Letter from a Stranger (36 page)

It was Michael. “Are you all right?” he asked. “I suppose you’re still reading?”

“I am, yes. I just found out how my grandmother saved your grandmother’s life. She gave Anita her exit visa. I suppose you know that.”

“Yes, I do. But I don’t know much else about what happened to Gabri after that, after Anita and Markus left Berlin. However I can tell you this. I’ve always thought it was the most extraordinary act of unselfishness and courage I’ve ever heard of in my life.”

Forty

After filling the kettle and putting it on the stove, Justine sat down on the kitchen stool. As she waited for it to boil she found herself thinking about her grandmother again. How could she not?

Once more her mind was back with Gabriele in Berlin in 1938. What must it have been like to live in those dangerous times, when the most evil regime in the history of the world had been alive and kicking? Terror and fear had been her grandmother’s constant companions, of that she was certain, and she had been so very young.
Fourteen.
Justine thought of herself at fourteen, the way she had been at that age, and her mind balked.

A shiver ran through her and she sat very still. Gabriele had given Anita the chance to escape, to save her life, while she herself had stayed behind. Not knowing what the future held. Most likely certain death. But she had not faltered, had done it out of love for her friend. It was the most unselfish act Justine had ever heard of in her entire life.

The whistling kettle brought her to her feet. She turned it off, made a mug of English breakfast tea, added lemon and sweetener, and returned to her bedroom.

She was using a bookmark now, and easily found the last page she had been reading earlier.

you in danger. Perhaps you must think of this decision for a while. Do not be hasty, Princess Irina finished. I said I
had
thought about it, and excused myself. I went to Anita’s bedroom, and told her about my exit visa coming through. I didn’t mention C. I knew I must be discreet, very careful not to put him in danger.

Oh, I’m so happy for you! Anita said. Your aunt will be waiting for you with loving arms. She’s nice, your aunt Beryl. I like her.

I sat down on the bed next to Anita, and took hold of her hand. I’m not going to use the exit visa. I am going to give it to you, Anita. So you can go with Markus to Turkey. To be with your mother.

Anita was flabbergasted. She turned, gaped at me. Didn’t speak for a moment. Finally she said, No, no. I can’t do that, Gabri! It’s your visa. It would be wrong of me to take it. You must, I insisted. Anita shook her head. Furiously. Her face became set in that way she had.
No.
I won’t take it, she said again. I asked her to give me her passport. So that the exit visa could be attached. She would not. And she dug her heels in, as my mother would have called it. She was adamant.

I began to talk to her. Trying to be persuasive. I couldn’t make a dent. Eventually I said in a low voice, Listen to me, Anita. I don’t know where my parents and Erika are. Buchenwald. My voice broke then and I choked on the words. I took a deep breath. I said unsteadily, but I know that I will not see them until the war ends.

Anita had stiffened. She stared at me. Her face was white, strained, her sparkly brown eyes filled with fear. I realized she was aghast. How do you know? Who told you that?

Prince Kurt, I answered. He has access to a lot of important people in the Third Reich. He says they will be released. I believe him. He is a good man. When the war ends I want to be
here,
Anita. To find my parents. Not far away in London. I might not be able to get back for ages. I must stay here in Germany.
I am going to stay.
Even if you don’t use my visa. So why should we waste it? Please use it, Anita. It’s foolish not to. After further discussion and tears on both our parts, Anita agreed. Finally. She gave me her passport, so that I could hand it on to Irina, who would take it to Berlin to have the exit visa attached.

I went back to the princess’s bedroom, told her everything. She nodded, put Anita’s passport in her bag. Then she glanced at me. There was an odd look in her violet-blue eyes as she said softly, What a wonderful friend you are, my brave little girl. You have the kind of courage I’ve rarely seen in a grown man.

BERLIN

DECEMBER 20, 1938

We stood together on the platform of the Schlesischer Bahnhof. People milled around. It was very busy. There were a lot of Gestapo about, and troops of the Wehrmacht, and people were already boarding the Berlin–Paris train which had just pulled in.

Princess Irina had not wanted me to come to see Anita and Markus off. She was afraid for me. But I had insisted. Anita held on to my hand tightly. Her eyes were full of tears. Markus stood just behind me. His hand was on my shoulder. Once again, he whispered in my ear, Thank you, Gabri, thank you with all my heart.

Princess Irina had come with me, was concerned about my safety. Suddenly she turned around, smiled as Arabella and Kurt von Wittingen came to a standstill. They greeted us cordially. The smile on my face suddenly slipped. I froze. A man was striding toward us. An officer wearing the field-gray uniform of the Wehrmacht. To my horror he stopped alongside the prince.

Kurt von Wittingen turned, nodded when he saw him. They shook hands. The officer then came and greeted each of us as if he knew us, shaking our hands in a friendly manner. He even kissed Princess Irina on the cheek. She noticed my terrified expression, winked. I then understood this was not an enemy but a friend. The officer said something to Prince Kurt, who stepped over to Markus.

Show me your papers again, my boy, the prince said, sounding as if he were speaking to a relative. Markus took them out of his overcoat pocket, handed them over. The officer also looked at the documents. He said to Markus, Where are your tickets? Markus gave them to him, and said, Return tickets to Paris from Berlin. Coming back to Berlin on January tenth.

The officer inclined his head, handed the tickets back. He lowered his voice when he said, At the border town of Aachen your papers will be checked, your luggage searched. It’s normal. There are a lot of Gestapo, SS, and troops on this train, that is routine also. Now let me get you both settled in the compartment. The train will be leaving shortly.

I hugged Anita, then Markus. So did the two princesses. Prince Kurt shook their hands, wished them well. They followed the officer onto the train. Anita turned on the top step and blew me a kiss. I blew one back. Then she disappeared from view. I wondered if I would ever see her again.

A moment later she was tapping the compartment window. I waved. Irina and Arabella did the same. The guard was coming down the platform, waving a red flag. The train was hooting, emitting steam. Three SS officers pushed past us, boarded the train. They were followed by more troops, and several women, two with small children.

The officer in the field-gray uniform who had helped Anita and Markus to the compartment reappeared, came to join us. We all watched the train as it slid out of the station and went rattling on its way to Paris. Then we left the station, went our separate ways.

Irina took me back with her to her stepfather’s house on the Lützowufer. We would spend today and tonight there before returning to the Schloss tomorrow. We were to stay in the country until the New Year.

When we got back to the house, Hedy made us hot chocolate and served it with warm doughnuts. We were both hungry. As we settled in front of the fire, Irina said, The officer who came to help them onto the train is with the Abwehr. We thought it would give Anita and Markus a certain legitimacy if they were being looked after by a colonel in German Military Intelligence. I believed it went well, she added. Is he working with C? I asked. She nodded.

The princess was silent for a moment, before confiding, When we were leaving the station, he told me he was given a lot of salutes from troops when he was ushering them into the compartment. It’s all about validity. And who you know.

Yes, I agreed. After a moment the princess said, Anita told me they are staying in Paris, then will go on to Nice. Yes, I answered. They arrive tomorrow morning at the Gare du Nord. They will spend the night at the station hotel. Not any longer. They want to keep moving. In Nice they will take the freighter to Istanbul, passing through the Dardanelle Straits. Just as she told you.

The princess looked thoughtful. Anita explained that her mother arranged for them to travel on the freighter. I hope everything works out all right, that nothing goes wrong.

So do I, I murmured.

Forty-one

“It’s me, Rich,” Justine said. “Is this a bad time? I need to talk to you.”

Her brother sounded surprised to hear her voice, and exclaimed, “It’s fine for me, but what about you? It’s late in Istanbul.”

“I’m wide awake,” she answered. “How was Washington?”

“Great. I just got back to New York awhile ago on the shuttle. I was going to call you, Juju, but I thought you’d be asleep.”

“I wanted to know how Daisy was.”

“She’s doing fine.”

“I’m glad Joanne’s around. She’s very motherly.”

“What about Gran? Isn’t she waiting for me? Anxiously?”

“She is, and she doesn’t know about Daisy’s ear infection yet since she’s still in Bodrum. I shall tell her when she gets back with Anita.” Justine paused, then said, “I’ve had an idea. I was thinking it might be great if I brought Gran to New York to see you and Daisy. She’d also love to see Indian Ridge. She still owns it lock, stock, and barrel, to put it bluntly.”

“That would be great to bring Gran. Oh God, I hope she doesn’t hate the changes I’ve made at Indian Ridge.”

“How could she? Everything’s beautiful. Anyway, she’s looked through the photograph album I brought with me. And she was very admiring of your talent, I told you that.”

“I know you did, but a photograph’s a bit different from the real thing.”

Now that she had the call to New York out of the way, Justine reached for the leather-bound book and started to read again.

THE MARK BRANDENBURG

MAY 4, 1939

It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining and the spring flowers were already in bloom in the garden. There were lilacs coming out and apple blossom in bud. I wanted to go outside. Take a walk. But I had to finish my studies first. I liked the library where I studied every day. It was full of books and beautiful old paintings. The von Wittingen children worked alongside me, were good companions. But this afternoon Diana and Christian had gone to Berlin with their mother. To have their medical checkups. I missed them when they were away. Christian and Diana were warm, loving, and full of high jinks. They kept me laughing even when I was sad. They brought a lot of life to this old castle, helped to create a cheerful ambience.

The two princesses had undertaken my schooling. At the beginning of this year.
My guardian angels.
That was how I thought of them. They loved my mother. So felt responsible for me. They were similar in character. Practical, down-to-earth women who constantly said, “Let’s get on with it.” And did so. Both were aristocrats yet there was not one snobbish bone in their bodies.

Their lives had been very different, though. Arabella, daughter of an English earl, with her own title, had had a loving and stable upbringing in a happy family in Yorkshire. There she had lived in a world that was safe, secure, and genteel. She had been protected.

Irina, born a Romanov princess, had lost everything at the age of six when her father was murdered, her uncle Tsar Nicholas II assassinated. She and her mother had gone on the run. Living hand to mouth. Relying on the kindness of others in different European countries. And especially in Poland, where they had made many close friends. Irina often spoke to me about these chums of hers and the days she and her mother had lived in Warsaw. Explained how much they owed their survival to them. Somehow she and her mother had managed to stay alive. Irina was strong, dependable, smart, inventive. Perhaps because of her vagabond life as a refugee. She told me once she was a survivor.

They were like loving aunts. But I never forgot Mummy, with her sky blue eyes, golden hair, quick mind, and loving nature. I thought of her every morning, and of Papa and Erika. And every night when I went to bed. My family were never out of my thoughts. I yearned for them. I believed I would see them again. Once the Third Reich ceased to exist. Irina, Arabella, and Kurt said it would collapse one day. In the not too distant future. This belief kept me going. Gave me hope.

After Anita and Markus had left Berlin in December I returned to the Schloss with Irina. We have remained here. I missed Anita but I was relieved she had escaped. Markus had phoned when they reached their destination. Were with their mother in Istanbul. After speaking with them I breathed a lot easier.

It was several days after this call that Princess Irina told me the building where they had lived was again visited by the Gestapo only two days after Anita and Markus had fled Berlin. Many Jewish families living there had been harassed. This information had come to her from the nice colonel who had been at the station to see them safely off. She told me his name was Colonel Hans Oster, that he worked with C in the Abwehr, German Military Intelligence. Irina’s face was grave when she added, Anita and Markus got out in the nick of time, Gabri. God bless C.

I was constantly worried about Irina. I knew she was deeply involved with one of the resistance movements. She went to Berlin a lot. Stayed for days on end. I was full of dread until she came back.