Read Beneath the Dover Sky Online

Authors: Murray Pura

Beneath the Dover Sky (43 page)

“Bear up as best you can. Everyone else treats Jane like gold. The baron is everything Mum is not when it comes to your daughter. He’s with Jane constantly. Mum is in and out of our lives like the wind from the Channel.”

“Jane feels the rejection keenly.”

“I know she does, and I’m sorry. But Mum’s only a small part of our family tree. Just a branch, really.”

Libby continued to bite at her thumbnail. “Just a grandmother.”

“Perhaps we should have Mr. and Mrs. Woodhaven over here. Extend an invitation.”

Libby shrugged. “They’re wonderful people, but they can’t hop over to Germany on a ship in half a day like Mum can. They’d visit once, have their long ocean voyage, and disappear again for a few years. Jane is thirteen this June, Catherine. She needs a grandmother now. A real one.”

Catherine rubbed her sister’s back. “Perhaps the baron can have a talk with Mum.”

“He wrote her once about Jane. She claimed she treated all her grandchildren the same and adored Jane. She told him I had the problem, not her.”

“I see. Well, I’ll pray with you, if that helps.”

“Certainly, it helps. For a few minutes. Then it’s back to the real world.”

“Lib—”

“Honestly, Catherine, I have prayed up and down and all around. Mum’s still the same year after year. She considers Eva von Isenburg more family than her own granddaughter. She bent over backwards on the marriages of her children and even felt she bent too far. Now she refuses to bend an inch regarding a granddaughter just because she has Oriental blood in her veins. And that is that. Not even God can budge her. I’ve done everything but wear a hair shirt and lie on a bed
of nails to get His help. If you want to pray with me, go ahead, but it’s not going to change anything. I’m stuck with Lady High-and-Mighty Preston as a grandmother for my child.”

Libby suddenly turned to face her sister, tears coursing down her cheeks, her blue eyes shot through with fire. “And if I want to marry Commander Terrence Fordyce, I’m going to marry him. If you don’t like it you can lump it. I’m tired of going through all this turmoil alone.”

Lady Preston stepped out of the hat boutique and linked an arm through Eva’s. “The yellow hat with the small blue flowers was absolutely perfect for you. It brings out the colors in your eyes and your hair.”

“Thank you, Grandmother Elizabeth. It is, yes, a lovely hat but so expensive. You are spending too much on me.”

“Nonsense. It’s Easter. We celebrate Jesus Christ’s resurrection.” She glanced at Jane, who was walking by her side but a few steps back as they headed down the crowded sidewalk. “Don’t you agree, Jane?”

“Certainly, Grandmother.”

“You mustn’t fret. We’ve found the right dresses for Eva and the perfect hat, and we will soon do the same for you.”

“It’s all right. I just like being with you and Eva.”

“Trust me, Jane. The right dress is in a window somewhere. If not today then tomorrow.”

“Oh!” Eva tugged Lady Preston towards the shops. “Now we are seeing these young men in Tubingen. Give them plenty of room, Grandmother, please. They are always spoiling for a fight.”

“Who do you mean, dear?”

“The men with the brown shirts and armbands. Don’t stare at them. Just look in the shop windows.” Eva looked at Jane. “Get out of their path, Jane. Come and look at this toy train running through the Alps. Hurry!”

But the six young men were already upon them, taking up half the
sidewalk as they strode through the crowds. People stepped into the street to avoid them. One brownshirt spotted Jane as she moved away.

“Look at this!” he called to his friends. “Can you believe it? One of these creatures is on our sidewalk!”

The other five men glared at Jane.

“A China dog is not fit to stand where we stand!”

“What are you doing desecrating German soil, China dog?”

“Get out of our country! Germany is for Germans only!”


Ja, ja
, Germany is for purebloods only! No filth bloods, no mongrel bloods!”

One of the men grabbed Jane by the arm and swung her into a lamppost. There was a loud crack as Jane hit her head. She cried out, and the same young man punched her in the stomach. “Shut up, China dog!”

Another brownshirt seized Jane’s long, dark hair and pulled until in her pain she struck out at him. She screamed, and he laughed and jerked so hard blood sprang out along her hairline.

“What are you doing! What are you doing!” Lady Preston ran towards Jane and the six men, pushing them aside and slapping at their arms. “Let her go! Do you hear me? Let her go!”

They laughed and shoved Lady Preston back against the building.

One of them sneered at Eva. “Hey, little beauty, tell your mother to stay out of this or we’ll use her skull for an ashtray.”

Eva’s eyes were dark-blue slits. “You really are pigs.”

His face darkened. “Be careful or we will smack you into a wall and ruin your pretty face.”

Lady Preston struck out at them with her hands and shopping bags. “Get away from Jane! Leave her alone!”

The one with his fingers twisted in Jane’s hair gave her another sharp yank and Jane fell to her knees.

“Please stop! Please stop,” Jane cried through her sobs.

“Police!” Lady Preston threw herself at the one who had Jane by the hair. She pummeled him with her fists, not caring when the shopping bags ripped open and the contents spilled onto the cement. “Someone help! Help!”

The young man shoved her so hard she fell. “Get out of here, you mad woman! No one is going to help you! No one helps a China dog!” He kicked Jane in the ribs. “All we do with China dogs is kill them!”

“No vermin allowed in our cities!” another one yelled.

“Purify Germany!”

Lady Preston didn’t understand German, but when two other men in brown shirts and swastika armbands joined the first six and began kicking Jane, she hurled herself over Jane’s body so that the toes of the black boots cracked into her sides. “Help us! Help us!” she cried in English. “Someone help us!”

None of the bystanders made a move to help. Most just walked on, heads down. Some hung back, faces set like stone as they watched. When Eva realized no one in the crowd was going to act, she ran at the eight Nazi youth, shrieking curses in German, pounding them with her fists, and tearing at their faces with her fingernails. Blood streaked their cheeks and foreheads. Flying into a rage, they slapped her as hard as they could, threw her to the sidewalk next to Lady Preston and Jane, and kicked all three women as savagely as possible.

Lady Preston wrapped her arms tightly over Jane’s head as the blows rained down. “My baby, my poor baby! Oh Jesus, help us! Help us, Jesus!” She reached out a hand to Eva. “Come here, girl. Come here, my poor girl! God, help us! God, God, please help us!”

Suddenly police whistles blew and officers charged the eight Nazis. Fists smacked into heads and police clubs crunched against legs and arms. Bystanders finally jumped in and beat the Nazis with their walking sticks, umbrellas, and rolled-up newspapers. The brownshirts fled, holding their arms and putting hands to the cuts on their faces, shaking their fists and vowing revenge as they ran down the street and into an alley.

Lady Preston was weeping. “Jane, my dear. Oh, my poor child. There is so much blood. Say something to me—anything. Please open your mouth and talk. Eva, look at me. Are you going to be all right? Oh God, help us!” Lady Preston focused on the Germans standing around them. “Please help us! We need a doctor and a nurse. These are
my granddaughters, and I need help getting them to a hospital. Please have pity and help us.”

Albrecht and the baron stood stone-faced and stiff as they waited for the doctor to open the door and come out of the hospital room where Lady Preston, Jane, and Eva had been taken. Catherine and Libby were in the room with the patients, doctor, and nurses. The sound of a grandfather clock in the waiting room was loud. Montgomery sat on a couch against the wall. She was leaning forward, and dried streaks of tears crisscrossed her handsome face. Margaret sat next to her staring into space. Skitt stood beside the couch, his face a thundercloud. Sean sat several feet away in a chair. He stared straight ahead, barely taking in the framed picture of the Black Forest.

Finally Libby and Catherine came out of the examination room, followed by the doctor—a young man with coal-black hair and a small, coal-black moustache.

“Baron von Isenburg, the staff at the hospital cared for the women very well. I only needed to adjust a few of the bandages.” The doctor nodded at Skitt and Montgomery. “I would like to speak with the family privately in my office. Will you two sit with the women and keep an eye on things? All three are heavily sedated and shouldn’t wake till morning.”

Montgomery shot to her feet. “Of course, doctor.”

“If you spot any fresh bleeding, call a nurse right away.”

“We will,” promised Skitt.

The doctor led the others downstairs, Sean trailing the procession, his face the color of ashes. The doctor ushered everyone into his office. Once they were seated by the fireplace, the doctor paced and told them what the physicians at the hospital had already told them. All three had cracked ribs. In Lady Preston’s case, the injuries were more serious due to her age. Time and rest would heal their wounds. Jane had unfortunately lost some of her hair because it had been pulled out by the roots.

“As for the wounds inside…time and prayer and the love of family must help with that. I caution that you will have to be patient.
Recovery could take a long time. Please avoid any of these Nazi brutes in the future even if you must cross the street. Don’t go near any of their street rallies, not out of curiosity, not out of anger, not for any reason whatsoever. These brownshirts will not go away any time soon. If you must take young Jane out in public, consider having her wear a veil. You might consider getting her out of Germany. Another such attack would be extremely destructive to her spirit. Today the police and a handful of people helped out. Another day no one may help.” He stared at the baron and at Albrecht. “Such is Germany in 1930.”

Early the next morning, Catherine and Libby arrived to sit with the patients. They sent Skitt and Montgomery away to rest. The two sisters sat side by side facing the beds. The curtains were drawn, but a thin slit let a few rays of pale white light into the room. The beds were close together, and sometime during the night Lady Preston and Jane had linked hands. Both were sound asleep but their grip held.

Libby wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. Catherine squeezed her arm. “They will get better,” Catherine whispered. “In a few weeks they’ll be up and about and getting on with their lives. You’ll see.”

“It’s not that. I don’t understand the ways of the world, and I’m like Father in that I certainly don’t understand the ways of God. I never thought the Nazis would be the ones who brought Mother and Jane together.”

17

July–November, 1930

Hartmann Castle, the Rhine River, Germany
 

Dear Cornelia, my diary,

We are at Hartmann Castle on the Rhine. We left Germany for Switzerland as soon as Mum and the girls were on their feet. We stayed in Pura through May and June and then came here.

Mum is still with us, along with Skitt and Margaret, Jane’s maid Montgomery, Eva and the baron, my Sean and my Albrecht. Mum wants Jane and Eva to go to England to live. This is being debated right now, though no longer with Libby present. She’s at Dover Sky visiting with Terry under the watchful eyes of Holly and Harrison and Caroline and Kipp.

First things first. Mum and Jane and Eva are all right—but not really all right. Their bodies are healed for the most part and their spirits seem strong. But Mum will not return to Tubingen, and Jane is hesitant about going back as well. It’s impossible to keep the German news from them. We may be on the Rhine, but we are not on the moon. We are all aware that the economy remains in rough shape and that Herr Hitler and the Nazis are taking full advantage of the bleak situation. Just the other day two boats drifted past heading south, hours apart, each with large red-and-black swastika flags flying from
their sterns. Any thought that the Nazis are a passing phase is dashed. Clearly some Germans are looking to them to bring the country into a golden age of prosperity and success.

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