath, Ella composed herself. ‘It may have escaped your notice, tucked up here in your plush office, Mr Partridge, but there was a war on. My dear nanny was perfectly well, when I left to do my duty in France. And although I tried to care for her when I returned, I was struck down with influenza. I then had the care of my husband, who, before the war that I am reminding you of, was a fit and healthy young man, but unfortunately – whilst fighting for the freedom of the likes of you – was badly injured and now needs full-time care.’ Feeling her lips begin to quiver, Ella swallowed hard and stared at the astonished solicitor.
‘I’m sorry. Forgive me. I didn’t realize. I only saw this dear client of ours being cared for in a home, when she wanted to be taken care of by you. Shall we press on?’
‘Yes, I think we should.’
‘As I say, Miss Machalski’s assets have diminished, but she was a frugal woman and saved most of her allowance. She leaves you all that she owns, plus any money left in her account. I believe this will be in the region of four hundred pounds. The exact amount will be calculated when her estate is finalized and all outstanding payments have been made.’
The relief that surged through Ella was short-lived.
‘I’m afraid there is other news that isn’t so good, where your finances are concerned. We act on behalf of a solicitor in Poland. His clients, who are directly concerned with our transactions, are your family. There has been a sudden change of circumstances. Sadly, my news coincides with the demise of Miss Machalski, though it isn’t in any way related to her passing.’
Ella tensed. Her heart began to beat rapidly, sending fear coursing through her.
‘I am charged with telling you that you will receive no further allowance, and that the apartment you live in is not available to you after the end of the month. I’m very sorry.’
‘What? No! Why?’
‘We can give you no information, as we do not know anything about your family. We have only been charged with administering to Miss Machalski’s needs, and to yours after her death. I know nothing of your family, except that they are clients of the solicitor in Poland, on whose behalf we act. We are paid a fee, which will now cease, for administering your own and Miss Machalski’s affairs. We have paid all dues on the apartment, as per our instructions, and have asked no questions. I can tell you nothing, as I don’t know anything. I’m very sorry.’ Seeing the devastation on Ella’s face prompted him to ask, ‘Would you like a drink of water?’
‘Yes. Yes, please. This has been a complete shock. I don’t live in the apartment, so that part of your news doesn’t affect me, but I do rely on my allowance.’
As she sipped the cold water, Ella began to feel in charge of her senses once more. And they overwhelmed her with despair. ‘So you are saying that you know nothing about my family, and yet Nanny always said you would give me the information I seek about them.’
‘I think she referred to a diary that she left with us, which you collected. Didn’t that give you what you want to know?’
‘Yes, I have learned quite a bit, but I was hoping there would be more.’
‘I’m sorry. You are in an unenviable position. What the reason for this is, I cannot imagine. It all seems very cruel.’
The impression Ella had formed of this man being a sour-faced individual with no feeling changed, at this. ‘Thank you. I think I will have to go to Poland to find out more. The money Nanny has left me will pay for that. You see, Nanny has written that I was left a fortune by my mother, who died at my birth. And that my father married again. Is there any way his new wife and family – if they had one – can take my inheritance from me?’
‘I see. Well, that is a difficult question. Polish law will be different from ours. Here, I would say, it is possible. There are old laws which state that all a woman owns becomes the property of her husband, on her marriage. And so a claim – even if it was in a will – could be voided by that husband, if the legacy was made by his wife. I imagine there is something similar in Poland. But I must caution you. The news from Poland, as you must know, is of a great deal of unrest.’
‘Oh? No, I haven’t kept abreast of current affairs abroad. What is happening there?’ Ella felt an intense desire to know. Poland was her birthplace and that of her parents, and being brought up in England didn’t detract from the feelings she had for the country.
‘Well, having gained its status as an independent state in 1918, Poland is now under threat from the Soviet Union, which seeks to spread communism to the West. It would be a dangerous venture to go there. Let me try to resolve your dilemma through communication with the solicitor that I am in touch with.’
Not agreeing to this, as she felt it would alert her family, Ella left feeling determined that she would travel to Poland. The fact that there was a prospect of war there didn’t deter her. Her only concern was how she was going to be able to leave Paulo and Christophe behind.
Though distressed by all she had heard, Ella found much to cheer her when she arrived back at Rowena’s home, as the sound of laughter met her.
‘Oh, mon amour, Rowena is a tonic. And the best news is that she has agreed to be a nanny to our little Christophe and to help me, whenever I need it. This means that you will be free to carry out anything that doesn’t require me and, most importantly, to be able to rest more.’
‘That’s wonderful. Thank you so much, Rowena.’
This news helped to settle Ella’s heart, as now she would carry out her wish to go to Poland, no matter what was happening there. And she could do so knowing that Paulo and Christophe would be cared for. For although she hadn’t yet had time to read Flora’s letter, she knew this woman must mean a lot to Flors, for her to entrust her house to Rowena.
Well, I already like Rowena very much and, as a friend of Flora’s, she is a friend of mine. And God knows I am in need of a friend.